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agentstarkid · 1 day

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YOU'RE JUST LIKE MARS, YOU SHINE IN THE SKY ✦ CL16

✦ pairing: charles leclerc x reader ✦ words: 2.4K ✦ warnings: female!reader, fluff. ✦ may's radio: my hands were shaking so much that they slipped and this got written :)) <3

The roar of engines reverberated through the narrow streets of Monaco, the glistening harbor contrasting with the vibrant red of the Ferrari garage. I stood amidst the controlled chaos, the scent of burning rubber and fuel heavy in the air. Charles' family was beside me, their faces a mixture of tension and pride, reflecting my own swirling emotions.

In my hand, I clutched a small bracelet, its delicate threads intertwined with colors representing our journey together. Charles and I had made it during a quiet evening in Maranello, each bead and knot a silent promise of our shared dreams and love. I rubbed the beads with my thumb, seeking solace in their familiarity as the final laps of the Monaco Grand Prix unfolded on the screens before us.

Charles was in the lead. I could see his car darting through the tight corners, threading the needle between the unforgiving barriers. The commentators' voices were a distant hum, my focus solely on the scarlet blur of his Ferrari.

“He's doing great,” Pascale whispered, her voice tight with barely contained excitement.

I nodded, unable to tear my eyes away from the monitor. My heart pounded in time with the relentless rhythm of the cars on the track. Each second stretched into an eternity, every corner a potential triumph or disaster.

With just a few laps to go, the tension in the garage was palpable. I could see the mechanics poised for celebration or action, their faces masks of concentration. The bracelet's colors shimmered softly, a small but powerful reminder of the man I loved and the journey that had brought us to this moment.

The final lap began. Charles' car streaked past the iconic Casino Square, down towards the tight hairpin at Fairmont, and into the tunnel where the roar of the engine amplified tenfold. My grip on the bracelet tightened and all around, the horns of the yachts in the harbor were already blaring in celebration.

"C’mon, mia stella," I whispered, as if my voice could reach him through the cacophony of the race.

Through the chicane and into the swimming pool complex, his car danced on the edge of control, the very limits of physics and skill. The crowd's roar was a constant backdrop, a wave of noise that crescendoed as he approached the final corners.

Then, in a blur of red and precision, he rounded Rascasse and Anthony Noghes. The checkered flag waved, and Charles' car crossed the finish line.

“C'é l'ha fatta!” someone shouted, the garage erupting into cheers and applause. He did it.

Tears of joy sprang to my eyes as I watched Charles slow down for the victory lap, the realization sinking in. He had won. In Monaco. His home race.

Monaco has finally loved him back.

It was a colossal victory for Il sole di Maranello, Il Predestinato, Il Principe Rosso,

The brightest star in my night sky.

The screen cut to his in-car camera, showing his triumphant fist pump and the liberating scream he let out. My heart swelled with pride and love.

As the celebrations commenced around me, I felt a strong arm wrap around my shoulders. Charles' mother pulled me into a hug, her eyes glistening with tears.

“He's done it,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

We all moved towards the pit lane to greet him, the crowd's energy sweeping us along. The bracelet dangled from my wrist, a symbol of our bond and the incredible moment we were now living.

Charles pulled into the Parc Fermé, and as he climbed out of the car, he immediately jumped onto the nose of his Ferrari. He threw his arms up in victory, letting out a boisterous scream full of raw emotion, the sound echoing through the throng of fans and team members. The crowd's cheers reached a fever pitch, their collective joy merging with his triumphant cry.

He then jumped down, his feet hitting the ground with a determined thud. Amidst the jubilant chaos, his eyes scanned the sea of faces until they found mine surrounded by a sea of red uniforms and jubilant faces. He pushed through the crowd, making his way to me.

“Amore mio!” he exclaimed, lifting me off my feet and spinning me around.

“You did it, Charles! You won!” I laughed through my tears, my hands framing his helmet.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against mine. “We did it,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His fingers brushed against the bracelet on my wrist, I could see a hint of a knowing smile spreading across his face. “This is also for us.”

In that moment, surrounded by the cheers of the team and the adoring fans, it was just the two of us. The handmade bracelet, the race, and our love intertwined into a perfect, unforgettable moment.

The jubilation in the Ferrari crowd was palpable, the energy electric as the team celebrated Charles' monumental win. Mechanics, engineers, and staff swarmed him, lifting him up and congratulating him, hugging him and tapping the top of his helmet, their faces glowing with pride and admiration. Fred approached with a broad smile, clapping Charles on the shoulder and embracing him in a vigorous hug.

Next came Carlos, grinning from ear to ear, pulling into a brotherly embrace. "Amazing job out there, mate! You deserve this one."

"Thanks, Carlos," Charles said, hugging him tighter. "We did it together."

John Elkann, Ferrari’s chairman, stepped forward, his demeanor exuberant and congratulatory. "Charles, you've made Ferrari and all of Monaco incredibly proud today. Congratulations!"

Charles nodded, his gratitude evident. "Thank you, Mr. Elkann. This victory is for the team, for all of us."

With the formalities complete, Charles turned to the crowd. He moved towards the barriers, where the sea of red-clad fans erupted into deafening cheers, their love and admiration washing over him like a wave. He basked in the adulation, lifting his arms to acknowledge the fans who had supported him through thick and thin.

He spotted Andrea waiting by the edge of the crowd. The Italian had been with him through countless highs and lows, a steady presence in his life. Charles embraced him tightly, their bond evident in the heartfelt hug.

“You did it, Charles. I'm so proud of you,” Andrea said, his voice choked with emotion.

“Couldn't have done it without you, Andrea,” Charles replied, pulling back to look his friend in the eye.

Andrea handed Charles his jewelry and the other handmade bracelet, the one that perfectly complemented the one I wore. A significant piece that he entrusts to his friend every race. Charles took the items, his eyes briefly meeting Andrea's in silent gratitude before he turned back to the crowd. He moved to the front of the sign indicating his 1st place finish, ready to be interviewed by Jenson Button for the post-race interview.

The crowd's roar never dimmed, their adoration a constant backdrop. I watched him, my heart swelling with love and pride, as he fought back tears. Charles took a moment to gather himself, fidgeting with his cap and then with the bracelet. The raw emotion in his voice was palpable as he spoke.

“It means a lot obviously,” Charles said, his voice wavering slightly. “This is the race that made me dream of being a Formula One driver one day.”

He paused, taking a deep breath. “I have to say that I was thinking of my dad a lot more than what I do while driving. Obviously he’d given everything for me to be here. It was our dream for me to race and to win here.”

The weight of his words sinking in. The raw emotion in his voice, the tears brimming in his eyes, spoke volumes. This victory was not just a personal triumph but a tribute to his father and their shared dream. I felt tears spill over, my heart swelling with love for the man who had just achieved a lifelong dream, carrying the memory of his father with him every step of the way.

While Charles spoke, I stood beside Pascale and his brothers. My heart ached with a mix of overwhelming pride and sorrow, mirroring the emotions etched on their faces. Pascale had tears running down her cheeks, her expression a blend of grief and pride for her son's achievement.

I reached out and grabbed her hand in mine, squeezing it three times—a silent gesture of support, love, and shared emotion. She squeezed back, her grip firm and reassuring, a small but powerful connection in this deeply poignant moment.

As the interview concluded, the crowd erupted into applause once more. Charles looked over at us, his eyes locking with mine, and in that moment, everything else faded away. The noise, the cameras, the crowd—it all disappeared, leaving just the two of us connected by an unspoken understanding and an unbreakable bond.

He made his way toward us, each step filled with purpose and emotion. When he reached us, he first hugged his mother tightly, their shared tears a silent tribute to the man they both missed so deeply. Then he turned to me, pulling me into his arms, holding me close.

I held him tighter, feeling the weight of the moment. “I'm so proud of you, Charles. Your dad would be too.”

We stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other's embrace, the world around us celebrating his incredible victory. The cheers of the crowd, the flashes of cameras, and the palpable joy of the team enveloped us, but all that mattered was the love and pride we felt for Charles.

Pascale joined our embrace, her tears now mingling with smiles. “He's always with you, Charles. And he's so proud.”

Charles nodded, his eyes glistening. “I feel him here today, maman, more than ever.”

As the celebrations continued, Charles' brothers took turns hugging him, their faces glowing with admiration and joy. He was then quickly rushed into the Driver’s Cooldown Room along with the other podium-finishers.

The crowd's roar never dimmed, their adoration a constant backdrop to the unfolding celebrations. Charles made his way to the podium promptly being showered in overjoyed hugs and words by Monaco’s Royal Family. He took his place on the top, the Monegasque flag wrapped around him like a protective mantle.

The Prince of Monaco, his eyes glistening with emotion, handed Charles his trophy first. Their embrace was heartfelt, filled with warmth and a deep sense of pride. As Charles lifted the trophy high, the crowd erupted into deafening cheers. He turned to the other drivers, congratulating them as they received their trophies, and then Fred accepted the constructor's trophy with a broad smile, lifting it skyward to the adulation of the crowd.

The Monaco anthem began to play, its solemn notes filling the air. Charles stood tall as the anthem resonated deeply, the pride of the nation evident in every note. As the final strains of the Monaco anthem faded, the Italian anthem followed, a tribute to the Ferrari team and their storied legacy.

The sound of both anthems being sung at the top of everyone's lungs was deafening, a beautiful cacophony of national pride and celebration. Tears streamed down faces all around, from the Prince and the royal family to the mechanics, marshalls, and fans. Even the seasoned veterans of the sport were visibly moved, the emotion of the moment overwhelming.

He lifted the trophy high, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. The crowd erupted once more, their cheers echoing through the narrow streets of Monte Carlo. He looked down at me, our eyes locking across the sea of faces. He mouthed the words “I love you,” and I felt the tears spill over again, tears of unadulterated joy and love.

The podium celebration reached its peak and the champagne bottles were uncorked with a resounding pop. Charles, Carlos, and Oscar grabbed their bottles, shaking them vigorously. The crowd's anticipation grew, knowing the champagne shower was about to begin.

Charles stood at the center as Carlos and Oscar turned towards him, their bottles aimed and ready. With a synchronized motion, they sprayed him with champagne, the sparkling liquid raining down on him as he laughed and tried to dodge it.

Fred, ever the spirited team principal, turned his champagne bottle toward Prince Albert. His Serene Highness, caught off guard but clearly delighted, laughed heartily and grabbed a bottle himself. He joined in the festivities, spraying Fred and the other drivers with gusto. The entire podium was a scene of jubilant chaos, the air filled with the scent of champagne and the sound of laughter and cheers.

Charles reveled in the moment, his face beaming with pure happiness as he shared the celebration with his teammates and the Prince. It was a rare and beautiful sight, the convergence of competitive spirit and heartfelt camaraderie.

Finally, the champagne showers subsided, and Charles descended the steps, droplets of champagne glistening on his suit and face. After a while, he made his way back to me, his steps purposeful and his eyes locked on mine. The crowd's cheers still echoed in the background, but all I could focus on was him.

As he reached me, he didn't hesitate. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me deeply, a kiss full of love, joy, and adoration—and even a hint of something more passionate, something more intense.

The kiss was electric, sending shivers down my spine. His lips moved against mine with a fervor that spoke of the countless emotions coursing through him. His hands gripped my waist tightly, pulling me closer as if he never wanted to let go. The world around us blurred, the noise of the celebration fading into the background.

His kiss was hungry and unrestrained, a raw display of the depth of his feelings. It conveyed everything words couldn't—the relief, the triumph, the passion that simmered beneath the surface. My toes curled, and I felt a heady rush as I responded with equal intensity, matching his fervor.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless and smiling, he rested his forehead against mine. “This is just the beginning,” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin.

I nodded, holding him tight. “I'm with you every step of the way, Charles. Always.”

And in that embrace, surrounded by the love of family, friends, and fans, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, hand in hand, heart to heart. The journey ahead was filled with promise, and with each other, we could conquer anything.

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aestheticaltcow · 2 months

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The Aftermath

Part 3 of Six Months universe

Part 1: Six Months Part 2: The Night When It Went Wrong

MDNI 18+

You groaned as you stretched, trying to crack your back. You’d been cleaning all afternoon, Carmy was still MIA, and this was the one thing you knew would distract you enough not to storm into The Bear demanding to know where your husband had been last night. You hopped up on the counter and grabbed your phone from the charger. A knot formed in the back of your throat when you saw a text from Carmy displayed on your lock screen.

Sorry about last night, baby.

On my way home.

“Okay. Fuck you, Carmy. At least you’re alive.” you mumbled to yourself before hopping down from the counter and going down the hallway to your bedroom. You knew the two of you would have a screaming match when he got home; you rolled your eyes at the thought. He was usually predictable; this running away from home debacle threw you for a loop. Since the fighting was inevitable, you opted to take care of yourself a little bit at least, and an everything-shower seemed like the move.

Pregnancy was hard; you were in a constant state of nausea, you were exhausted, you had almost daily migraines toward the end, and, oh boy… hormones were interesting. You gained a decent amount of weight, but loved how you looked. Carrying Mia made every body insecurity you had vanish. You felt powerful as she grew in your womb, and the feelings were only amplified by the way Carmy would caress your stomach at night when he’d get home from work. He’d pepper kisses across your stomach and talk to Mia as he helped you rub shea butter in an attempt to prevent stretch marks. You laughed about it now as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror. Cellulite, stretch marks, loose skin, and a c-section scar decorated your body. All those insecurities you’d thought vanished returned as soon as you showered for the first time post-partum. You didn’t want anyone to see you, especially Carmy.

You’d always been so secure in your relationship with Carmy. Something ignited within you when you saw him sitting at the bar by himself the night the two of you met. He was sexy and aloof. You had turned to your friend and told her, ‘I’m gonna marry that guy,’ and cocked your head in Carmy’s direction. She gave you a nod of approval, and you were off. He was shy and confused about why the prettiest girl in the bar would want to talk to some loner drinking a ginger ale instead of one of the guys coming up to her throughout the night. After months of casual hookups or late-night lounging around his apartment, Carmy found the courage to take you out on an actual date. After that, you declared he was your boyfriend. He admitted to being in love with you and was overjoyed when you returned the sentiment. Carmy was your knight in shining armor. You knew he was in your corner if you ever had a problem or needed to talk about something. It was you and him against the world, and it only amplified when he proposed to you. The two of you had a small wedding on the beach and decided to travel for a few months. When the two of you started dating, Carmy recounted tales from his time in culinary school- you were shocked that the man had lived in Frances for years but hadn’t explored the city beyond his campus or the restaurants he worked at. Exploring Europe together felt like a dream; it was everything you’d wanted to do with him. The two of you hadn’t planned on having kids, but after a couple of years of living as a married couple and buying your home, it felt like a natural progression to just ‘see what would happen’ if you got off of your birth control.

Now you stood in the shower while your mother took care of your baby and your bitch of a husband hid at work. You sighed and exited the shower, wrapping your hair in a towel and tying your bathrobe at the waist. You checked your phone to see no new messages from Carmy and that Natalie had left you on read.

As you blow-dried your hair, you couldn’t shake the thoughts of Carmy doing something dumb last night. You knew he’d never cheat on you, but the curiosity about where he’d gone was killing you. You took your time blowing out your hair and doing your skincare routine. As you brushed your teeth, you heard the front door open. “Hey… I’m home.” Carmy’s voice called through the house. Your stomach twisted at the sound. You took a deep breath and quickly put on deodorant before walking out of the bathroom in a pair of fresh pajamas. After contemplating jumping out the window to avoid this conversation from happening, you cautiously exited the bedroom. You went down the hallway to see Carmy washing his hands in the kitchen.

“Hey.” you grinned, rubbing your arm nervously. Carmy inhaled sharply before closing the distance between the two of you. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, feeling the stress of the day melt away as he took in the scent of your conditioner. “I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have left like that,” he spoke into your hair. You sighed and hesitantly hugged him; he rubbed circles into your back and wished to go back in time and change what had happened.

“Where were you? You’ve never done something like that before- I thought you were dead or something Carmy.” Carmy tucked your head under his chin and contemplated what he should say. He knew he’d have to come clean eventually but wanted to relish in this moment.

“I just drove around and went to work early.” he lied, hoping you’d not push it further. Natalie had ripped him a new one when he’d confessed the details of his indiscretion. She ranted about how she’d feel if Pete had treated her like that; she’d kick his ass to the curb. “You realize she’s gonna leave your ass, right? You absolutely can not sleep at my house- Carmen Anthony Berzatto, you’re no better than Dad.” before he could respond, Natalie threatened to kick his ass if he didn’t come clean to you about what happened. Carmy wanted to tell you, but being compared to his father was something he hadn’t expected Natalie to say. He didn’t know the guy that well, but he knew a little about the cheating. He didn’t have a second family or kids outside his marriage with Donna, but he saw the hurt it put her through and vowed never to be like the man. Now he stood in his kitchen holding his wife- the love of his fucking life, lying about his whereabouts from the night before. Yeah, he didn’t get past third base, but would he have gone all the way if he had gotten hard? Would you constitute this as cheating? Would you leave him and keep Mia from him? He pushed the thoughts back and pressed his nose into your hair. He took in the scent of your conditioner, just in case this was the last time.

You pulled away from the hug and nodded, “Okay. I trust you, but never do something like that again. You scared the crap out of me.”

Carmy and you sat at the dining room table that night and talked about your insecurities postpartum and that while you were medically cleared to have sex, you were nervous about the actual act. He nodded, and you felt vindicated. You kissed his cheek and headed into the kitchen to order dinner. Carmy grinned and fished his phone out of his pocket. He deleted his text chain with Selena and quickly blocked her number before you came back to ask if he had any preferences for dinner. Carmy shook his head, “Whatever you want, baby.”

The two of you ate dinner in the living room and watched the newest cheesy romcom on Netflix. Carmy sat back and took in the moment. It was like when the two of you had started dating. You’d always had some kind of freelance video editing job or some other creative endeavor that gave you a good amount of flexibility in your schedule. No matter how late he’d get off, you were always down to come over, watch a movie, eat takeout, or whatever new recipe he was trying to perfect. You explained that quality time was your main language, so as long as you were together, you were happy doing whatever with him.

As the movie continued, you’d put your head on Carmy’s chest and held onto his waist. He had an arm around your shoulder- he stunk of his usual kitchen smells and smoke, but there was another scent you couldn’t quite place. “I should probably shower if you wanna cuddle, baby.” he laughed as you pushed a hand under the hem of his T-shirt. Carmy had long forgotten about the hickey that decorated his collarbone. You hummed in disagreement, “Your BO is comforting Carm…”

Carmy laughed and kissed the top of your head. Carmy tapped your shoulder as the movie ended, signaling he wanted to get off the couch: “I need a shower, baby.” He shifted in his seat, and you looked up at him. “Kiss me?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes. Carmy swallowed and hurriedly nodded as he gently placed his lips on yours. You smiled into the kiss as the taste of tobacco and spearmint flooded your tastebuds. You removed your hand from under Carmy’s shirt and put it on his cheek. Carmy wasn’t sure where to put his hands. This felt like a 180 from the previous day, confusing and excited him.

You threw a leg over Carmy’s hips to straddle him as the kiss turned more passionate. Carmy’s hands found your hips; his touch felt like electricity shooting through your body in the best way. You pulled away from the kiss, gently pulling Carmy’s bottom lip between your teeth, eliciting a deep throaty moan from him. You ran your hands down Carmy’s chest. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of your nails tickling his skin through the material of his shirt. “Still need me, baby?” you asked, leaning in to kiss Carmy’s jaw. “Still need to be inside of me?” you said as you trailed kisses up his jaw toward his earlobe. You felt his cock harden beneath you as you rolled your hips against him. Carmy’s grip on your hips tightened at the sensation, “Please, baby.” he whined. You giggled at his response and slowly swirled your tongue around Carmy’s earlobe before leaning back on his thighs. Carmy leaned back into the couch. His eyes were dark with lust as you reached for the hem of your shirt, quickly discarding it.

Carmy’s eyes widened at the sight of your bare breasts, “Fuckin’ hell, baby.” he muttered. You bit your lip as Carmy stared at you, “Can-can I-” Carmy began to stutter before you cut him off by bringing one of his hands to your chest. “Fuck.” Carmy laughed as he snaked an arm around your waist to bring you closer. You giggled as Carmy massaged your breast in his large, calloused hand, “Baby- fuck, you’re so sexy.”

You moaned softly as Carmy gently pushed you back onto the couch before trailing delicate kisses down your stomach to the top of your pajama shorts. As eager as he was to remove them, he still felt like he was dreaming. Your eyes met and you nodded, Carmy bit his lip holding back a groan. He swiftly yanked the soft cotton material down your legs to reveal your lack of panties. He smirked as he spread your legs wider and stared down at your core like a starved animal.

“Carmy?” you asked softly, “Do you want me to stop?” he responded, hoping you would say ‘no.’ You shook your head, “Be gentle?” you whispered. Carmy nodded, “Of course, baby. Say, stop, and I will…”

Carmy put your legs over his shoulders and nuzzled his face between your thighs, placing delicate kisses against your folds. Your legs shook as he ran his tongue up to your clit, “Mmm,” you hummed as he took your clit between his lips. “Oooh,” you moaned as Carmy slowly pushed his index finger into your entrance. Your reaction only fueled Carmy’s desire to please you. As your juices flooded his tastebuds, you bucked your hips up against his mouth, making him moan against your clit.

“I need you,” you whined, pulling at Carmy’s hair. Reluctantly, he pulled his mouth away from your heat. “What do you need me to do, baby?” Carmy teased. You giggled as he moved to hover above your body. You pulled at the hem of his T-shirt, wanting to feel his skin against yours.

Carmy’s body tensed. You noticed the color drain from his face, the weight of his actions from the night prior finally hitting him. “Are you okay, Carmen?” you asked as you stopped pulling at his shirt. He nodded, “Yeah-h.”

You didn’t believe him. “You’re being weird. I don’t care that you’re gross from work. I want you.” You looked into his eyes and could sense he was hiding something from you. “I’m not being weird,” he said defensively. You shook your head, pushed up at his chest, and sat up against the arm of the couch. “You literally left last night because I didn’t want to have sex- now I want you and you’re being fuckin’ weird. Take your clothees off and fuck me.” you demanded, Carmy swallowed and sat up on the couch. He shouldn’t have let it go this far, you rolled your eyes and yanked his shirt off.

“What the fuck is that!” you screamed when you saw the dark purple hickey decorating his collar bone, Carmy stared at you nervously. “YOU FUCKIN’ LIAR!” you screamed louder pushing yourself off the couch picking up your T-shirt from the floor.

“Baby, I swear—I didn’t—" Carmy explained as he scrambled to his feet as you walked down the hallway toward your bedroom. Your blood boiled at the thought of Carmy fucking another woman last night while he was ‘getting air,’ “YOU’RE A FUCKING LIAR GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS HOUSE, I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD CARMEN!” you screamed at the top of your lungs as you glared at him as tears started to fall from your eyes. Carmy’s face regained color and softened in reaction to your screams.

“Y/N, it was a mistake! We didn't have sex because I couldn’t get hard-” Carmy attempted to explain the situation, and you shook your head in response. “That’s fuckin’ bullshit! Get out!” you screamed through your tears.

Carmy dropped to his knees and reached out for your hand. You slapped it away and ignored his begs to hear him out and let him explain what had happened. “No. No. I don’t want to- that’s why you wanted to fuckin’ shower so bad, right?! Didn’t want to fuck your wife with your dirty fuckin’ cock you fucking liar!” you screamed as you attempted to pull your wedding ring off of your finger. When it wouldn’t budge, you screamed in frustration and slammed the bedroom door.

Carmy fell back and brought his knees to his chest, the weight of his actions truly hitting him when you had tried to take off your wedding ring. He really had ruined his marriage. Carmy heard your sobs through the door as he got up, “Y/N- it was a mistake. I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much-”

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE CARMEN! I FUCKING HATE YOU!”

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bamsara · 3 months

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Hey! If you don’t mind answering a question, how exactly did Narinder help The Lamb with the harvest ritual (to the point that it did more then expected!) I thought that they had to be physically in contact for the power to be shared, but maybe I just missed something? Anyway, take care! Love the comic, and have a good day :]

It works the same ways how Narinder had to actively think good thoughts about the Lamb to be able to teleport in chapter 3, and how both of their powers are getting stronger through out the story. Example: Narinder used to have to touch the Lamb to be able to teleport, now he can do it on his own, and especially easier if they're just in the vicinity. This doesn't mean that touching doesn't increase the amount of power they output, but it's definitely more controllable and willing when they work together.

I think the best way I can describe it is:

Not touching and not getting along/working together = Fizzled out magic. The crown doesn't answer to the Lamb and Narinder's powers seem to fail him. There's a disconnection. See start of story.

Not touching but working together/getting along, or touching with the intent of making something work = Normal but can not be. Power can be focused and calculated accordingly. Both powers that be can contribute and essentially 'complete' whats needed. Varies greatly in application, often depending on their mood/willingness to help.

Exp: Narinder would instantly rot organic items in the start of the story, but he later manages not to do so when handling The Fox's offering in chap 6 until the Lamb says something that ruins his mood. He's still working on the control.

Think of your average trial and error of coming into their new predicament and learning to adjust.

Touching = Prone to accidents. Depending on if they're getting along or their fighting, this is either a really good thing and can be used normally, or a nuke waiting to deploy. Can be uncontrollable. It's why the flower suddenly grew for a second before wilting in chapter 14, and how they accidentally resurrected Jayen in chapter 2.

Something something they are always connected, regardless of touching (evident in how the dreams can bluetooth each other under special circumstance) but the severity of power falls to where in the timeline. The healing factor also benefits from this. Small things, but there's more planned as they progress. Think: Narinder inadvertently helping Lamb relax in a nightmare when he just touches their arm wondering if they're awake in chap 14.

Something something it's an amplifier as much as it was a key factor, just like their feelings can affect it. As powers progress in the story, they'll figure out some things on their own.

(And Narinder really, really wanted the harvest ritual to work out for the Lamb)

#none of this makes sense sorry sidgnlskdglksdg #trod au #writings

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ddarker-dreams · 5 months

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Epilogue.

Yandere Blade x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, codependency, Blade's love language is committing murder for you. Word count: 1.5k.

Nexus index.

“You went overboard.”

Blade doesn’t respond.

You know he heard you. He’s lucid enough to comprehend your words, but that doesn’t mean he’ll acknowledge them. Not when he’s standing there, parsing through his frenetic thoughts, which must feel more like a distant dream than reality. This is how you’ve come to understand his mara. It’s a capricious affliction, despite how adept you’ve become at soothing it.

This burden isn’t yours alone to bear. Blade has his part to play. He has to at least, on some level, want to ward off the beckoning madness. Your psionic abilities lay in amplifying base desires, not writing over them. Usually, this isn’t a problem. Usually, you both prefer he retains control instead of leaving a trail of contorted corpses in his wake.

Today, however, was decidedly unusual.

The nature of your new ‘work’ invites risk. Danger has never been a stranger to you — there was a reason why leaving the LOTUS-EATER’s premises was discouraged. This daunting acquaintance loves seeking you out. The feeling isn’t mutual, regardless of how successful the attempts are. It’s the aftershocks that you dread most. In the moment, everything happens so fast, there’s no time to be afraid until you reflect on it later.

Nona would tell you that what’s done is done, no point in dwelling on it further.

Lear would suggest you exercise more caution in the future, whilst barely being able to hold back tears of relief that it wasn't worse.

They aren’t here, though, you think. I only have him.

You swivel around on the kitchen island’s barstool to examine Blade like he’s examining you. He’s wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist as his clothes were dirtied beyond saving. Water trickles down the contours of his scarred, lithe body. The scent of orange and vanilla wafts in the air beside him, courtesy of the safehouse’s shower, no doubt. You prefer that over the metallic miasma which clung to him previously.

His crimson eyes pierce through the dimly lit room. You can’t decipher his expression, nor do you care to. What matters is that he gives some reassurance there won’t be a repeat of today’s incident. Knowing him, however, that’s too much to ask, but you’re starting to wonder if sweet lies are kinder than the truth.

Blade’s predatory gaze pauses at the fresh bruise on your forearm. What he doesn’t reveal outwardly is more than made up for by the sickening wrath his mind emanates. You wince beneath its intensity, a reaction he ignores, surprisingly, as he’s too focused on the hand-shaped indent. It isn’t until you inhale sharply that he snaps out of his reverie and the pressure in the room lessens.

While you rub your aching temples, he approaches, slinking forward like a stray cat. Though he viciously defends you as a guard dog would, you think he shares more similarities with the feline species. He bristles at anyone’s touch but yours, silently stares until you give him attention, and would gladly lay a pile of his kills at your feet, seeking approval for the macabre offering.

There was a time you’d voice this musing to observe his displeasure.

That time has long since passed.

Blade’s calloused fingertips run over the bruise, light enough to spare you any pain.

“Are there more?” he asks.

“I haven’t checked,” you shift back to rid yourself of his touch. His eyebrows pinch together, forming creases. “Is that really all you have to say?”

He’s glowering now. You don’t know what displeases him more — your avoidance of his touch, irate tone, or the condemnation hitherto left unsaid.

“You would’ve had me show mercy to your attackers?”

Blade enunciates the word mercy with every ounce of contempt one would regard their mortal enemy with. Now you’re beginning to better understand why getting him under control was such an ordeal. You encountered every possible resistance when attempting a link with him, a phenomenon you hadn’t experienced since that fateful day in The Lounge’s private room. He was always so receptive to, well, you, oddly pliant to your whims so long as you framed them right.

“You didn’t need to—” your throat goes dry, as the sights, sounds, and smells from earlier resurface, “—Need to…”

Fucking terrify me.

Sometimes, you forget on purpose.

You forget so you can drunkenly ramble anecdotes about your strangest clients over drinks, let him teach you the steps of weapon forging, and not struggle when he pulls you into his chest at night.

You forget so that your resentment can stay suspended in time, never growing past a point that’d suffocate you.

You forget so you can remember how to live.

Streams of sunlight sneak past the room’s blinds. You reach out, as if to catch it, allowing the beam to settle on your hand. The closest star to this planet — Varsig — is named the Spectator. The planet’s earliest inhabitants once thought the giant orb to be a god’s eye. Following their every movement, scrutinizing their every decision.

In the current year of 2157 AE, few still believe this superstition.

You understand where those ancient civilizations were coming from.

Eris’ eternal night hid wrongdoings behind a silvery veil. Stars, however, ensure you witness everything. Every misstep, shame, and regret is crystal clear. There’s no questioning the integrity of what you see. It burrows into your memory where it intends to remain forevermore. You’re reminded again and again that you’re no longer an Exalted Arbiter, but a means to an end for the universe’s most notorious criminal faction.

Either way, it’s a glorified transfer of ownership.

Still. At least then you had Loopy, Nona, Lear—

“You’re thinking about him.”

You freeze upon hearing his gruff accusation. Swiftly, perhaps suspiciously so, you turn the faucet of your thoughts off. Too much slipped through in your carelessness. Blade might not have your level of experience when it comes to decrypting the minds of others, but he’s spent enough time around you to pick up on a few things. The low-level link you share with him goes both ways, as per that miscreant Kafka’s suggestion.

For the most part, it’s an unobtrusive function that’s no more noticeable than one’s breathing. This prevents the continuous uptime from placing heavy strain on you. Identifying fluctuations in Blade’s mara is its main function. However, if you’re not being vigilant, a few segments from your psyche can pass through to him.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

It’s an unconvincing apology.

His mara, previously satiated from its earlier gorging, rouses. It seeks to form a tribunal with you as the defendant. This disease hates you, worships you, and longs to break you so that it might stitch you up and do it all over again.

Blade shakes his head and sighs.

The mara’s deliberation over your sentencing fades, leaving nothing but uncomfortable silence.

He turns around and starts walking away. Your eyes, ever keen in the dark, trace over the scars that cover his back. The off-color testimonies to his many battles have welcomed a newcomer, inducted into the ranks hours prior. The skin is red and angry. His long hair partially covers it — a slash made from the right side of his back to the lower left.

There’s little you know about combat, but from what you can tell, his opponents were skilled. They moved too fast for you to get an accurate count. In the aftermath, the remains were either butchered beyond recognition, or the few intact limbs so spread out, you couldn’t arrive at a number then either. Blade intercepted every shot and stab intended for you. He parried most, yet some slipped through the cracks. Without a second’s hesitation, he’d shield you from the onslaught, unfazed by what must’ve been excruciating pain.

That undying devotion is yours.

He belongs to you, really. Possibly more than you belong to him. This husk of a man who flayed the flesh of your foes and hung them by their entrails. Only the Aeons above know what other desecrations he committed when your consciousness gave out.

Sometimes, you calm the chaos simmering in his veins.

Other times, you raise it to a rapid boil.

“Yingxing.”

His retreating figure stills. Before, holding the memories of who he once was guaranteed he’d succumb to the mara’s influence. It’s less definitive now. There’s an undeniable intimacy to it — speaking a name scratched from history. He isn’t Yingxing anymore, nor can he ever be again. Somewhere, wedged deep into a forgotten crevice of his psyche, a tiny fragment of that splintered identity slumbers.

You rouse it when you think he needs to remember the anguish of losing everything.

“Do you want to be loved by me?”

You’re plenty capable of feeling love.

You love your student, who wrestled with life to reclaim the joy it previously stole. You love your first friend, who didn’t cower away from the unruly girl who decided to change his name on a whim. On some days, you could even love your mother, if your memories deceived you enough.

What about him, whom you might spend centuries beside?

Can loneliness outweigh resentment?

After what feels like multiple lifetimes, he responds.

“Anything’s enough.”

When he leaves, he takes a part of you with him.

…

You rise from your seat.

#blade x reader #yandere blade x reader #honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #yandere hsr x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #nexus #my stuff

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punksocks · 9 months

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Astrology Observations No.23

*just based on my experiences only take what resonates

Quite a few people with Chiron in Gemini are singers, talented ones too

We always talk about intuition of Pisces and Scorpio but Cancer placements are also crazy intuitive. I feel like you really can’t fool someone about how you’re feeling with Cancer in the big 6.

Air moons tend to catch feelings when someone is unavailable; earth moons tend to catch feelings when someone is more stable/ambitious than them; fire moons tend to catch feelings when someone is passionate and courageous; water moons tend to catch feelings when someone has sort of dreamy/otherworldly energy to them (that unspoken spark really gets to water moons)

If you wanna seduce Venus in 9th, travel with them or teach them something new

if you want to win over someone with Venus in 2nd/Taurus you should get them gifts (can apply to earth moons too imo- as long as the gift is useful or high end for them)

Quietly I think Capricorn in the big 6 can make you just as domestic as cancer in the big 6, but a Capricorn is usually going to talk about/pay attention their public image more

Someone said the only thing they can’t deal with is someone throwing it back in your face when you try to help them/give them advice (like the other person saying you don’t care or that you’re just in it for yourself) and yeah that’s Virgo mars

Moon square/opposition to the ascendant could have people assume you’re putting on a personality/faking something

Saturn in Pisces is another placement to make sure you watch your mental health, all of Saturn’s consequences come at your subconscious

Do water risings seem to have a theme of like not trying to let their perspectives be colored by some sort of sadness ? (Cancer Asc - nostalgia /which isn’t always sad but if you hear cancer placements talk about it then they often filter their own nostalgia through a certain sadness; Scorpio Asc - traumatic experiences that shaped their perspective; Pisces Asc - a feeling of like ennui, a certain kind of listlessness)

Neptune in the houses can show frequent locations if your dreams (3rd house- school, childhood neighborhoods; 4th house- childhood home, places you’d visit a lot with your family; 6th house the workplace; 9th house places you’ve traveled to or want to go to, etc)

Something we don’t talk about with Chiron in 1st is that it’s an energy amplifier imo. So when you’re healed you give off healing energy, but when you’re unhealed or even toxic you subconsciously spread that energy around (or maybe consciously, a lot of people I’ve known that belittle and nitpick others from a place of insecurity have Chiron in 1st)

If mars aspects your 4th house you may have grown up fighting and arguing a lot, especially with your family but in your childhood environment in general

Taurus placements will have their whole day impacted by a disappointing meal (especially moons- also mars imo)

Aries placements have trouble maturing sometimes bc their sign is then youngest of the zodiac (Pisces is the old man but this can make them unclear and disconnected too)

Aquarius in the big 3 (especially Aquarius moon) tend to be really good at playing detached and calculating (in real life too lol but I’m thinking of Rosamund Pike and how well she sold her cool girl speech from gone girl - she’s a double Aquarius) (also in real life people aren’t always so predictable/controllable so this calculating behavior can go sideways sometimes)

I love how the Pluto in Scorpio generation is making all of this mainstream art about transformation and healing generational trauma (everything everywhere all at once is what I was watching when I thought of this)

Also I’m still working on how to utilize degree theory best but Daniel kwan (one of the everything everywhere all at once directors) has Scorpio moon at a cancer degree (19) and his most acclaimed movie so far is about depression, trauma, and generational curses (I love everything everywhere all at once pls watch it, I cried 3 times when I watched it and I’m a Capricorn moon so you know that means a lot lol)

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kquil · 4 months

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DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER ONE

01 : ARRIVAL

SERIES SUM. : (A Marauders Era Fix-It-Fic - featuring Reader as Walburga Black but better)

You wake up in pitch blackness and under excruciating pain. It isn't too long before you realise that you've been transported into the world of Harry Potter…and you've taken the place of a familiar villainess - Walburga Black. You need to escape this toxic family. The first order of business is Divorce AND YOU'RE DEFINITELY TAKING THE KIDS!

CHPT. SUM. : you take a familiar villainess' place, but it's all just a dream, right?

TAGS. : son sirius black/mother reader ; son regulus black/mother reader ; marauders fix-it-fic ; transferring into harry potter series (marauders era) au ; reader is a harry potter fan ; but not a JKR fan ; walburga black is no more ; or is she? ; pre-marauders era ; sirius black is an angry child ; regulus black is a precious baby ; big brother sirius being a little jealous ; mentions of child abuse (not explicit) ; orion black can eat dirt ; kreacher is a precious bean ; not canon compliant ; the journey begins!

LENGTH : 6.3k

1st August 1971

Your eyes snap open to opaque darkness as a silent scream escapes you. Pain. Excruciating and tormenting pain rips your head in two and paralyses the rest of your body. You want to call for help, desperate for relief but words fail you. It’s as if someone had lacerated your throat and ran away with your mangled vocal cords. Overwhelmed by the pressure in your head, you quickly surrender and fall into the mouth of the hungry blackness encompassing you.

The next time you wake up, you were almost blissfully unaware of the agony you previously awoke to if you weren’t sorely reminded by the lingering compression in your ears, an, almost, unbearable pounding ache in your skull, and the paralysis of your limbs. Your shaky breaths sound amplified in your ringing ears as you slowly regain control of your desensitised appendages but the stabbing sensation against your skull persists. It doesn’t appear to want to dull out unlike most continuous pains. In a desperate effort to mute the throbbing, you curl up into the foetal position and focus on your breathing, your hands clutching at the temporal and parietal areas of your head. After a while, there’s some relief. Sweet relief.

The darkness remains as obscure and daunting as you had first awoken to, a dead, unfeeling space — like a black hole. But it can’t be that. It can’t be a black hole. You hope it isn’t, at least. There has to be a way out of here.

With great effort and a groan of pain, you get onto your hands and knees, suffering through agonising aches as you feel about the space around you. All the objects you come into contact with are insignificant, too ordinary for your brain to comprehend and speculate over — though the unrelenting throbbing in your skull may be of probable cause to your lack of analysis — it came with one reassuring thought however, their existence was evidence enough that this wasn’t a black hole…

What poor thoughts.

You’ve never been so vapid. The thoughts swirling in your head were so lacking in cognition and inference that you instinctually shook your head in disappointment. A black hole? Impossible! —Unless you were launched into space in between the meeting with your investors and your journey home. Were you drugged? Taken hostage? If you were then why weren’t your limbs tied up? Eventually, your trembling hands find a wall, a small success that you quickly take advantage of, tracing the perimeter of the boxy room, hoping to find a doorway or vent, anything that could lead you to freedom. You probably look pathetic crawling around but there weren’t any traces of light, even a locked box was more illuminated than this.

Your rambling thoughts continue, a distraction from the throbbing in your skull, until you feel it. A break in the wall, the border to a door. You didn’t waste any time and ignored all pains to stand and feel out the space for the doorknob, leaning your weight against the wooden entrance to alleviate your weak limbs. Disoriented and brainless — were you terribly hungover or something? More speculations, more unanswered questions but finally a release to freedom! The door relented and gave way as you finally found its handle, pushing down with your weight and tumbling towards freedom.

The light burned your eyes and made you tear up but the relief of liberty was soothing. The throbbing, stabbing pains in your skull were now replaced by a reeling dizziness and it throws you off balance. But your hand catches the wall to steady you while your other clutches at your head; your disorientation grows and grows. It feels like you were tied to the end of a string and spun around as the length of the string gradually increases, giving the sensation of your mushy brain being stretched out. What in the world have you done to be put through this amount of distress and trauma?

Curling your fingers into your head, you try to distract from the sickening dizziness with grounding pain and search for repose but are given none. Just as your nails begin to claw at your scalp as your other hand gropes at unfamiliar, drab wallpaper, a voice calls out to you. It’s small and confused, full of light and youth — it’s a child’s voice.

“Mother?…”

Turning to the hesitant call, you lock eyes with steel grey pools. It’s a little boy. Maybe eight to nine years of age. He has beautiful short black hair, pale skin and angular features but childishly soft cheeks. His formal-like dress and perfect posture makes him look like a little prince. You don’t answer him right away; too distracted with your curious surveillance so he calls to you again with furrowed brows and the same title on his tongue, ‘mother’.

He was talking to you. Strange…

“Did you just call me ‘mother’?” you ask, he doesn’t answer and you try not to wince, still very light-headed and muddled, “Why?”

“Because you are my mother,” the stare he affixes you with makes it obvious that he thinks you’re a crazy person. No, but he’s the crazy one!

“Are you okay mother?” another, almost identical looking boy walks up and stands beside the first. He, too, has beautiful black hair and pale skin but with much softer features so he must be younger than the first. They wear a similar attire —another little prince. Two little princes, brothers, that view you as their mother.

But that’s impossible…

The younger of the two has an air of politeness surrounding him as he watches you with empathy swimming in his grey pools. In clear objection to the compassion his younger brother was willing to give you, the eldest child subtly squints at your crumpled and distressed figure.

“I don’t have children…” your weak voice states but fails to continue, bewildered but confident in the fact although it breaks your heart. It just slipped out and now the two boys were stiff and tense from head to toe.

Quickly shaking off his rigid limbs, the older brother scowls at you, “as much as we don’t want to be your children, we are!” his tone his biting as he speaks with a snarl, his pristine white teeth bared for defence and attack. With stomping footfalls, the duo run away, fleeing your sight in a blur of blacks, whites and greys. As soon as they’re gone, your dizziness hits you once more, like a boulder to the head, and sends you collapsing into the ground.

Again, your world goes pitch black.

2nd August 1971

There’s no spiralling darkness when you next wake up, nor is there an abundance of lamplight to make your eyes tear up, instead, beautiful golden rays of sunlight fall through the tall glass windows behind you. It was a much easier radiance to adjust to. You’re tucked away in bed, silky, comfortable and perfectly warm. Perhaps yesterday was just a dream, a very vivid dream— no, a nightmare. You let out a groan and squeeze your eyes shut. No matter how long it’s been, your thoughts of failure and self hatred over your own incompetence still haunts you. Curling up under the covers, you go through the breathing exercise your therapist imbued into you.

Acknowledge it, accept it, let it go…

The phrase repeats in your head several times. The longer you rehearse it, the more your limbs unfurl until you’re flat on your back once more.

…rigid.

Now that you think about it, was your bed always this…stiff?

Blinking in confusion, your eyes focus on the ceiling and widen. You don’t have a chandelier in your bedroom. Your eyes quickly jump down and examine the bed you lay in. This wasn’t your bed, no. Where were your Hedwig and Niffler plushies? Your all-white sheets were gone and replaced by all-black covers. It was then that you finally comprehend the cool sensation laying against your forehead, jolting your body forward, you let out a yelp of surprise as the small soaked towel falls from your brow.

Your shocked shriek is almost matched by the bawling that accompanies it, drawing your eyes to a being you’ve only seen in movies. The small house-elf stares at you with shaking, blood-shot eyes and unaltered terror folded into his wrinkly expression. Endless apologies fall from his mouth, sincere and all underpinned by intense anxiety. He’s so real; his small, skeletal-like chest rapidly moving up and down due to his desperate pants. His three-dimensional existence quickly falls and kneels before you to commence grovelling, his shaking hands held together in prayer.

“...Kreacher…” you gape at the house-elf, eyes wide and breath caught in your throat. In disbelief over the elf’s actuality, you reach out for him, awestruck and so dazed that you almost miss how he flinches away from your approaching touch. Apologetic, you retreat your hand and adjust yourself to sit against the headboard before addressing him, “I-I wasn’t going to hit you…”

“Kreacher is needing to be hit, mistress,” the contrite house-elf voices, twiddling his thumbs as he remains knelt down.

Mistress…?

“Please stand, Kreacher,” you neglect to perceive his surprise in your use of the word ‘please’ as you’re still in awe of him yourself. With a subtle shake of your head, you do your best to push away your astonishment in search of answers, “and fetch me a mirror,”

Kreacher promptly clicks his fingers and a handheld mirror appears before you. You try not to awe at the demonstration of magic — it's a simple spell in this world — and proceed to take it in your hesitant hands. Judging from what you have been able to gather, Kreacher calling you mistress and the two young boys addressing you as mother…Walburga Black should be the reflection staring back at you. However, you don’t see a black-haired, cold-eyed, pale-skinned woman, with a constant frowning wrinkle on her brow, you see yourself. You touch your face just to make sure you weren’t mistaken. It is you.

Was this just a vivid dream? It feels so real…

Mirror set aside, you look back at Kreacher and are astonished once more at seeing just how alive he is. His mannerisms were completely authentic and he was solid from all sides. There’s no mistaking that he’s right in front of you, tangible and no longer fictional.

What wonders the mind can achieve when you fangirl and nerd out enough over something… But why aren’t you in the Lightening era timeline? And why are you in Walburga’s shoes? Now you’re the mother of Sirius and Regulus Black… The questions don’t stop, nor do the conjectures. Maybe it’s your mind trying to get over your life’s trauma vicariously through your favourite series and fandom… the notionmade some sense. You, not only, have one son but two. Should you feel elated or anxious?

As your thoughts continue, the apologies falling from Kreacher’s lips slowly get louder and louder until you snap out of your spaced-out state. Guilt quickly gathers in your stomach at the realisation that Kreacher had been vocally repentant this whole time and you haven’t yet acknowledged him in the slightest.

“What are you apologising for, Kreacher?” you finally ask, putting a stop to his penitent speech.

“Kreacher did not realise mistress had the sickness; Kreacher did not serve her well,” his tone was incredibly apologetic and there was no mistaking the panic in his eyes.

“...It’s alright Kreacher,” the reassurance in your voice was something the house-elf was not used to and you almost smile at the explicit amazement in his eyes, “I did not know that I was ill, myself, so thank you for taking care of me when I fainted,” your warm smile confuses the house-elf but you continue. Even though this is a dream, you were going to do things right, “it was you who took care of me, correct?”

His astonishment doesn’t leave his eyes as he nods, slack-jawed and meek, “yes..it was Kreacher, mistress,”

You nod in approval and spot a plate of food in your periphery, set neatly atop the bedside table, “thank you, Kreacher. You are dismissed,” the bashful but, still, misery-stricken house-elf goes to say something, glancing over at the bedside table but you promptly cut him off, “I will eat the food you prepared shortly, thank you, again,”

With a simple nod, Kreacher disappears in a blink and you slowly bring the plate of breakfast onto your lap. Eating in bed, you digest your situation and take in your surroundings. This was all a very realistic dream but a dream nonetheless. And it was a chance for you to, not only do right by the characters you adore but make peace with your past and present. This was a second chance. Even if it was only a dream.

Just as you finish up your plate of breakfast, you also conclude your examination of the supposed ‘master bedroom’ and frown. The disapproval is clear in your furrowed brows, narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

Whoever designed this room needs to be demoted…or fired.

The Blacks were such a wealthy family, surely they had more saved up to be able to hire a decent interior designer. The colours blended into each other and no furniture, wallpaper or trinket could bring you any emotion other than despair. With that disappointing thought and a grimace at the, overall, sombre decor of the room, you turn to place your clean plate back on the nightstand when a rolled up piece of paper catches your eye. Innocuously folded and tucked to the left of where your breakfast plate once laid was a newspaper, the Daily Prophet. Hurriedly exchanging your plate and utensils for the paper, your anticipation rose to witness the infamous articles and its moving pictures. You almost couldn’t stop the schoolgirl giggle from escaping your smiling lips. Never before had you been so excited to read the paper.

Unfolding the pages, you awe at the front cover before quickly skimming the rest of the folio. It’s the real thing and it’s so detailed…even for a dream.

It was written in clear script on the top, right hand side of the front page. 2nd August 1971. There was no doubt in your mind now that you were just about to enter the Marauders era timeline. If you weren’t mistaken, this was the summer leading up to Sirius’ first year at Hogwarts, which meant that, as his mother — the notion was still abnormal to you but also incredibly heartwarming —, you had a duty to help him fetch his school supplies for Hogwarts. You would also have the honour of seeing him receive his own wand before helping him buy his uniform robes and other necessities. You would even help him pack his bags for Hogwarts, congratulate and celebrate his achievements with him, wish him a good day, support him unconditionally… everything a loving and present mother would do. And, of course, you would treat Regulus the same way. It makes your heart sing and butterflies flutter about in your stomach; you get to be a mother.

—one moment…

If the date is correct in the newspaper and you’re right in that Sirius would be attending Hogwarts in a month’s time, then why did he appear one to two years younger than what an eleven-year-old should look like?

Pondering over the question makes you grimace. It’s entirely possible that it could be Walburga and Orion’s doing, Sirius definitely has a defiant manner about him despite only being eleven years of age and it wouldn’t be abnormal to expect the Black couple to be callous towards their own sons, enough to, somehow, stunt their growth. With a click of your tongue and a roll of your eyes, you eagerly move on from the topic and observe the front page more closely only for your breath to stutter and catch in your throat.

A moving picture of the harrowing dark mark being cast over a house plays in a loop before you. Reading the associated article, you feel your stomach turn in on itself. It was such a disgusting display.

“How cruel…” Your disgust morphs into sorrow as you read over the killings made within the specific house. It belonged to innocent muggleborns and their family members, both magic folk dubbed as blood traitors and their muggle family were massacred. It was clearly an attack meant to bring fear and terror to muggle borns and the pureblooded witches and wizards that dare protect them - all in the name of the dark lord and his bigoted agenda.

What a load of bullshit.

Not stopping for long, you read interview quotes from blood purists showing their support over the act. Their only reason was that they feared losing their pureblood traditions entirely to muggleborns. The horrific, terroristic happenings all appear to follow after the election of a muggle born Minister of Magic (Nobby Leach), the induction of Dumbledore as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and then the introduction of Voldemort last year. It’s deplorable that that’s all it takes for blood purists to excuse such radical operations —it’s inhumane.

“‘The Ministry continues to spare no effort’,” you read under your breath but frown despite the reassuring words, “I bet those Deatheaters get a real ego boost from that statement…” if you remember correctly, Voldemort was enlisting more Deatheaters as well as magical creatures. However, those who are seen as ‘inferior’ were made to suffer, namely Goblins and House-elves. It doesn’t sit well with you.

The fact that the fantasy world around you — one that you’re an avid fan of — feels so incredibly real, despite it being a dream, suddenly looks very bleak makes your chest tighten. And you quickly find yourself agonising over the lives of many children across the country, both in the muggle and wizarding world, being filled with unhappiness and gloom purely because of the selfish and bigoted adults that are supposed to protect them.

You click your tongue bitterly. Only a terf could write or imply something so tragic in a supposed children’s book…

Just as you set down the newspaper and lean back against the headboard, Kreacher materialises at your bedside and begins to clear away your plate and paper. You shoot him a smile of thanks that he has a mixed reaction to. Before disappearing, he observes your state once more, dull eyes searching for something. When he returns a moment later, he’s carries with him a slim vial filled with a red, almost-pinkish liquid that contained ascending bubbles. Carbonated? It looked like a normal drink — like a brightly dyed, flavoured tea or sports drink.

With eyes of fascination, you carefully take the potion vial from Kreacher. You were about to take your first ever magical potion and you plan on savouring every moment of it, even the moments leading up to drinking it. Slowly turning the vial in your hand, you realise that the consistency of the liquid isn’t as light as water; it was a little thicker.

“It’s a healing potion mistress,” Kreacher explains at your bedside, hunched over with his features scrunched up into a permanent scowl, “for the hot fever, mistress,” you give him a small, grateful smile for the explanation. It’s been a while since someone has been proactive when it came to caring for your wellbeing; it made you feel better knowing that Kreacher was around to take care of your needs, disregarding that it was an obligation he couldn’t escape from. Being a successful woman in commerce didn’t mean you were successful in all aspects of life. You still needed to be cared for. This was a welcomed compassion you were going to take full advantage of.

“Thank you Kreacher,” you swiftly uncork the vial and down the potion like a shot, not expecting it to taste so revolting, “Ugh! That’s horrid!” you cough and feel tears surface. This was supposed to be your dream so why did you come up with something so foul-tasting?! You’ve never tasted anything so disgusting! You can’t even begin to describe the flavour —it’s too foul for words!

Shaken up by your amplified reaction, Kreacher begins to shake but explains that it’s how all healing potions tasted, “there are other potions with the baddest tastes mistress,” you try to shake away the repulsive flavour but have no such luck and turn to Kreacher with a plea.

“Water? Please?” with a snap of his fingers, a cool glass of fresh, crisp water appears and you immediately reach out to drink it. The repulsive taste on your tongue dilutes the more you drink but it doesn’t fully lift off your taste buds. Even after drinking the entire tall glass of water, the awful taste of the healing potion lingered — you couldn’t even feel relieved from the feverish headache that left you.

The healing potion had worked its purpose and you were up and about 12 Grimmauld Place, taking in its dismal but elegant interior, opulent decor and its many rooms. You didn’t know what to expect. It was evident how wealthy the Black Family was in their expensive tastes but that didn’t necessarily translate into aesthetic arrangements. When you watched the movies, it was understandable how dilapidated it was but, despite currently being lived-in, it still looked dull. All rooms appeared the same and began to blend into one another the more you moved around. You still awed at the realistic display of the place, however; it all felt so real, as if your surroundings breathed with life and every ornament, wall and structure had its own individual heartbeat. Just the thought made your heart race. This was once a purely fictional setting and now, your dream brought it to life and you were fully encapsulated - happily so.

One room that held your attention far better than all other rooms of the house combined was the home library. It was majestic, regal and old — a charming space that you were eager to explore. Its many shelves were lined with an assortment of books, many containing magical knowledge such as light magic and dark magic, which was surprising when considering the Black family’s preference for dark magic. What wasn’t surprising was the amount of books detailing traditional wizard and witch rituals, dates, holidays and more. Purebloods and their need for the maintenance of customs and ceremonies, you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. You expected there to be more books on dark magic but most were on the history of the wizarding world and its many traditions, some of which you had never seen or heard mention of in the Harry Potter book series, movies or games.

Your mind was very creative and you were quite proud of yourself for it.

Time passes you as the pages of many books are skimmed by your eyes. You have no idea how much time ticks by as you consume book after book, flicking through pages before being interrupted by a rapid knock at the door succeeded by the entrance to the library being hurriedly pushed open.

“Mother,” Regulus pants with softly flushed cheeks. His head of curls were a hint messier than the last time you met eyes with him, however, he was still dressed more formally than how a normal ten year old boy should be dressed. It was then, however, that you realised your greatest, influential role — a role that’s far more important than being the head of your company. You’re a mother now. A mother to two gorgeous and darling sons, who deserve all the love in the world. It made tears well up in your eyes. Your subconscious had realised your truest, purist desires and brought it to you in a dream through your beloved fictional characters, ”M-mother?” snapping out of your trance, you realise Regulus had been waiting for you to signal that it was okay for him to speak but hadn’t yet.

“Yes?” Your soft voice appears to catch him off-guard but he’s quick to recover and steel his features.

“I apologise for coming to you late, Mother,” he begins, remaining at the door with his shoulders straight and expression level despite the anxiety for his mistake clearly showing in his eyes. He’s still slightly panting but endeavours to explain himself quickly for your expediency.

“It’s alright, darling, take your time,” you offer a kind smile that he doesn’t know how to respond to. And, instead of assuring him, you seem to have only made him more fearful.

“I-I’m terribly sorry, Mother, it was entirely my mistake. It won’t happen again, I swear!” he pleads with tearful eyes and a quivering lip. His small voice raises in volume no matter how much he tries to control it and eventually has to stop talking altogether just so he could gather himself.

“Regulus, you’ve done nothing wrong,” your words have such a profound effect on him that he stills, completely frozen in time from shock and confusion, “what were you going to say originally, darling?” ‘darling’… the endearment slips you so naturally and it doesn’t even bother you — this really was your heart’s truest desire.

Regulus takes a few minutes to himself, trying to find his voice and swallowing to wet his gone-dry mouth in order to speak without his voice cracking, which would have an ill demonstration of the Black family’s standing, “I, once again, apologise for my lateness, mother. I did not realise you would be in the family library rather than your study today,” it’s clear he’s still quite flustered from his earlier frantic search for your wandering form as he was still faintly panting under his breath. You raise a gentle hand and, paired with your soft smile, you silently assure him to take his time once more. He appreciates the unusual consideration and leniency from his typically stringent mother, “as per usual, I am here to update you on the progress of my home studies. I’ve read through all the chapters you wanted me to read and had written notes appropriately, complete with summary paragraphs…”

You don’t speak as you observe the sweet boy before you, his shoulder pulled back and chin held squarely as if he was a soldier, a man of rigorous instruction rather than the innocent young boy he was supposed to be. As you stare with an unknown and unfamiliar look in your eyes, Regulus tenses up, slowly backing into the hallway once more. His mother is a woman of few words but would usually hum along in approval to his list of completed tasks — it was a trivial gesture of favour that he eagerly sought after, wanting nothing more than to seek your acceptance. Complete and utter silence could either be dangerous or harmless. The potential risk made the hairs on his arms raise. The poor boy didn’t know what to make of your bizarre mannerisms lately. His heart raced to new heights and his throat felt even more closed up than usual.

Slowly, you walk up to him and kneel down, love and fondness clear in your gentle eyes. However, it was such a rare emotion for Regulus to see in his mother’s eyes that he tensed up more at the stare, no matter how affectionate and warm.

It has to be a trap, somehow…

Your gentle hand reaches up and cups his cherubic cheek, one of the few remaining demonstrations of his youth. Plumper, you need to fill in his cheeks, make them softer and more rounded; you’ll stop at nothing to get them to that state as soon as possible. With your thumb, you lovingly stroke his cheek and smile with all the love welling up in your chest. Your features are soft with the warmth and affection you wanted to convey beyond words. This is the first time Regulus has ever seen his mother look so kind. He’s never seen it before —it looks nice. His mother looks pretty now. He really hopes this isn’t a trap.

Innate maternal love and instincts overwhelm you. And, after a moment, you take the plunge. You pull him into your arms and embrace his slim, short figure, pressing your face into his hair as you tuck his face into your shoulder. Finally, you have your own son, and you’re going to love him with all your heart. In your mind, you vow to all deities you would care for him like no other, even if in a dream.

“A dream come true,” you say in a voice dripping with tears. Faintly, you hear Regulus ask for what you mean, muffled from how you have his face buried into your shoulder, “having a son like you, it’s a dream come true…”

Regulus can’t believe his ears as a warmth spreads through his chest, rapid and, like a blossoming array of wild flowers, it’s accompanied with the purest happiness he’s ever felt in his short life so far. He doesn’t know what to say, speechless from your words, words that he’s never before heard from his mother. He’s wished so many times for such a scenario to come true that he can’t quite believe that it’s happening to him now.

—BANG!

Sirius stands at the end of the hall, glaring ferociously at the scene happening before him, a bitter emotion consuming his small form at the words he hears and he promptly storms off. But you’re too quick with your lengthier strides and desire to reach him before he goes too far. Without a second thought, you hug the eldest brother to your chest too. You’ve pulled him as close to you as possibly could despite his protests and attempts at pushing you away.

With a stern voice, you speak up against his thrashing form, “Sirius, do not get aggressive with me,”

“I don’t care!”

“You will care because you’ll end up hurting someone and or yourself one day, if you keep this up!”

Sirius is flooded by shock at your response and he freezes up. His mother never cared whether or not he or anyone else got hurt, so long as they succumbed to her ridiculous demands. He can’t recognise his own mother anymore. Taking full advantage of his paralysed state, your hold turns gentle and you begin to comb your fingers through his inky locks.

“Breathe...” you try to calm him down by gently petting the back of his hair down and occasionally running your nails along his scalp, “talk to me…what’s upset you?” looking up, you see Regulus a metre or two away with a curious look on his face, a mix of amazement, curiosity and caution. Sirius doesn’t respond so you gently prompt him, pulling away to meet his conflicted eyes, “darling?”

Sirius is stunned into silence and doesn’t know what to say, he’s in complete denial over what’s happening – this can’t be his mother, “did you hit your head or something?” he accuses in a snappy tone and you step back, a wave of realisation washing over you. Before this, Sirius and Regulus were pushed around by Walburga daily, abused and tortured in an attempt to conform to her ways. It breaks your heart but also fills you with determination. Even though this is just a dream, you will make the proper changes and treat them kindly. They deserve a loving mother, one who supports them and loves them unconditionally. As you part your lips to voice something, you feel an ominous presence enter the hallway.

When you look up and over your shoulder, your eyes meet liquid mercury, swirling with anger and paired with the deepest frown. Orion Black approaches from behind you, his footsteps daunting and seeming to echo through the shaking walls of the hallway as he fixes Sirius with a cold glare. His own son, who’s only 11 years old.

“What is going on here?” Orion demands but completely ignores you when you try to explain. Your husband’s focus stubbornly remains on your son, the accusation and wrath in his eyes aggrandised. He continues to bark at Sirius, who looks at the floor in quiet shame and with bitten lips. You know he’s terrified but still tries to appear strong, knowing that if he cried out and showed weakness through pained anger in front of his parents, they would use it as ammunition to berate and abuse him further, “don’t you dare talk to your mother that way again, Sirius!”

Orion raises his wand to punish him but you hurriedly step in the way and tuck Sirius’ face into your stomach. Chin over your shoulder, you meet eyes with your husband andtry to keep from snarling at him lest your true intentions and change of heart come to light and raise red flags, “this is between me and Sirius, I will deal with his punishment myself,”

Sirius doesn’t know whether he should be fearful or relieved. That emotion is so foreign to him, especially when it comes to his mother and talks of punishment. Thankfully, Orion lets the situation go and nods curtly before walking back to his study with a huff, muttering about wasted time on his ‘useless son’ under his breath.

“My punishment is to eat dinner in my room…” the brothers share a confused look, “usually, it’s to have no dinner and no breakfast…”

“Or worse…” Regulus’ words make them both shiver; a cold chill runs up their spines and inspires dark memories to surface. Un-welcomed, they shake their heads and banish the remembrance.

Diverting the topic altogether, Sirius picks at his food, “what do you think happened to her?”

“Mother?” Regulus asks and receives a confirming nod, “I don’t know…Kreacher told me–” Sirius pulls a face at the friendship his brother has fostered with the elf, “that mother had a terrible fever yesterday and fainted after we saw her in the hallway,”

Sirius thinks for a moment and chews a little longer than usual, ruminating over the new information, “you think that’s what made her like that?”

Regulus shrugs his small shoulders, “that’s the only thing I could think of…” the youngest brother slowly begins to lose himself in thought, thinking back to when his mother embraced him tenderly and whispered such lovely, affirming words beside his ear.

‘A dream come true… having a son like you, it’s a dream come true…’

“You like the change?” Sirius snaps his little brother out of his daydream and Regulus flushes in slight embarrassment, avoiding his older brother’s disapproving eyes. Or was that disappointment? Maybe something else?

“She’s much nicer now…”

“It won’t last forever,” Sirius says roughly, bitterness and disbelief evident in his voice as his brows furrow; he doesn’t want to believe that his mother, one of the two people responsible for hurting him and his little brother day in and day out, could have the capacity to change overnight, “you’ll see…”

Regulus doesn’t want to believe his brother but how could he deny such a pragmatic expectation? His older brother is right. It’s unrealistic for him to believe in such a miracle. Nevertheless, there was a troublesome ray of hope that warmed the depths of his chest and clenched around his beating heart with purpose. It was immature to be so optimistic but he can’t help hoping.

And, he’d never admit it out loud but… Sirius was hopeful too.

3rd August 1971

You’re astonished at how long this dream has stretched on for. You’ve been able to finish the previous day, fallen asleep beside your husband and rose the next day to have breakfast with your darling boys, served by Kreacher. And now, you’re happily immersing yourself in the home library once more.

Amazed, you consume the contents of the book in your hand, you’ve never come across such information in the Harry Potter books, movies or games. It’s so novel! You feel bubbling excitement rise from deep within you, enchanted and equally awestruck from your imagination, even in sleep. You should be a fanfiction writer!

“I can’t believe how detailed and long this dream is continuing on for…” you mutter to yourself, beginning to smile at your luck before you’re harshly interrupted.

“This isn’t a dream you insufferable muggle!” a shrieking shrill scream echoes in your head and makes you wince. In a weak attempt at soothing the ache, you grasp at your temple with a hand. The throbbing discomfort the voice induces is equivalent to the same pain you experienced when you first woke up in that pitch black room, only, not as intense. The memory makes you wince even more and you wonder if the increase of pain was a type of phantom hurt brought on by your own thoughts.

“Wh-wha-?” you do your best to collect yourself but the wailing voice is unrelenting and perpetuates the pounding in your head.

“To hell with that ritual! What. Happened?! This wasn’t supposed to be the result! Explain yourself, you filthy muggle woman! HOW DARE YOU TAKE MY PLACE!”

With staggering realisation, all the pieces click together in your head and you’re stunned into silence as the raging voice of the villainess woman continues to demand answers in your head. Her voice is piercing but is dulled out by your curiosity and rising triumph.

“You’re saying this is real?...”

“Yes! You Filthy Muggle! Whatever you’ve done, reverse it now and allow me to return to my place!”

“...No,” your firm voice counters, a slow smirk gradually tugging at your lips. She goes silent, probably speechless at the audacity a ‘muggle’ has to disobey her demands, “I’m staying,” you threaten, “and I’m going to do right by your sons by giving them the life and mother they deserve—”

��You will do no such thing!” Walburga shouts once more in your head; this time, you don’t mind the throbbing pain it induces, “They are my sons and they—!”

“Not anymore bitch,” you grin deviously, “they’re my sons now,”

NEXT. | 02 : SHOPPING (1/2) →

A/N : this is my attempt at a fix it fic inspired by one of my favourite genres in webtoons etc - reincarnation/isekai/time travel do-overs, wish me luck! i hope i do a good job! ALSO! I'd like to express a special thank you to my dearest friend @thebestofoneshots for being such a darling and taking time out of her day to beta-read this first chapter for me, she's been such a sweetheart and was the one who helped motivate me to finish the first chapter! i don't think i would have been able to post this first chapter without her. i love you so much my darling! please go and support her by reading her work, commenting and reblog her work too! she deserves all the love in the world! and she writes so beautifully too! you won't regret it!

NAVI. | SERIES MASTERLIST

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88

SERIES TAGLIST OPEN

#marauders fic #marauders fanfiction #harry potter marauders #marauders era #the marauders era #sirius black #regulus black #the marauders #walburga black #the black brothers #orion black #DOB #Divorcing Orion Black #marauders fix-it-fic #reader insert #fem reader #marauders

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mademoisellegush · 10 months

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On the Emperor and *that* scene

so i went and looked at some of the branches of that conversation -he basically reacts by reflecting and amplifying whatever energy the player gives him. Whatever you say, he will not contradict you.

You reject him, violently? He'll show you how right you are, how much of a monster he is. You reject him, preferring to "stick to business"? so does he. You agree to see him as a potential partner? Not a one-night stand, you are "bonded and it is time to consummate love with war".

Something to keep in mind, however (pun intended) is that "to best protect yourself from illithid manipulation, pay attention to its actions, not words."

tldr: i think the emperor is a very neat character.

The first branch is the disgusted rejection - the one where the player calls him a freak. his reaction is to show you how right you are. a mind controlled Stelmane, how the partnership was puppeteering. "you are my puppet", he tells you. "You have no other choice, if I must, I will force you."

he does not force you to do anything, after that. the threat is there, of course, but it's hollow. empty.

should this be taken at face value? can we trust him, even now, that he is telling the truth? it is certain that he mind controlled stelmane, yes. But was he the one who made her ill?

two items put that into question. a) stelmane's portrait, hung up at his desk along all his treasured possessions from before and after he became an illithid (balduran's butter fork, to go with the butter knife. his old sword, a recipe for fiddlehead soup, his dog Rascal's collar. the emperor's outfit, container for brains, chains for his "meals".)

If he's a liar about everything, why does he have a framed picture of Stelmane? He would not have been able to physically go back and set things up in a Knights of the Shield secret hideout while he was stuck inside the Astral Prism in our pocket from the hells, down to the Underdark, unless i'm getting the timeline of this story majorly wrong.

and b) an account of stelmane's illness.

Stelmane's condition got worse *after* Balduran/the Emperor disappeared, captured by Gortash and the cult of the Absolute.

Make of that what you will. Is this an actual testimony, or something he somehow planted there for you to find, despite the logistical difficulties in doing so? You decide.

2. The violent rejection is the only branch where he does not tell you how big the elder brain has grown. I think that is because there is an actual reaction on his end; something vicious that he's unused to feeling. Not the cold, calculating pragmatism he was praising in the player character three lines ago. Compare the first branch to the following two paths:

What i think is: Balduran uses you. The sole thing he cares above all else is his continued survival, any power gained that way is a side benefit to his goal. If you even get the Orphic hammer, even "as leverage," even as you threaten him, he does not "force you" to do anything, as threatened above. Ansur died, yes, but is self defence murder? Neither Ansur nor Balduran deny that Ansur tried to mercy kill Balduran as he slept.

What I also think: you have to succeed at perception check, in the third guardian dream, to figure out that "the hurt runs deeper than they're willing to show you." then, an insight check (something that requires wisdom, what you use to resist, or lean into, the tadpole's hivemind) "beneath the resilient veneer, a touch of fragility. they need comfort." This allows you to hug them, if you desire - something they say "it has been a very long time since someone did that. for [me]".

Make of that what you will.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #the emperor #balduran #he is an awful little manipulative bastard and i think hes perfect

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nervousd · 1 year

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OBSESSING OVER RECOM!

→ CONTINUATION

━━━ : © NERVOUS.D

#SYNOPSIS— in which all recoms are obsessed with their recom teammate

#WARNING(S)— yandere(?), unhealthy fixation, unhealthy obsession, non consensual touching, groping, implications of forced mating, implications of noncon/dubcon, abuse of power, manipulation/manipulative, forced tsahylu

#CHARACTER(S)— Recom Group/ Deja Blu squad

Seeing your teammates being brought back from the dead was difficult to say the least. It was hard to accept that you had died and that this was the outcome. You had followed the Colonel’s steps in agreeing to project phoenix like a dog. And this is what you were given— not that you didn’t appreciate it. During the first week of waking up there were various test and blood sampling along with motor control and whatnot. It didn’t take long for everyone to be cleared. It was the clearance the squad needed to be sent out to Pandora.

During the expedition you had encountered a strange looking plant. It was beautiful— entrancing to look at. You were drawn closer, fingers brushing against the petals. In defense the plant spurted out a sweetening mist, coating your body in the smell. You reeled back in alarm, trying to dust off the pollen. You were given explicit orders by the Colonel to stay near the team. Stressing out his words, knowing you were the type to wander off. You didn’t listen— and now here you are, coated in a sweet substance. You scurried off to your teammates, stumbling in your own footsteps.

Heading back to base, you rushed to the communal showers scrubbing every inch of your body. The sweet smell didn’t go away, your teammates nagged you about the smell. Questioning where you had gotten such a nice smelling body wash— the teased you about it. Touching you far more often than you were used to. But something was odd— it was a nagging feeling. One that had left you constantly on edge. Your teammates however seemed to know something—Staring you down as if you were nothing but a piece of meat to them. They’re gazes gave you a shiver, tail curling inward as you tried to appear smaller to them.

They began acting oddly— Lyle was someone you often went to the gym with. He would be there spotting you when you would bench press. But his actions were questionable, groping your flesh and even pressing his hips against yours. At one point you even caught him sniffing one of your borrowed shirts, humping a pillow like an animal in heat. Unbeknownst to you the others seethed in jealousy. They wanted nothing more but to be near you, to have your eyes only on them. Their past feelings only amplified their primal instinct. They wanted a taste of you.

Z-Dog was passive aggressive with her courting. Flirting coyly and purring, she would take advantage of your confusion. Asking for a partner to stretch with, pressing her clothed cunt against your hips, exaggerating her groans. She was temptress, fingers skimming over your abdomen, trailing lower as she pressed her chest towards you. She knew exactly what she wanted and knew how to get it.

The other recoms had taken this as an act of war, each whisking you away from the other. At one point you were often stuck in quarreling fights, ears flattening against your skull as your comrades hissed at each other. It took a while for everyone to reach a compromise. It became overwhelming at one point, there wasn’t a moment someone didn’t have their hands on you. Becoming rather aggressive and demanding more from you.

Quaritch was surprisingly needy, often commanding you to be near him. Even going as far as using his rank to get what he wanted from you. He was curious on how the na’vi mated officially and was quite persistent on the topic. When he caught wind of the information he couldn’t help but dream of having such a life with you. One way or another he had used his rank over you. Extending out his braid towards you, gesturing for you to follow his lead. Your refusal at first was understandable but he kept pushing.

At one point Quaritch decided to take things onto his own hands. He cornered you in an isolated corridor, offering an ultimatum. You can either accept his offer and be kind about this experience he wants to share with you or he’ll force the bond. It wasn’t hard to choose the safest option. Sean was one of the many who became increasingly aggressive, hissing at others when his time with you was interrupted. He would tug on your braid enacting painful hisses from you. Deep down he enjoyed causing such a painful reaction. Even going as far as dragging his canines down your throat, nipping and biting the skin.

Authors note: Other recoms will be mentioned during part two

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tiredwitchplant · 8 months

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Everything You Need to Know About Crystals: Lapis Lazuli

Lapis Lazuli (The Sacred Stone of Wisdom and Power)

Color: Deep blue flecked with gold

Rarity: Easy to obtain, can be expensive for high quality

Hardiness: 5.5

Type: Isometric/ Metamorphic

Chakra Association: Throat, Brow, Crown

Angels: Sahaqiel

Deities: Nuit, Venus, Isis, Sin

Astrological Signs: Sagittarius, Capricorn

Element: Water, Air

Planet: Venus

Origin: Afghanistan, India, Myanmar, Pakistan, Russia, USA, Italy, Egypt, Middle East, Chile

Powers: Amplification of Power, Reverse Baneful Magic, Connection to the Spirit World, Protection, Wisdom, Mental and Spiritual Blockage

Crystals It Works Well With: Phantom quartz and Purple Tourmaline

How It is Created: Lapis lazuli is a complex mineral made up of lazurite, pyrite, and calcite. The lazurite gives it its deep blue color (along with the sulfur that’s in its matrix), the pyrite gives it its golden veins, and the calcite gives it its white specks.

History: The name comes from the Latin word lapis, meaning stone, and the word lazuli which means blue. It was first mined in Afghanistan but it has existed even before then. The Egyptians used lapis lazuli in protective amulets and other jewelry. It was used famously by Egyptian nobility, even its powdered form being used as eyeshadow. Lapis lazuli is said to produce power and wisdom and is associated with the Egyptian goddesses, Isis and Nuit. Romans would ingest the powder in food and drinks as an aphrodisiac and it was also used as an antidote for poisons. It is said that the ring the angel gave King Solomon to control his demon legion of workers was made of lapis lazuli.

What It Can Do:

Open the third eye and balance the throat chakra

Stimulates enlightenment and enhances dream work and psychic abilities

Facilitates spiritual journeys and stimulates personal and spiritual power

Releases stress, bringing deep peace

Protective stone that contacts spirit guardians

Recognizes psychic attacks, blocks them, and return the energy back to the source

Teaches the power of the spoken word and can reverse curses

Alleviates pain, especially with migraines

Overcomes depression, benefits the respiratory and nervous systems, cleanse organs and the immune system

Harmonizes the physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual levels such as: lack of purpose, disease, and depression

Encourages taking charge in your life

Can amplify powerful thoughts and stimulate higher faculties of one’s mind

Bonds relationships in love, friendship and aid in expressing feelings

How to Get the Best Out Of: With a lot of these visionary stones, I am always going to recommend a bracelet or necklace. Anything that is close to the bloodstream or heart will help the power of the stone connect to you best with these types of stones.

How to Cleanse and Charge: Using incenses or a singing bowl to cleanse lapis lazuli. Lay it on a clear quartz disc or bowl over night under the moon to recharge it. Do not put under the sunlight. It will discolor the stone. (I made this mistake and was heavily scolded by Isis afterwards)

Crystal Grid:

Healthy Body (Sacred Geometry: Metatron’s Cube or Sri Yantra)

Mantra “I trust my body’s ability to heal itself”

Center stone: Quartz sphere

Secondary Stones: Bloodstone, Carnelian, Amethyst, Lapis Lazuli, Quartz

Moon Phase: Dark Moon

Day: Saturday

Sources

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thejournallo · 5 months

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Explain the basic: Crystals

Check out Part 1, which explains how to use the things down below.

Agate

Color: Variety of colorful layers Element: Fire Properties: Calming anxiety, quieting your mind, grounding, connecting with nature, luck, prosperity, getting through tough times, comfort, healing from grief, strength, intelligence, communicating well, boosting confidence, protection

Amazonite

Color: Light green, bluish green Element: Earth Properties: Spirit work, intuition, necromancy, calming anxiety and grounding, quelling fear, communicating clearly, leadership, building trust, inspiring self and others, success and luck, supportive strength, creative ideas, focusing on the end goal, cultivating joy.

Amber

By scientific standards, amber is neither a stone nor a crystal, but it nevertheless has a lot of power. It is beneficial to have nearby as it has the ability to transform negative energy into positive energy. It also possesses energy, which you may observe by rubbing amber across a piece of fabric or carpet to observe the static electricity that results.

Color: Translucent gold Element: Earth Properties: Convert negative energy into positive energy, emptying mind, clarity, releasing stored emotions from your psyche, healing negative emotional wounds, protection, putting mind and spirit at peace.

Amethyst

a revered crystal for centuries, is valued for its healing and protective properties. Its vibrant purple hue signifies its abilities to cleanse spaces, protect against negativity, and promote spiritual well-being. It offers comfort and relief by calming the mind, moderating emotions, and reducing anxiety. Amethyst also aids in improving sleep, addressing subconscious issues, enhancing intuition, and fostering spiritual connections.

Color: Purple Element: Water Properties: Healing, cleansing powers, protection, healing whole self, spiritual intuition, stress relief, calming, dampen mood swings, end nightmares, help insomnia, dream work, psychic skills, spiritual awareness, sobriety, ending and healing addiction, self discipline, inner strength, peace.

Aquamarine

Color: Turquoise, teal Element: Water Properties: Determination, fearlessness, expressing yourself, cleansing and purification, tapping into your intuition and psychic abilities.

Aventurine

Color: Variety but often green Element: Air Properties: Creativity, seeing new opportunities, free the mind to accept success, wealth and prosperity, confidence and self power, decisive action.

Azurite

Color: Deep blue Element: Water Properties: Healing of all forms, divination and foresight, dreamwork, focus and concentration, personal and spiritual metamorphosis.

Beryl

Color: Often green or light blue Element: Water Properties: Protection and healing, amplify and tune into energy, and psychic intuition.

Bloodstone

Color: Spotted green and red Element: Fire Properties: Physical health and recovery, healing, confidence in one’s abilities, tenacity, toughness, triumph.

Blue Kyanite

Color: Blue with white layers Element: Water Properties: Balancing energies, new beginnings, soul searching, finding new truths, facing change boldly, guidance in new situations, course corrections.

Calcite

Color: Typically white or yellow Element: Fire Properties: Grounding and centering, cleansing, purifying, mental peace and calm, clear mind.

Carnelian

Color: Orange-red Element: Fire Properties: Manifesting thoughts and ideas into actions and reality, achieving goals, feeling in control, productivity, building self esteem, courage, and confidence, igniting and following passions, eliminating procrastination, building motivation.

Chrysocolla

Color: Turquoise, teal Element: Water Properties: Wisdom, depth of knowledge, balancing mind and emotions, calming oneself, inner peace.

Chrysoprase

Color: Green Element: Earth Properties: Effective communication, working in groups, making your ideas heard, mental influence, poise, articulation.

Citrine

Color: Yellow, orange Element: Fire Properties: Positive energies, calming environment at home, facilitating communication, general wellness and well being, joy, protective powers, provides balance.

Diamond

Color: Clear Element: Fire Properties: As the Earth’s hardest substance it gives extreme permanence and durability, diligence, resilience, purification, and personal and spiritual growth.

Emerald

Color: Green Element: Earth Properties: Material success, prosperity, career accomplishment, protection, and self awareness.

Fluorite

Color: Variety of colors Element: Earth Properties: Healing in all forms– physical, mental, emotional, spiritual, energetic.

Garnet

Color: Red, pink Element: Fire Properties: Protection, returns negative energies back to sender, builds desire and passion, creativity and imagination, positive attitude and improve outlook, prime you for success, bring love and strength to others.

Hematite

Hematite, a magnetic material found in the Earth, is prized for its protective and grounding attributes. It enhances mental clarity, memory, and focus while absorbing negativity and stress. It aids in boosting self-esteem, confidence, and breaking bad habits. Hematite's reflective nature supports divination practices like scrying and is useful in attracting positive energies in spellwork

Color: Black, grey, brown Element: Earth Properties: Protection, grounding, think clearly, memory improvement, focus, gain perspective, reduce anxiety, absorb negativity, soothe stress, build self esteem, increase confidence, boost willpower, end addictions, scrying, magnetic properties.

Jade

Color: Green Element: Earth Properties: Self improvement, self love and peace with oneself, emotional health and balance, happiness.

Jasper

Color: Yellow, brown Element: Earth Properties: Flexibility, open mind, career success, coordination, dedication, determination, relentlessness, industriousness, grounding, luck, and balance.

Jet

Color: Black Element: Water Properties: Overcoming grief, healing after death of a loved one, protection, absorbing negativity, grounding, mental and emotional well being, general healing.

Kunzite

Color: Pink, purple Element: Earth Properties: Grounding and balance, relaxation and calm, stress relief, introspection and inner growth, peace and harmony.

Lapis Lazuli

Lapis Lazuli is an ancient and sacred stone that’s been used for its healing and clarity properties for many years. It’s a powerful stone to heal emotional wounds. It’s often used in meditation to promote focus and mental purity.

Color: Blue with white or yellow stripes Element: Water Properties: Eye-opening stone, discover truth, wisdom and intuition, enlightenment and spiritual awakening, find your calling, insight, psychic intuition and prophecy, connecting with the spirit world, focus and concentration, healing emotional wounds.

Lepidolite

Color: Variety but pink is common Element: Water Properties: Emotional balance, mood regulation, calming anxiety, stress, and other negative emotions, bringing about inner peace, ending nightmares, harmonious spirituality.

Lodestone

Lodestone, a magnetic crystal with unique properties, serves as a bridge between stone and metal. Its natural magnetism provides potent healing for the body and is commonly worn for protection and luck attraction. Creating an oil from lodestone enhances its luck-attracting properties, but to maintain its energy, regular feeding, often with the oil alongside other magnetic materials, is necessary.

Color: Black, grey, brown Element: Water Properties: Healing rituals, physical health, energy and endurance, circulation and immune system, pain reduction, good luck amulet, grounding, good luck oil, protection from negativity and dark magick, dampening negative emotions, attracting wealth, prosperity, and luck.

Malachite

Color: Green Element: Earth Properties: Facilitate life changes, rebirth and new beginnings, adventure, personal success, wealth and prosperity.

Moldavite

Color: Green, blue Element: Air Properties: Intuition and psychic abilities, subconscious awareness, wisdom and insight, balance, consecration and blessings.

Moonstone

Color: Variety Element: Water Properties: Emotional connection, forming deep relationships, connection with nature and the cycle of life, listening to the heart, empathy and compassion, heal emotional trauma, kindness, protection from dark magick and negative energies, moon magick, clairvoyance, dreamwork, lucid dreaming, and mystery.

Moss Agate

Color: White, green, black Element: Earth Properties: Physical prowess, strength, victory, bravery, energy, endurance, and stamina, eliminate negative emotions, luck.

Obsidian

Color: Black Element: Fire Properties: Protection from negative energies, grounding.

Onyx

Color: Black Element: Fire Properties: Protection against dark magick, seances, contacting the spirit world and departed loved ones, guards against possessions.

Opal

Color: Variety Element: Air Properties: Can be difficult to use, each color has different properties, strong stone, intensifies emotions, increases sensitivities and consciousness, psychic awareness.

Peridot

Color: Green, blue Element: Earth Properties: Prosperity, wealth and success, attract luck, abundance, growth and forgiveness, improving your life.

Pyrite

Color: Gold Element: Fire Properties: Luck, success, attracting prosperity and wealth, positivity and optimism, determination and strength to follow passions and achieve goals.

Quartz

Clear quartz stands out as the ideal first crystal for magical work, given its unparalleled versatility. Acting as a substitute for different crystals, it's easily accessible and affordable due to its abundance. Its amplifying, purifying, and directing abilities with positive energies make it excellent for protective spellwork and countering negative forces. Moreover, it aids in healing, clarity, focus, and spiritual development, making it a perfect starting crystal for beginners

Color: Clear Element: Air Properties: All-purpose, versatile, substitute for other crystals, energy pathways, positive energy, direct and strengthen energy, purification, protection, healing, clarification, focus, procrastination, spiritual growth.

Red Jasper

Color: Red Element: Fire Properties: Emotional protection, emotional distance, thinking rationally and logically, letting go of worries, lessen anxiety, dispel negative energies, optimism, stability and security, grounding, strength, defense against dark magick.

Rhodochrosite

Color: Pink, rose Element: Fire Properties: Sexual passions, romantic exploits, sexual power and adventure, attracting love, fertility, forming new relationships and friendships, compassion and empathy for others.

Rhodonite

Color: Pink, rose Element: Fire Properties: Healing especially emotional healing, grief, healing from loss or death, forgiveness, reconciling old relationships, mending current relationships, attracting love, making yourself a better person for others.

Rose Quartz

Rose quartz, known for its loving energy, covers multiple facets of love—romantic, friendship, caregiving, and self-love. Its use in spells for romance, friendship mending, and healing heartbreak is notable. This crystal aids in opening the heart, fostering unconditional love, and improving self-relationship by enhancing forgiveness, trust, acceptance, and self-worth. Beyond love, it offers healing and protective properties, shielding from negativity, reducing anxiety, and providing comfort and peace.

Color: Pink, rose Element: Water Properties: Romance, friendship, unconditional love, love spells, heartbreak, open heart, cleanse spirit, forgiving and trusting yourself, healing, protection, peace.

Ruby

Color: Red Element: Fire Properties: Sexuality and desire, finding love, virility, life passion, happiness, intuition and clairvoyance, empathy and improving relationships, emotional health.

Sapphire

Color: Variety but often deep blue Element: Water Properties: Psychic abilities, foresight and visions, luck, dreamwork, spiritual connection, creativity and inspiration, subconscious awareness, monetary goals, protection and protective magick.

Selenite

Selenite, a powerful crystal, excels in providing clarity, offering insights into the bigger picture when one feels overwhelmed by details. Its link between the physical and spirit worlds makes it invaluable for meditation and spiritual work. In dream exploration, especially when combined with amethyst, it aids in preventing nightmares, improving sleep, and enhancing dream awareness for lucid dreaming and astral projection. This crystal fosters tranquility, honesty, and virtue by cleansing negativity and elevating personal vibrations, but caution is advised as it should not be exposed to water.

Color: Often milky white Element: Water Properties: Clarity, see big picture, spirit guidance, insight, awareness, spirit work, dream work, stop bad dreams, help insomnia, lucid dreaming, astral projection, peace, calm, truthfulness, virtue, cleansing negativity.

Serpentine

Color: Green, brown Element: Fire Properties: Positivity, bright spirit, generosity, creativity, peace and calm, joy and happiness, consecration and blessings.

moky Quartz

Color: Grey Element: Earth Properties: Positivity and optimism, overcoming fear, overcoming obstacles, intuition and subconscious knowledge, grounding and centering.

Sodalite

Sodalite is a companion stone to lapis lazuli. They have similar properties, and if you require lapis lazuli, you can substitute in sodalite.

Color: Royal blue Element: Air, water Properties: Psychic intellect, insight and intuition, clairvoyance, rational and logical thought, wisdom, self awareness, clearing the mind of distractions, self control and mental discipline, working in groups, communicating your thoughts to others, two-way communication, improving communication in a relationship.

Sunstone

Color: Variety but often pink or peach Element: Fire Properties: Taking action, following passion, conviction, persistence, embracing fear, sexuality, toughness, sun magick, protection and healing.

Tiger’s Eye

Color: Brown striped Element: Fire Properties: Truth seeking, perceive reality, uncover devious or fraudulent intentions, clarity of the mind, see past illusions and deceptions, integrity and honor, loyalty and courage, and travel protection.

Topaz

Color: Variety but often blue or orange Element: Fire Properties: Avoid scarcity mindset, abundance, winning, success, desire and attractiveness, receptive to love, friendship and affection, intelligence and wisdom, flexibility, mental strength, protection and healing.

Tourmaline

Color: Variety but often pink or green Element: Earth Properties: Avoiding scarcity mindset, abundance, prosperity, believing in yourself, cleansing and protection, clearing the mind, repel negative energies, protect from harm, protect emotions, peace and calm, quell worry and self doubt, reduce stress.

Turquoise

Turquoise, known for its vibrant and protective qualities, adeptly neutralizes negativity and aligns with personal energy. It serves as a potent defense against negativity during social interactions and possesses healing attributes, radiating positivity, joy, peace, and self-love. Whether for grounding, defensive magic, or as a supportive aid in challenging circumstances, turquoise proves to be an invaluable companion.

Color: Bright blue-green Element: Water Properties: Protection, subdue negativity, works with your personal energy, positivity, joy, happiness, grounding, defensive magick, luck and prosperity, love and attraction, empathy and compassion.

Unakite

Color: Mottled green, orange, and other colors Element: Earth Properties: Connecting to nature, empathy with all living beings, animal magick, grounding, natural guidance, peace for all.

Zircon

Color: Variety Element: Fire Properties: Avoiding scarcity mindset, abundance, success, wealth, protection, cleansing and purification, balance and harmony, peace, healing and personal growth, receptive to love, joy.

As always, I will love to hear your thoughts! and if you have any questions, I will be more than happy to answer them! If you liked it, leave a comment or reblog (that is always appreciated!). if you are intrested in more method check the masterlist!

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meyousing · 1 year

Text

𝙸𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚒, 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚋

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: you’re quite far under illumi’s control, unbeknownst to yourself. it isn’t until you hear some particular words that you begin to question your reality.

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: part two to subservient! sfw, major manipulation and gaslighting, light mentions of blood.

part 3 (final) is also here!

It was your greatest joy to know that you were being a good wife to your husband. Illumi was perfect, utterly so. You thrived to be as perfect of a partner as he was, you felt indebted to him just for his being so lovely. The way he protected you, provided for you, and would anticipate the extension of your family in the future, what more could you ask for? You were truly living the dream.

As far as you could tell, you always felt this way. There was one night where these emotions were amplified, when you two slept together with Illumi’s implication of trying for a baby, and that experience only doubled the already abundant love you felt for him. Your first attempt at conception was unsuccessful, yet in spite of that you kept your hopes up. The prospect of having Illumi’s child was so domestic, you anticipated going through all of the highs and lows of parenthood, training your child to become the ideal Zoldyck assassin, with your perfect husband at your side as you did.

On the topic of domesticity; you used to dread the family dinners, cowering away from the intense eyes of the other assassins and pretending to enjoy the food in front of you, when your appetite was mostly nonexistent. Now, you would eagerly listen in on their daily reports, politely savouring your meal as you did. Kikyo would still send you resentful stares every now and then, but it didn’t bother you anymore. Your only concerns were about Illumi now, with what he planned for you to do every day and night, ensuring that you took care of yourself to ensure that your body was in the right condition to bear a child. How thoughtful of him, truly! Everything was just so, so perfect.

Yet, unless under false pretences, perfection is not genuinely attainable, is it? Your first suspicion arose when Illumi muttered something to himself a few nights back.

Laying at your side in bed, Illumi had bid you goodnight and turned away to fall asleep, but your hand on his shoulder stopped that. You were still sitting up, ignoring the voice in your head telling you that it was time to lay down now. In a moment, you told it.

“Sorry, I just wanted to talk about one last thing before I forget.” you spoke sheepishly, instantly retracting your hand when his eyes met yours in the darkness; still so visible despite the minimal lighting that only came from the dimly moonlit window.

“Yes?”

You subconsciously began to fiddle with your fingers, tentatively slouching over and leaning your weight to one side as you avoided eye contact. Somehow, you knew that asking about this would only disappoint you, as if it were forbidden subject matter, or to a lesser extent; plainly just meant not to be talked about. You couldn’t stop yourself from asking anyway.

“I know that you want me to stay away from anything involving…the more intensive work that you do, like training and stuff, but… do you have any idea of when I can start?” Your voice got quieter and more slurred the longer that you spoke, your apprehension clear as day.

Illumi’s lack of visible reaction prompted you to keep speaking though, as if now was the only time that you’d be able to, before some unknown source hushed you for good. It felt odd that you were thinking that way, but you couldn’t help it.

“I just don’t want to fall behind, I think it would be a little illogical if I’m to help our child become an assassin when I don’t even know the first thing about it. You can see why I would think that, right?”

A beat of uncomfortable silence passed, but was pacified rather quickly.

“No, I don’t see why you are thinking that.”

He seemed to have given almost no thought to your inquiry. That hurt a bit, but was overridden by confusion. Why wouldn’t he want you to start training? Surely you were making sense here… how could you help your child become an assassin when you didn’t even know the first thing about it?

He turned away then, mumbling something beneath his breath that you almost missed, had you not been extra attentive right now considering the weight of what you just dared to wonder.

“She should’ve stopped asking about that by now.”

The next morning, before leaving for his job of the day, Illumi had woken you up while seated at the edge of your bed, his hand resting on your blanketed thigh.

“Do you recall what you asked me last night, before we slept?”

“I asked you something?” you rubbed the fatigue from your eyes, trying to remember what it could have been that you questioned him about. “We just went to bed right away, didn’t we?” that was what happened from what you were able to recollect. You entered the room together after dinner, then went to bed right away, full and satiated from the lovely meal.

“Yes, that’s exactly right.” He stood up, not sparing you another glance while casually brushing off his shoulder as he headed for the door in record time.

“Have a good day!” you called out, tiredness still evident in your voice, the well wish sounding weak as a result. He didn’t respond, but you didn’t mind that as you turned back over to sleep in for a bit longer, your eyes closing at the same time as the bedroom door.

Your second suspicion came about at the family dinner that same day.

You gave a respectful smile to Silva, him being the last person at the table to share his job report for today. You bit down on a carrot and courteously covered your mouth with a napkin as you chewed, listening to how enthused he sounded to announce that his target had been successfully eliminated, as always. He finished speaking after that and began eating his own food, making you divert your attention back to your plate. That is, until the sound of someone clearing their throat made your ears perk up.

“So, is this another day of no training for you, Y/N?” Kikyo’s chin rested atop her clasped hands, her elbows propped on the table in an odd show, considering how she was usually much more conscious of her table manners. This was something she had even corrected you on when you first arrived here, and you abided by it ever since, due to her strict tone and unforgiving stare each time you made the same mistake.

“Uhm,” you coughed lightly, shooting her an apologetic glance due to your own ill manners. “Illumi has told me that I don’t need to train just yet, we’re looking to keep my physical exertion light in preparation for–”

You felt a scintilla in your mind, a sensation that told you not to finish that sentence.

“Illumi should know that isn’t what we want.” She tilted her head slightly in his direction, her tone of voice a bit condescending to make up for her lack of visible expression, which was surely on the verge of scowling. Illumi barely paid her any mind, dabbing a napkin at the corner of his mouth.

“This topic only concerns myself and my wife.” He kept his gaze on his plate, placing his utensils on it alongside his napkin as he seemed to be finished with them.

“I trained rather heavily while I was pregnant. I did the most when I was carrying you, Illumi. That could be part of why you’re such a strong assassin now.”

Illumi continued to act passive. To you, Kikyo’s words came across as offensive and discrediting of Illumi’s own training, though he very well could not have been acting and genuinely felt passive towards her words, since it did not seem that he would be changing his mind about what you were to do any time soon. It was hard to tell at times with someone so stoic.

You, on the other hand, felt your eyes widen in concern. How did she know what you two had been planning? You hadn’t said anything, perhaps it was just motherly intuition?

“In that case, maybe it’s time for Y/N to start, don’t you think?” You watched as her fingers bent and dug into the skin of her hands, indicating a rather harsh grip that she must have been exerting her annoyance into. You winced subconsciously from the sight, worried about what you may have done wrong in a situation that you did not have much control over (your mere existence just seemed to bother Kikyo either way). Illumi may have claimed that this topic only concerned the two of you, but he tended to be the only one making any final decisions, your input being long forgotten once his mind was made.

“No, we’ll be doing things our own way. Y/N is her own person, I’ve planned for things to be done in a way that would be best suited for her, not you.”

You felt your lips twitch upward at his words, bashful at his defence of your character and his typical attentiveness. He is so perfect, you thought to yourself, watching Kikyo’s own lips curl into a snarl.

Illumi excused both him and yourself from the table after this, and you followed his lead rather hastily as he stood and exited the dining room, striding into the hall while ignoring everyone else’s watchful eyes. As per your routine, you knew that this was the walk to your bedroom to retire for the night. You trailed behind him, and on this walk, you reflected upon everything that had just been discussed.

Kikyo was usually irked by you, but the more you contemplated it, you believed that her words tonight did not carry any malice. Well, maybe some attitude, but that was something you had grown used to; the intentions behind what she said came off as mostly curious, regardless of the snark.

Kikyo would not be curious without valid reason. Was your lack of training something that had concerned her for a while now? She had not said anything about it until tonight, you almost forgot about the other times she asked previously, had this not served as a sudden reminder. It was odd that you forgot, but now that you remembered, you began to wonder the same thing as her; should you be starting your training now? If she trained while pregnant, surely you could begin now while not even being anywhere near that stage just yet?

You couldn’t help but tug at Illumi’s sleeve diffidently, not waiting for any form of acknowledgement before sharing your piece.

“Illumi, are you positively certain that I shouldn’t be doing some kind of training by now? If Kikyo thinks that I should be…” you trailed off nervously, much too anxious to speak your next words given his earlier reaction to any kind of defiance. “And there’s… there’s something in me that’s telling me I should be too.”

“It should be telling you not to.” He stopped walking. You slowed your pace, until you stopped about a foot behind him seconds after.

“...What?”

“Your incessant questions about training were becoming tiring, Y/N. My patience was starting to wane the more that you asked, when I already told you that you need only to worry about staying healthy for a pregnancy as of now.” He turned to face you as he spoke, his eyes hooded and low with ire. You were caught off guard, his tone seemed slightly less levelled than normal, which was startling despite the miniscule difference.

“Truthfully, I’m perplexed by how you have managed to continue asking me about this every day since I tried putting a stop to it.” His fingers found his chin in contemplation as he stared away from you and into the distance of the long hall. “How do you have such resistance?”

You could tell that this was not exactly a question that you were meant to answer; moreso something that he was asking himself. It wasn’t like he was trying, but nothing he said remedied your confusion after his second to last statement.

“What do you mean you tried putting a stop to it?”

He didn’t react to you, you could tell that he had likely tuned you out even as he looked back once more with the same look of pique on his face, the hand on his chin falling back to his side promptly.

“It’s as if the needle has only caused more of a hindrance.”

The needle? What, needle as in his nen ability? The one that he used to control others–

Your blood ran cold. You could almost feel it draining from your face, his indirect assertion sending chills down your spine. He wouldn’t do that to you, would he?

He approached you suddenly, and you flinched back given the information you just heard and were now heavily struggling to process. He didn’t allow you to move far, his hands bracing your shoulders with a grip strong enough to keep you grounded in your spot, though your fear-induced paralysis was already doing a sufficient job of that. His hair brushed over your cheek when he leaned toward your ear, one of his hands moving to the top of your head as his lips tickled the shell of your ear.

“We are going to start over. Perhaps this intermission will serve as a reminder to the real you the next time you try making any demands.”

His fingers crimped into your scalp as he tightened his hold, making you grimace and pull back into yourself as best you could, like that would provide some sort of escape from his suddenly very dark and intimidating aura. An aura that once seemed so loving, so devoted, so... perfect.

“Unless you want this to happen again, prove to me that you have learned your lesson, starting tonight.”

You wished to respond, to apologize for angering him with your interrogations and insist that you would never do it again so he would let go of you, but any thoughts were cut short by an excruciating throbbing that began to resonate at the crown of your head. So excruciating, that you could barely process anything else before your vision instantly cut to black.

Illumi caught your limp body once you collapsed into him, peeking over your shoulder and looking down to the bloodied needle resting in his palm. This case was certainly peculiar, you were the only person who had been able to challenge his control thus far. He examined the needle for a moment longer before hoisting you into his arms with one under your knees, the other supporting your back as he resumed your trek back to the bedroom. Even in his vexation, Illumi couldn’t help but feel a tinge of anticipation upon this revelation; such a promising sign for your future with the family, and as his wife. He knew that he made the right decision when he picked you, you were just so perfect for him.

#✧meyou #✧musinghxhmasterlist #illumi #yandere illumi #illumi x reader #illumi zoldyck x reader #illumi zoldyck #hxh #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh illumi #hunter x hunter x reader #illumi x y/n #illumi x you

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