#ask lyssa anything | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lyssaterald · 24 days

Text

Lesson 1-2: The Seven Brothers

Content Warning: General spoilers for the main story. Minors and ageless accounts do not interact! First person writing, named character, and slight mentions of character’s past and history which are not expanded on as they are not important to this chapter. Weirdly, I switch between past and present tense. Sorry, not sorry. Unbeta read.

Started as taking the lessons and translating them with Lyssa's perspective. Devolved into something else, lol. This is just more for fun now.

--------

Hitting the end button, I gave the device a dubious look and then glanced up at Lucifer. He was watching me with a slight smile quirking his lips. "Sounds like you had a nice chat," he tells me and I have to laugh at that.

"Yeah. He seems real reliable," I retort sarcastically, forgetting for a second my situation. This isn't home and I'm not surrounded by people that will back me.

The slight smile turns into a frown. "You really think so?" he asks, tone edging towards biting.

Oh. Sore point? Maybe don't poke at the family thing right now, got it. He and I stare at each other for a moment before I drop my gaze from his. I've played enough of these dominance games back home to know them for what they are. My survival here will likely rest upon the shoulders of Lucifer and his brothers if this short conversation is anything to go by. Refusing to play their games will have to work for now.

It's Diavolo that breaks the odd silence that seems to have stretched between Lucifer and I. "Well, we can't really expect you to understand everything right now. After all, you were just suddenly brought to a strange land and told that an unfamiliar face would be taking care of you," he says and I glance over to meet his concerned, golden gaze for a moment. "I'm sure you feel more than a little anxious. However, you may rest assured that Mammon isn't the only one that will help you out." He chuckles at my expression and looks at Lucifer and says, "Now, we still need to get our new friend introduced to your brothers. And it's probably better that you do that instead of me, wouldn't you say?"

Lucifer almost seems to droop at the mention of that task. "Yes, as much as I dread the idea of doing so, you are right," he sighs.

Another male just behind them scoffs and draws our attention to him. Blonde, delicate features, slim, build, uniform similar to Lucifer's, and eyes the color of liquid honey. I squint at him and he flashes me a smile. There's something...something about him that catches the eye. "Oh, come now," he pouts at Lucifer. "Really? You should be honored that you get to introduce such a sweet and charming little brother like me!"

Lucifer ignores this and waves a hand at the petite blond. "This one here is Asmodeous. He's the fifth eldest and the Avatar of Lust."

"Wh.. I can't believe you just totally ignored what I said!" Asmodeous says indignantly, hands on his hips as he glares at his eldest brother. "And not only that, you referred to me as this one. Rude!"

It's hard not to smile a little at their interactions. There is something clearly deeper than crazy cultists pulling a ruse going on here. Noting this, I sigh and glance at the other male who is in attendance with us as Asmodeous continues to pester Lucifer about something. His gaze is sea blue with stronger features that Asmodeous's, another clean cut uniform, a medium build, and an amused look directed at me. There's something in his body language, the coiled way he moves, that translates something familiar to me.

The hand on his hip, the slightly hurt expression, his tone all telegraph the right correct emotion and yet I don't buy it. His body language is too...sharp, too controlled for him to be truly hurt by Lucifer's dismissal of his brother's presence. Lucifer catches my gaze and smirks faintly at my expression, which I quickly school into indifference.

"That one there is Satan, the fourth eldest. At first glance, he may seem to be a responsible looking demon with a good head on his shoulders, but looks can be deceiving. He is the Avatar of Wrath," Lucifer tells me.

A little sound escapes me as I realize what I'm seeing in him. Wrath. Ok, that makes more sense of what is contrasting in his gestures. It's a subtle thing that can't really be deciphered unless...

He's suddenly in my space, his face inches from mine. His smile is sharp, his blue eyes like chips of glass. "Careful, little human, staring like that might give the wrong impression."

I chuckle at the threat I read in his body and give him a matching smile, taking a small step forward so that our breath almost mingles between us. "Nice to meet you, Satan," I murmur, keeping our eyes locked.

A moment passes and then two and he relaxes, chuckling to himself and shaking his head. "Nice to meet you, Lyssa," he returns before giving his brothers a sidelong look. "Don't take Lucifer too seriously, though. He likes to speak ill of his brothers, but he is the Avatar of Pride, after all." Lucifer just sighed at the little display between us and I couldn't help the small smile. "Are you done?" he asked no one in particular and then gestured towards the last person in the room, who was giving us all a very grumpy look. "The one there with the very grumpy look on his face is Beelzebub, the sixth oldest."

"Lucifer, I'm hungry," the tall, broad shouldered red head complained.

Lucifer shot the big demon a quelling and said, "That's too bad. Now behave yourself."

Beelzebub lost the grumpy look and almost looked like a puppy that had been kicked. His stomach audibly rumbled in a way that made me wince in sympathy.

"I'm Beelzebub, Avatar of Gluttony."

"So," Lucifer said. "There are seven of us brothers in all and-" putting his hand on his stomach, he continued, "I am the eldest. Mammon, the second oldest, will be here soon. My other brothers aren't here at the moment, but...well, we can get to them later. All in good time." His expression shifted slightly. "During your time in the Devildom, the seven brothers will lend you their strength and to keep you safe, you are to stay with us at the House of Lamentation."

I stared at him, taking in the way he moved and assessing how far to trust his words. With crumbling certainty, it set in that this wasn't some sort of weird joke. My siblings hadn't managed to find a new way to prank me and I was very much doubting that they were weird cultists. These people had found a way around some very ancient and powerful wards and summoned me here for their odd little experiment.

#obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #afab reader #diavolo

7 notes · View notes

lyssak09 · 1 year

Note

Do you know hooked on you dbd if yes can you do a trapper and huntress ( as a couple) x 12 year old being treated as a toddler

Of course! My sister was obsessed with the game for weeks.

So, the couple probably met you on their honeymoon at the resort. Your parents had let you run around the resort while they enjoyed their vacation

Huntress saw you messing around in the water and immediately felt mama bear over you.

She didn't want to scare you so she hummed as she strolled towards you. You were so cute and sweet.

Of course you were taught stranger danger and didn’t want her getting too close to you, but she seemed really kind and didn’t seem like she wanted to hurt you.

Of course she didn’t want to hurt you, but she also didn’t want anyone else hurting you either.

She ended up convincing you to follow her after a while of talking and getting to know each other.

You didn’t know a lot about her, since she was the one asking all the questions, but you didn’t really think much of it, she was nice and wasn’t attempting to hurt you.

She ended up bringing you towards a wooden table, which had an extremely buff man with an extremely tight swimsuit.

They both were wearing masks.

Anna’s being a bunny, and the man’s being just a wooden looking face.

It was a little awkward as they were talking, since the man didn’t seem very nice, but Anna was.

After a bit of talking, the man and Anna both took you out to the water to play.

Why did she take you away from the water?

Who knows the real reason.

She might of thought you were lost

Or you were going out too deep

Either way, she was now by your side when you guys got into the water again.

The man went out deeper than you and Anna, but he did come back at some point, holding sparkly shells from the deeper parts of the water.

Anna was extremely happy, looking at the shell sparkle and shine

The man ended up giving one to you too, yours was a lot less shiny, but had an extremely intercite design on it.

The man introduced himself to you, since Anna had completely forgotten to.

Evan didn’t say anything else to you, but you still thanked him as he waded off to the other side of Anna, probably not wanting to talk to someone he didn’t know.

Anna ended up wrestling, well, more like fighting, Evan into the water to try and dunk his head under, though they both ended up going underwater, which got both of their masks soaked.

Anna was really happy and extremely playful, at one point dunking you under the water as well, though not for long.

She barely dunked you under, and then instantly brought you back up.

At one point, Evan brought out little toys to play with, one was even a little rubber duck in a boat.

Sis's sweet, non-creepy ending

It gets to the point where your parents are about to leave and go home. When you try to say goodbye to the couple, everything goes to hell.

They get all panicky and Anna just grabs you in a bear hug, mumbles some words about hopefully seeing you again soon.

Evan isn’t one for physical affection, you could just tell, but even he pulled you into a bear hug.

Unbeknownst to you, you had them tied around your finger. Even if they didn’t know you very long, they loved you more than anyone you had ever met, besides your parents of course.

Your parents saw how much they loved you, and saw this as an opportunity to maybe help you get some new people in your life.

Evan and your mother both exchanged phone numbers, Anna isn’t allowed to be trusted with a phone, and she expressed a great amount of gratitude towards your parents.

Now that you were able to contact them, maybe you guys could come visit every once and a while.

Who knows, maybe you guys lived close enough that you could spend weekends with them.

Evan and your parents both knew that the speculation would be too good to be true, but the best part about speculations was the fact that they could always come true.

And maybe, this once was about to.

Lyssa's creepy platonic ending

When it was time for you and your parents to leave Anna and Evan weren't having it.

Sooo, they casually took your documents from your parents, drugged you, kidnapped you, and ended their honeymoon early.

You sorta woke up on the plane. But you quickly fell back asleep.

You eventually woke up swaddled like a baby in a giant baby crib. Like huge. You and Anna could fit in it. And you did.

They treated you like a baby. Well, Anna did. Evan treated you like a toddler, so there's that I guess.

Evan will let you feed yourself and walk around a bit. While Anna has to feed you, carry you everywhere, and just treat you like a baby. That's what you are to her. Her baby.

So I personally think She would fake photos of your life. Like making you and Evan pose in cheesy family photos. Like him holding you or faking your 1st birthday. Things like that.

I hope you enjoy baby/toddler toys and stuffed animals. Because every other day Evan will come home with some. But of course they have to be thoroughly cleaned. They might have germs, blood, and icky viruses.

If you get sick expect Anna to freak out. Frantically googling things like " why is my baby sick?!?!" And "how to unsick baby?!?!". She will try anything and everything to get you better. Even dumb home remedies.

Evan will just be standing behind her, rubbing her back, and just going along with them. He doesn't want you sick either.

They're pretty good parents. Except you have no say in anything really. And you're treated like a 4 month old. And you might hear screaming from victims in the backyard from time to time buts it finnnnne

But just don't defy the two. Good babies listen to their parents. If you don't then you'll lose even more privileges.

I'm sorry this isn't as good as some of my others but I'm sick with mono so give me a break. I'd love to continue this if wanted. I seriously hope you guys enjoyed it. And everyone say thank you to my sister for helping!! She'd hate me forever if I didn't let her help with dbd requests, especially ones with Huntress

#yandere x reader #yandere headcanon #yandere x you #yandere #ask lyssa #miss blue writing #platonic yandere dbd #yandere dbd #anna dbd #dbd trapper #yandere trapper #yandere huntress #yandere dead by daylight #dead by daylight trapper #dead by daylight #dead by daylight huntress

104 notes · View notes

survivorsfm · 3 months

Text

good day, my most beloveds ! since SURVIVORSFM turned three months since its opening a few days ago ( on the 15th, actually) , i thought dropping our lore further info was the right way to celebrate ! so here it is, and it contains information both about the virus and life outside the sanctuary, how things worked in the beginning, how they evolved, and where the world stands now, after more than a decade ( although not in chronological order ) , luckily it’ll clarify a few things for you. as usual, if you have any questions or anything in this arises other / different doubts, feel free to drop them whether through ask / ims or discord ( lore - ridge or questions channels would work perfectly ) . hope you enjoy it, and happy three months of survivors, babes !

( ! ) the following information contains possibly triggering topics such as common pandemic lore , military violence , infection , body fluids , vaccines , loss , riots , death , and mentions of sexual encounters , blood , and wounds. readers discretion is highly advised.

⸺ ABOUT THE VIRUS.

in the beginning, the virus was also spread by particles of body fluids in the air ( sneezes, saliva, and so on ) , therefore the amount of infected increased quickly and dangerously. 47% of the population was dead by the end of the first year, and 21% of the living one was already infected.

scientists all over the world worked relentlessly looking for a cure, or at least something that could help to improve things in any way, and those at the uc, armed with everything they needed due to the stock in the science building, after months of research, trials, and errors, managed to develop a vaccine that prevented transmission via regular fluids from happening. every inhabitant of the sanctuary — except those who volunteered as test subjects — got a mandatory shot, as well as any newcomer must get one.

three years ago, the same group of scientists started trying for a gas that would, hopefully, force the infected to dispel. to clean the sanctuary’s surroundings was the main goal behind this trial.

poorly tested before the infiltration of the coalition, they discovered the gas had horrid effects on humans too, and despite this being the reason the antagonistic group couldn’t do any more damage to their home, the experts have been dealing with the consequences until today. read more about it here.

engineers and medical teams also developed a device to identify infected using saliva. every new member was tested at the gates before being sent to the quarantine shack, and scavengers and scouts get tested every time they’re back from their expeditions too.

as often happens with common rabies, some people get the virus but don’t develop clinical symptoms. they can live mostly a normal life, but since they’re carriers of the lyssa, they can infect others via unprotected sexual encounters, blood, and direct contact between open wounds and soft tissue. if you want your muse to be part of the immune carriers, please hit us up !

⸺ ABOUT LIFE OUTSIDE THE SANCTUARY.

as soon as the virus struck and countries realized they were facing a pandemic, governments worldwide gave their military forces leave to control the crisis and keep order, allowing them to do it under any means necessary.

specific, thoughtfully chosen cities ( those not too big to be hard to handle, but either too small to be considered towns ) in every country turned into safe zones, areas under governmental aid that stayed safe and stocked when everything around them fell into demise. the military took control to keep order and safety in these particular locations.

this, along with the government permissions, later became a problem, since the inflexibility of the forces and the abuse of their authority caused animosity among the people. deaths of innocents excused under flimsy justifications unleashed the inhabitants' wrath, igniting riots that eventually led to the downfall of several safe zones. only seven remain in the nation today.

governments in most countries still exist, as well as military forces. however, in the states and other big countries in each continent, governments have added high - ranked soldiers to their administration, a decision — a deal — that caused the numbers in the military ranks to diminish rather drastically in the last five years. only the most brutal, desensitized of them remain, which makes things very hard for the safe zones still standing.

numerous sanctuaries have been raised not only in the states, but in other parts of the world too. most of them keep communication with each other, but the uc had refused to engage — the amount of kids within the sanctuary stands as the main reason for this choice.

the closest sanctuary from the uc is located in colorado springs, where after a riot against the military and several losses, the safe zone’s remaining group of survivors secured a part of the city where a mall was placed and tried to prevail there. much like the uc’s people, they started to thrive with time and hard work.

after the infiltration, the uc council has considered the idea of making contact with them, to become each other’s support and aid system, but the fear of being intercepted by the coalition has kept them away from it.

#lore.#appless rp #oc rp #mumu rp #active rp #mature rp #horror rp #tumblr rp #original rp #this is loooong my loves :/#but you know how i was born with zero chill and too many words dancing in my brain enable me a lil would u : ' )

7 notes · View notes

darkened-writer · 2 years

Text

The Future is Bright | Steve Harrington x Reader

Request || HELLO i’ve never requested any fix ever and i couldn’t find your rules so if i go against them please don’t write this but could you PLEASE write something about steve talking with the reader about their future??? maybe like talking over marriage or something??? that little conversation about wanting to have kids got under my skin and i CANNOT stop thinking about it

Pairing || Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings || A smidge of angst if you SQUINT

Word Count || 874

A/N || Request by @lyssa-enrose !! I hope you enjoy !!

The quiet rumble of the RV had almost everyone asleep, except for Max and Dustin, who were having a quiet conversation about the incoming battle that would be knocking at our doorstep. I sat in the passenger seat, directly to the right of Steve, his eyes on the road and a resting look on his face, as if he was in thought.

The only thoughts in my mind were what we were going to grab at the “War Zone Surplus” store, my own skills in battle being more drawn towards a crossbow or basic revolver. However, if we were going to survive any of this, even I would have to buck up and use anything I can to help.

The conversation behind Steve and I came to a stop, as a silenced sound of Kate Bush was flowing from Max’s headphones on her ears. Dustin, opting to stare out of the window, in thought as Steve was.

“Have you ever thought about marriage?”

I turned my gaze to Steve, who was now side-glancing at me, while still keeping a keen eye on the road.

The thought of marriage had not crossed my mind since a couple years into our relationship, the majority of time being taken by fighting off various monsters and particles alike. But, when the peace-period rolled around, the thought had lingered like a cough that won’t come out of a throat. The idea of walking down an aisle, Joyce passing me off to Steve, cheers from Dustin and El, a white gown adorned on my body, and Steve’s magnetic smile, it all seemed a happy fancy when we fought the evil forces of the “Upside Down”.

“I have… why ask about it now when we’re about to gear up to fight a literal monster.”

He pauses, looking over his shoulder at the tired group of kids and early adults, who haven’t even experienced a fraction of long lives ahead of them, before turning to look me.

“You know… when we first met, through Nancy, I knew you were different…”

His eyes shifted, “We worked well in battle, and I knew that it had to be you. It was always going to be you, regardless of how many chicks I aimlessly flirted with...-”

I let out a chuckle, and he grinned at it, continuing his “speech”.

“So, once we put this sucker in the ground and assure that everyone is safe… I want to marry you. A sincere and wholesome marriage with a layers tall cake, and cheesy music, and god, I really want to see you in a wedding dress… clutching a bouquet, with a ring on your finger.”

I couldn’t help but let the tears fall, a smile arising on my cheeks, the feeling foreign and odd to me.

“We can even have a gaggle of little me’s and little you’s. The Harringtons! Six little nuggets to pass our badassery onto.”

I look over my shoulder at the group, smiling a bit, “It seems we’ve had practice over these years.”

“We sure have, so… will you marry me after all of this?”

The idea of a white-picket fence, six kiddos, and many smiles was the most appealing thing my mind could show me, my head moving up and down. Steve’s eyes widened with a glimmer of hope, as he clutched the steering wheel with a look in his eyes, determination.

“When we fight, you BETTER stay safe, cannot risk losing future Mrs. Harrington.”

I let my gaze go back to the road ahead of us, a smile large and bright on my face.

“We’ll win, Steve... I can just feel it.”

However, during the battle, Y/N stayed with Dustin and Eddie, bandana clad on her forehead and crossbow in her arms. The coldness of the metal of her revolver was rubbing her thigh.

The metal concert of the century had given her newfound hope until the demobats broke into the RV, forcing the three to evacuate to the real world as Steve had said to do, but Eddie Munson had other plans, his own heroism getting ahead of his survival as he exited the RV and got on a bike to lure the bats away.

Y/N however, was not one to let a friend die, and she followed the boy into danger, saving his life but getting horribly hurt by many bites and flesh torn from her arms, legs, and mid-section.

She eventually woke up in the hospital after Eddie carried the girl back to the RV, nursing her wounds until Steve, Robin, and Nancy arrived, Steve immediately getting her to the hospital before the hordes of people started filtering in due to the gates opening over miles and miles.

Her view was set on Steve, Nancy, Robin, and Eddie all sat in chairs in the hospital room. Steve having moved his chair next to her bed to hold her hand, but what shocked her was the feeling on coldness on her ring finger, her eyes drifting down to see a ring, which looked like a family heirloom from the Harringtons, to be their engagement ring. And, as of right now, having all of her friends in the room, her fiancé safe and sound, the future looked bright.

#xreader #fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington

175 notes · View notes

highwayphantoms · 3 months

Note

Happy Friday, Jay! For Cal Hawke & Cullen “ sometimes i feel like you’re just waiting for an excuse to leave. ” 👀

thiiiiiis ran away with meeeee oops

it also desperately needs editing but no betas we die like duncan

for @dadrunkwriting

Words: 1475 Rating: G

Skyhold was… a lucky break. While they weren’t the only healer within the Inquisition, the days and weeks fleeing through the mountains had been beyond difficult. Between lingering injuries from the attack on and escape from Haven, a desperate lack of anything substantial to eat, and the bitterly cold wind, it was lucky what was left of the Inquisition hadn’t completely crumbled. As it was, they’d nearly lost the Herald; had Cal not gone looking for her, she surely would have succumbed to the cold and her injuries. It was incredible she’d made it as far as she had, and beyond lucky that her closest companion was one of the strongest healers the Inquisition had.

Cal could certainly have matched the man’s gift for healing, but that would draw far too much attention. They’d taken a risk in slipping away to look for Lavellan in shifted form. It was safer to maintain the fiction that they were no more than a common Circle-trained healer.

But Lavellan recovered. The Inquisition limped along to find an intact, abandoned fortress high in the mountains. It seemed to be no time at all before the damage of past fights and the cost of time passing were both repaired, and not much longer before people began to pour into Skyhold at a rate far greater than Cal had seen in Haven. Still, it seemed their fiction had stayed intact.

That was important. So long as no one knew that the infamous Champion of Kirkwall had been hiding within the Inquisition, no one would think to suspect that the equally infamous mage who’d blown up the Kirkwall Chantry was… nearby. Closer than Cal would have liked, really, but that had been the compromise. Cal would slip into the Inquisition with the intent of carefully pushing its members towards protecting the Circle mages who still remained; Anders would stay in Ferelden, at least a day’s ride away but not so far that letters couldn’t be quickly passed back and forth.

And so the sound of a too-familiar voice asking around for Lyssa sent terror down their spine. Cal considered hiding, perhaps ducking out of sight and shifting into cat form, but almost immediately threw that idea aside. Cullen shouldn’t be aware of their ability to shapeshift, but it was not an impossibility, and the sudden appearance of a cat no one recognized in a mountain fortress would draw more attention rather than keep it away. Sticking to their story was a possibility, but Cal doubted they could fool the same person with something as minor as a haircut (or lack thereof) and a change of clothes a second time.

Before they could settle on any one escape route, it was too late. Like the other healers, Cal had been living in a tent in the lower courtyard of the fortress, tending to the remaining injured from the attack on Haven, and when they turned towards the tent entrance, the one person in the Inquisition Cal had hoped to avoid indefinitely was standing there, watching them with a curious expression.

The first thing Cal noticed was that the Inquisition’s commander looked like shit, like he hadn’t slept in a week and skipped a few meals in a row for good measure. They suspected the armor he wore—blessedly free of the insignia of the Templar Order—was hiding even more signs of whatever his issue was.

Was that why he’d come looking for Cal?

No. Please, no. Using magical healing on templars was nearly always an exercise in frustration; the lyrium in their blood made them somewhat resistant to magic of all sorts, and they tended to blame whatever unlucky mage had been in the infirmary when they showed up for healing.

After a moment of tense silence, Cullen tilted his head slightly and remarked, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Inwardly, Cal groaned. They’d made a concerted effort in Kirkwall to avoid him, only to be declared Champion after the qunari attack, which had rendered it utterly impossible to hide. It was a small saving grace that Cullen had never seemed to connect Hawke the Champion with Callie the Circle mage.

It was likely a vain hope, but Cal opted to play dumb. “A while since what, sir?”

“Since Kirkwall, for one.”

Oh, no. No, no, no.

“I don’t know what you mean, Cal quietly replied.

Cullen waved a dismissive hand. “I’m not here to threaten you or any of that, Hawke. I just… I wanted to know something.”

Cal scowled at him and crossed their arms over their chest. “Fine. Ask.”

“You’re the healer who was recorded as dying at Ostagar, aren’t you? That’s how you fled?”

For a moment, Cal was too stunned to reply. Was that why no templars had caught up with them? They’d chalked it up to the darkspawn getting in the way and a high chance their phylactery had been lost at Ostagar, but recorded as dead? That was better than they could have ever hoped for. They lightly cleared their throat and said, “I might be.”

“You’re lucky, really,” Cullen continued. “Had you remained at Kinloch… well, you would be dead.”

Cal frowned. “It’s true, then. Kinloch was annulled.” With a sudden surge of bitterness, they added in a low voice, “And you helped. How many innocent people died at your hand in that tower?”

But Cullen shook his head. “None. Uldred made certain of that.”

Skeptical, Cal stared at him. “What are you trying to achieve here? Forgiveness? Ask the bloody Maker, not me.”

The Inquisition commander sighed and looked away, running a visibly shaking hand through his hair. “No, I… I don’t deserve that. It’s… I need your help.”

“With?” they prompted icily.

“You were a healer in Kinloch. You know what lyrium does to a person.”

“Unfortunately.”

“You’re also the only person I can think of who might be familiar with what happens if someone… stops taking lyrium.”

Cal blinked dumbly at him for a moment before they said quietly, “Why in the Void would you do something like that?” They paused, then added, “Nevermind, I don’t want to know. Yes, I know what happens. It’s not pretty.”

Cullen’s exhausted appearance, the shaking of his hand—it all added up now. He almost certainly wasn’t sleeping, and probably struggled to keep food down, too. Cal unfolded their arms and said, “It’s not something magic can fix.”

Cullen frowned, but the expression was more resigned than anything else. “I suspected as much,” he said, and began to turn away.

Despite themself, Cal spoke one more time. “That doesn’t mean I can’t make it easier.”

–

“I feel compelled to point out again what a fool idea this was,” Cal said, not for the first time, nor even the fifth. “Especially with the level of responsibility you hold. And worse, you’re not telling anyone what you did.”

“I told you,” Cullen grumbled, without looking up from the papers he was poring over. “And Cassandra. She’ll take over for me if necessary.”

“And the Inquisitor, possibly the one person who most deserves to know?” they added, adjusting the satchel slung over their shoulder. The glass bottles within clinked against each other as Cal moved, undeterred by the steps they’d taken to prevent exactly that.

“How, exactly, am I supposed to talk to a woman who is at least a week’s journey away by now and walking into the middle of a civil war?”

Well, that was fair enough. Cal dropped it, instead approaching the desk and asking, “Where do you want these?”

Potionmaking had never been their strongest skill—Anders and Merrill were both a far sight better at it than Cal had ever been—but turning out a handful of sleeping draughts once a week was not particularly difficult.

Wordlessly, Cullen gestured at a shelf to his right, the same shelf as usual. Satisfied, Cal unloaded their satchel, lining the small bottles up neatly in the usual spot and collecting the empty ones. Oddly, two were missing. Cal glanced back over their shoulder, but before they could ask, Cullen said, “I broke a couple of them the other night. I’ll replace them.”

Cal shrugged. “I wouldn’t make a habit of it. Glass gets expensive fast.” They took a few steps towards the door that they’d come in through, and added, “Or do. It’s not my coin.”

“Hawke,” Cullen said, finally looking up from his desk. They paused, somewhat reluctantly. “You always seem so eager to leave, when you don’t have to do this at all. You could just send a runner.”

“People would start asking questions,” Cal replied. “Unless you want a half dozen rumors going around about what sort of mysterious potion Commander Cullen has been getting from the healers?”

Cullen sighed. “A fine point. Go on. I think I saw Varric looking for you earlier this morning, anyway.”

#jay writes #cal hawke #dragon age #da fic

5 notes · View notes

kylowritten · 1 year

Text

If the Slipper Fits

Pairings: Kylo Ren x ForceSensitive!Reader

Summary: Nobody wants to be the woman whose foot fits that slipper.

Warnings: 18+ only; Kylo is somewhat dominating, they finally have sex, female on top, slight sexual harassment (verbal and physical), death

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: After an eternity, I’ve finally written the next part! I apologize about the wait, my life has been hectic and Kylo has had to kind of sit on the back burner. But don’t you worry: all this time has given me the chance to hammer out the details of the rest of this story. And I’m so excited😈

Part Twelve

Arrangements are made for your absence. Palpatine volunteers, so graciously, to oversee Kylo's duties until he returns, with the promise to message him if anything goes awry. You wonder whether or not this had all been his plan. There's no use in bringing it up to Kylo, though, seeing as he would dismiss the speculation; you've barely seen head or tail of your husband since your confrontation in the strategy room.

It incites a ball of dread in your stomach, thinking about all of the time you're going to be spending with him. Would it be awkward? Would he ignore you the whole time? You weren't even sure how well you would be received by the districts. It didn't escape you that people would see right through your plan for what it really was: a publicity stunt.

"Do I really need this many dresses?"

Lyssa is helping you pack. You leave tomorrow. On your bed and scattered across your room are various dresses of various styles. She finishes smoothening out the tulle skirt of a golden dress, then says, "If anything, you need more but I'm being reasonable."

"This is reasonable?"

"You're visiting six districts," Lyssa explains. "And I suspect there will be dinners and other inescapable social gatherings."

You count on your fingers. "Couldn't I just wear like...two dresses?"

"Two dresses?" Lyssa repeats. The horror in her voice and on her face suggests that you might've well told her to cut her own arm off and eat it. "You are a queen now."

You groan.

"Hello, Your Majesty," Lyssa says.

You pry your hands from your face. Kylo stands in the doorway of your room, swathed in armor and black fabric. In his deep, mechanical voice, he says, "This isn't necessary."

"What's not necessary, sir?" Lyssa asks. She starts to wring her hands.

He sweeps a gloved hand, encompassing the room in its entirety. "This. I've already selected everything that she will wear. You're dismissed."

You try to catch Lyssa's eye but she scurries out of the room. You plant your hands on your hips.

"That wasn't necessary. You can't ignore me for, like, half a month and then be rude to my friend," you tell him.

"I didn't want to waste her time."

"You could've told her nicely," you say. You frown. "And what do you mean you've already selected everything? Lyssa was trying to help."

"I picked out what you're going to wear."

If you had been drinking, you likely would've spit it out. But since you were not, you kind of just make a sound like you were trying to blow bubbles with your mouth. "What?"

"You're surprised," he says. His words curl with amusement.

"Yes, I'm surprised!"

"You doubt me."

"Well, we haven't exactly been friendly," you point out.

Kylo takes a few steps forward. His presence is physically demanding, somehow larger and more powerful than the space he occupies. "I've studied your body. I happen to think that I know it quite well."

A blush burns your cheeks. "That doesn't mean — I would like a choice."

"It's one less you have to make."

"I don't mind making it," you protest. "I'm not just some doll for you to dress up."

The tone in his voice has you imagining one of his thick brows disappearing into his hairline. "And you were quite content with Lyssa choosing them for you? It appeared to me that you were unhappy with the process. I thought to ease your...pain," he says, landing on the word.

You feel a crack, a fissure form in your heart and in your anger. But you were stubborn, and you weren't going to let it go so easily. Traitorously, your voice is much softer than before.

"I would at least like to have the illusion of choice," you say. "Or to see the dresses."

Kylo replied, "It's a surprise."

"Should I be afraid?"

"Are you, afraid?"

You stare into the visor of his helmet, lined with chrome. "No," you say. "I'm not."

The plan is to arrive in the Sixth District by nightfall, attend a dinner with the Lord, then spend the next day touring the district. Nervous doesn’t cover it. Unlike Kylo, who had grown up in royalty, you didn't know the proper etiquette or social expectations; while your father grew up relatively wealthy, he hadn't hired you a tutor or governess.

"You'll do fine," Lyssa says, patting your hands.

You smile briefly. "I wish you could come with me."

"I do too," the handmaiden says. "But the prince was very clear that this trip be private."

You felt very small standing in the hangar of the First Order palace. The walls were chrome and black transparasteel, stretching far over your head and hundreds of yards away. Dozens of ships lined the hangar as well as rows of white-clad Stormtroopers, filing in and out of service in an intricate system unknown to you.

Tilting your head back, you regard the massive ship before you. "Is this what we're flying?"

"We'll be taking my ship."

Kylo strides into the room, cowl whirling behind him. You blink at him. "Your ship?"

The prince breezes past you. You follow his form a few rows over, to a ship with large, wicked-looking wings tucked close to the main body. While the body of the ship is small, circular, the wings protrude into the open space above your heads, taller than other ships. Your throat dries.

"The Finalizer," Lyssa whispers to you.

Kylo has already commanded the ship's platform to extend, which hits the tiled floor with a sharp ting. He boards the ship without another word.

"How is there any room for us in there?" You whisper-ask Lyssa.

She smiles, somewhat knowingly, with a touch of chagrin. "I told you, private." A sheepish expression crosses her face. "I hear that the prince is quite a talented pilot."

"Oh great," you answer. Just another thing he succeedes in.

"You probably should get going. You're going to do wonderful," she includes. You hug her goodbye, then approach the entry ramp to the Finalizer. There's a niggling sensation at the back of your mind to look over your shoulder, but you straighten your shoulders instead and ignore it.

Footsteps echo off the ramp. You enter the ship and trepidation fills you — you're not sure what you expect, judging by the outside of the Finalizer. The inside is the size of a supply closet. And, occupying it fully with his massive shoulders, is Kylo Ren. He sits in the only seat, legs spread, an air about him as if inviting you to say something about it.

You sniff and defiantly raise your chin. There's not much space to cross to get to him, perhaps half a step. Settling on the closest leg, you perch on his lap. Immediately one of his large hands snags you around the waist and pulls you in, so that your weight is fully on him.

His hand on your waist doesn't move.

"Ready?" He asks.

Breathlessly, you say, "Ready."

You don't want to reveal your surprise at the situation. Again, you're playing another game that he's unfairly thrust you in.

Using the hand not possessivly holding your waist, he punches a few buttons on the ship's dashboard and moves the gear shift. A loud roaring sound fills the cabin of the ship and, with the high-pitched, mechanical whine that you've grown associated with First Order ships, it rockets out of the hangar. The powerful force presses you even closer into Kylo so that his chest is flush with your back.

"You'll get used to it," he says.

Your cheeks burn. You don't think you would ever get used to the strength of the ships, or the feel of Kylo's body close to yours. Your entire body is on edge, a thousand exposed wires, frayed and bursting with electricity.

"We're starting in the Sixth District?" You ask, after a substantial amount of time passes. You pose the question mostly as a way to distract yourself from Kylo.

Kylo makes a low sound of confirmation. "Yes."

"And...what can I expect?"

"Since we're arriving late, we're to meet the Lord at his estate. He's throwing a feast in our honor, supposedly."

Your mouth dries. "How nice."

"Nervous?"

"No."

"Then why are you squirming so?" Kylo asks, his voice thickening.

You freeze. You hadn’t noticed what you were doing, but now that he brought attention to it, you realized that it had elicited a rather...large...response from him. His cock is hard. At first you're embarrassed by this, but then twistedly triumphant. You wiggle your ass a little bit more.

"What do you mean?" You ask innocently.

Kylo growls. His hand on your waist holds tighter. "Don't play with me."

"I'm not."

You prompt him with more questions about the Sixth District and the dinner, interspersing them with more accidental brushes of your ass, both of you ignoring the lengthening of his cock with each one. He thought he was being clever, taking you on his ship with an obvious lack of space, but you could be just as cunning.

He's in the middle of explaining something when he curses under his breath, and slams down on one of the buttons. He grabs you and, somehow in the tiny space, maneuvers you so that you're facing him and straddling his lap.

Your hands fall on his shoulders, for no where else to go. "What are you doing?"

"Autopilot."

Kylo touches his mask so that the visor detaches, then removes it altogether. His hair, thick and dark like night, frames his face. Eyes, equally dark and imbued with passion, trail over your face. His anger, his unbridled intensity, invokes a primal response in you that you otherwise would've been embarrassed by, if not for the fact that you were looking at him just as hungrily.

Your lips crash together. For the first time, you think, but the thought is quickly drowned out by the frenzy of his gloved hands. He skates them over your back, the curve of your ass. You gasp into his mouth as he brings one hand up to cup your breast, brushing a thumb over your nipple. As if there's a tether, you feel a jolt of pleasure between your legs, in your cunt, a heady connection that he strokes again and again.

Finally he tears your bodice aside, capturing the same nipple with his mouth. He bites down, hard. You yelp in surprise, the sound smothered in your throat as he then assuages the burst of pain by greedily sucking it between his plush lips.

You tilt your head back in ecstasy. He teases and massages your nipples with his tongue and mouth, then repeats the process with the other.

It takes a moment for you to collect your thoughts and launch into a counter response. You fumble for his belt, which is much trickier in the contained space. Kylo growls impatiently, then rips it off himself. Eager to help, you slide his pants down — over his hips, his ass, the thick muscle of his thighs. It reminds you of the time at the dinner table; the way his cock springs forth, liberated, except this time you know that it's going not in your mouth but your pussy.

"Fuck," you say.

Kylo grabs fistfuls of your dress, lifting your skirts around your thighs and nudging your thin panties to the side. "Grab onto me," he instructs, deep in his throat.

You obey, but only one hand reaches his shoulder to brace yourself before he bucks his hips and completely sheathes his cock inside you. You cry out in shock, and in pleasure, but have only a moment to ruminate before he ruts inside you again and again with unrestrained fervor.

Each thrusts feels as if he's about to cleave you in two, sending a splitting sensation through your entire body. He holds you close and allows no time for you to recover.

"Oh, Kylo," you gasp. You feel your first orgasm begin to peak, the tightening in your thighs. Your head swims.

In a surprising move, his grip on control slackens, and he allows you to take over. Without skipping a beat, you snap your hips against his, riding out your own orgasm. Bliss washes over you. An explosion of stars erupts in front of your eyes and you sink down onto him as your orgasm subsides, like the tide from the shore.

"Good, little mouse," Kylo hums in approval. His strokes arrive slower, more deliberate.

You take the opportunity to stretch your legs, rising up and down in quick, short intervals, so that the head of his cock slides in and out between your folds, slick with desire. He groans in response to the pace that you've set — it doesn't last long. He grabs your hips once more.

There's no room for you to move now. He holds you firmly in place, resuming his claim on control. You squirm and wiggle as he fucks you with vigorous intensity, darkness clouding over his face, the expression of someone locked in battle. And that's what it feels like — a war, your bodies the weapons — ravaging against one another as if there could only be one to leave unscathed by it all.

His lips press against your skin, your breast, following the curve of your collar bone down as far as he could along your sternum. A trail of fire, blazing throughout you and igniting your heart.

He coaxes pleasure from you effortlessly, over and over, until, finally, his throat bobs and he spills his seed inside you. Kylo holds you close as he finishes. You feel ruined, wasted. Fatigue clings to your bones as Kylo unseats himself from you and removes himself far enough away to pull on his pants. You've barely managed to gather your wits before he snaps the helmet in place.

"Get ready," he says, as cool and indifferent as ever. You don't exactly expect him to wax poetry, but any kind of acknowledgment would've been nice.

You huff. "For what?"

"We're here."

The sound of steam releasing slices through the cabin of the ship: the door. Kylo untangles himself from you as you panic, hurrying to fix your hair and clothes. You curse as you hear him greeting someone. With a quick glance in the reflective surface of one of the interior panels, you resign to your slightly haggard appearance and then join your husband.

A myriad of thoughts bombard you; first, that the Sixth District stretched far beyond your imagination, with great, swaying trees and the scent of brine wrapping around you; second, you were sorely unprepared for your arrival. An entire entourage welcomed you as you — admittedly, quite wobbly — made your way down the ramp to Kylo's side.

"And this must be the blushing bride!" A man, the one you imagined Kylo had been talking to, beams at you from his rather astute observation.

You arrange your own smile. "It's a pleasure."

"Ah, you're quite fortunate," the man tells Kylo, elbowing him playfully. You would not suspect that he would be one to tolerate such behavior but his posture remains unaffected, although there's no telling how he might've reacted behind his mask. "Pardon my manners, my name is Lord Trion. I am so honored that you have chosen my district to visit first on your campaign."

When Kylo doesn't reply, you realize that he must be waiting for you. "Ah, um, thank you for having us," you tell the man.

Lord Trion grins. If he noticed your blunder, he doesn't act like it; perhaps, one of the benefits you can reap from your new martial status. Having Kylo by your side was quite like having an overly possessive animal as a companion, one prone to striking out at the least predictable moment.

"Come, come. I must give you a tour before the dinner begins. It will be spectacular, to honor the happy couple," Lord Trion announces.

He whisks you both away, although giving Kylo a considerable amount of distance. The entourage follows after, who you assume is an assembly of noblesse and other notable Sixth District representatives. They chatter excitedly behind you, their whispered exchanges drowned out by the gradually increasing sound of waves.

The lord rambles on about the successes and statistics of his district, though you cease paying attention. The Finalizer landed on a strip of sandy pavement surrounded by lush greenery, which unfolds into dunes and glimpses of blue water as you follow the path. Seagulls swoop overhead. You would've enjoyed the moment — if not for the trail of Kylo's expense dribbling from your thighs down your legs.

There was no way for anyone to witness it, but it still made you vaguely uncomfortable.

I told you not to play with me.

You glance sideways at Kylo, who, beneath the protection of the mask, appears deeply enthralled with Lord Trion's boastful monologue.

You could've helped me clean up, at least, you mentally shoot back.

We had no time. I wouldn't want to be rude to our generous hosts, Kylo replies. His voice assumes a lilting tone you're not familiar with. Besides, I couldn't wait one more minute to hear about the benefits of Trion's leadership.

You pause. Was that...a joke? Was Kylo making a joke, and not cruelly at your expense?

You giggle. Trion breaks from his speech to look at you quizzically, and you quickly smother it with a weak cough. You got me in trouble.

You tend to do that quite well yourself, Kylo remarks.

The rest of the way to Lord Trion's castle, Kylo and you swap mockeries about the Sixth District and Trion's less than subtle attempt at appealing to the king to be welcomed on his Court. It's not until you've breached the castle doors that you realize you've never felt so relaxed with Kylo, so calm, dwelling in a companionship you hadn't before. You didn't want to admit it, but it was nice — pleasant, existing without inhibitions.

Behave, Kylo tells you, after you project to him your best imitation of Trion, including the distractive nature of his bushy moustache.

You respond with a secretive smile.

Trion leads you through the castle. It boasts plenty of flamboyant decorations and artwork, a great handful dealing with the ocean or marine life. Finally you end your journey in the Feast Hall, where there's another group of admirers for you to meet and be introduced to.

Kylo hangs back silently, not needing an introduction. You asquiesce to the greetings and hand shakes, until you reach the very last noblesse. A man who Trion calls Parric, with a young-looking face and reddish, receding hair. He eagerly clasps your hand in his.

"No one told me how beautiful the new queen was," Parric all but purrs. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses each knuckle in a display of unnecessary worship.

Like a storm on the horizon, you feel Kylo draw closer.

"Your district is lovely," you tell Parric, prizing your hand from him. Although sheltered in your own district, you're more than aware of the type of men not to trust, and Parric fell directly under that category.

Parric replies, "Even lovelier now that you're here, Your Highness."

Thankfully, you don't have time to answer before Lord Trion is hauling you over to the massive dinner table, where two specially crafted chairs sit — one at the head, and to the right — for you and Kylo. You sit, somewhat reluctantly. A prickle of unease ghosts across your skin as Parric deigns to sit besides you.

Trion engages in Kylo in a (rather one-sided) conversation about the exports of the district. You hold fast to your silverware, as if it might protect you from unwanted interaction. Of course, though, the first course is just drinks, which offers little to no distraction. At least if you were eating you could use the excuse of not wanting to be rude.

Parric clears his throat. "You must be tired from your long trip."

A memory of Kylo rutting into you flashes through your mind. "Very," you say, knowing that Kylo is more than likely listening in.

"Tell me about your new life as queen."

You vaguely give him an explanation, skipping over the parts of rebellion, arguments, and various sexual encounters.

"Hm, how fascinating," Parric replies, although you've left out all of the good parts. "Well, we are so grateful that the prince has found a wife. And such a beautiful one at that."

The dinner proceeds with several poor flirting attempts from Parric. You shovel food into your mouth to keep from responding, though it's hardly necessary; your new best friend seems to quite enjoy hearing himself talk. You barely even get a chance to speak to Kylo. He only brushes his fingers across your knee and thigh on occasion, with the effect of blazing fire across your skin. Near the end of dinner, you eventually grab his hand, and he does nothing to pull away.

You smile at this, but evidently it gives the wrong impression to Parric, who had just asked you to dance. A swell of music rises.

Accept it, Kylo says. But if he gets handsy again he will no longer have hands.

"Sure," you tell Parric.

Guiding you to the dance floor, you realize fairly quickly that you have no idea how to dance. At least, whichever one they’re doing now. You open your mouth to tell Parric but he sweeps you into his arms and onto the dance floor; evidently, he doesn’t mind you mashing his toes.

He takes the lead, imparting no effort to actually teach you the dance. Parric strings you along like a kite blowing in the breeze, tethered on a string but always somewhat lacking behind.

“I should sit back down, I bet my husband is looking for me —” you try.

Parric shuts down your excuse. “Nonsense. He is fine! Look. Our Lord is rather engaging.”

You do look, despite yourself. Kylo lounges in the specially crafted chair, somehow managing to look both dominant and uncaring. While not obviously facing you, you can feel him prickle at your subconscious, the spider-like touch of his awareness. “Hm,” is all you say.

Is he making you uncomfortable?

No, you insist. He’s just…persistent.

I would like to persistently hurt him.

The idea alarms you. As much as you wish you were anywhere else, you know that Kylo wouldn’t hesitate to do just that. Subsequently, you nudge Parric to the other side of the room.

“I should show you the shore at night,” Parric tells you. “It’s quite breathtaking.”

“Sounds like it,” you say.

Parric spins you into a dip, his hands moving dangerously low. “Why don’t we? I hear that a quick skinny dip into the ocean at dusk is just marvelous —”

He might as well have summoned Kylo with his words. The prince arrives within seconds, preceded by a falter in music and the natural flow of the dancing. Undoubtedly he stalked across the room in the slightly murderous way he tended to. Parric’s eyes flutter in shock and he nearly drops you.

“Your Highness —”

“Step away from my wife.”

Parric takes an, admittedly comedic, large step away from you. Kylo’s presence has ceased most of the festivities. Everyone has stopped to stare.

“Do you always propose scantily-clad activities to your guests?” Kylo growls. “To your queen, nonetheless.”

“No — no, sir.” Parric shakes his head.

You watch as Kylo fills the space between him and the other man. He leans in close, the faceplate of his helmet just inches from Parric. Parric nods enthusiastically to whatever Kylo is saying, and even offers him a shaky smile as Kylo draws away. He claps a hand on Kylo’s shoulder.

Several things then happen at once.

You don’t hear the sound of the lightsaber igniting, you barely see Kylo withdraw it at all. In the tiniest flicker of movement, he’s drawn the lightsaber from his side, cross-guard placed firmly in his fist. The lightsaber plunges almost silently into Parric’s chest, up and into his heart, protruding from the low angle that Kylo is holding the weapon at. A beat passes where it’s not yet obvious what’s even happened.

Then Kylo snaps the fiery blade of the lightsaber off, and Parric slumps to the floor.

You stare in horror as he crumbles at your feet, eyes staring straight ahead, a fizzling hole in his chest. The crowd of dancers gasp and retreat back before erupting into chaos — people are screaming and running away, although despite the upheaval of panic, you only see Kylo.

He’s looking at you. He shouldn’t have touched what’s mine.

“You shouldn’t have killed him,” you say, a sob building in your throat. “He didn’t deserve that.”

I warned you.

You sputter. “This is my fault?”

“I’m not saying that,” Kylo snaps back.

You’re preparing a response when Trion pushes through the crowd and sees Parric on the ground at your feet. His face immediately pales.

“Oh, dear,” he breathes. Worriedly, he glances from you to Kylo. “Your Highness, whatever transpired, I offer my humblest of condolences, I don’t know —”

You can’t stand to hear the rest.

Tears blur your vision as you spin on your heel and run away. People swarm in a frenzy, all pushing and elbowing to get out of the ballroom as if Kylo might launch into a full-out attack. You’re jostled from side to side until, finally, you’re spat out into an isolated corridor. Skirts balled in your fists, you sprint down the corridor until you reach the end. You wrench open the door and find yourself outside.

It’s a garden of the same tall, swaying trees and other hot-weathered plants. Sand scatters under your feet. Your shoulders heave from the effort of running, of the scene you had just watched unfold. Finding a darkened corner in the garden, you flatten yourself against the wall and then sink to the ground.

Disbelief clouds your mind.

How could Kylo do that? Perhaps you felt the whip-like change of behavior especially startling after having just a pleasant interaction with him; almost like you had forgotten who you were. This was Kylo. That was what he did.

“You’re not wrong for being afraid of my nephew,” a voice mumbles. “His temper and disposition for violence can frighten even the strongest of minds.”

A figure stands before you, glimmering like Kylo did when he appeared to you in a Force vision.

It was an older man, adorn in sweeping brown robes. A hood framed his face in shadows but you could just barely make out the hint of his mouth and greying beard.

“Luke,” you say, realization dawning on you.

He smiles, if not in a resigned manner. “I apologize about my timing. But this might actually work perfectly.”

You ask skeptically, “What work perfectly?”

“For training, of course,” the Force-user says. “My sister sent me, did she not? To teach you to unravel the dark magic imprisoning Ben’s mind. This may very well be the perfect time for our first lesson.”

- - -

@juniperwoodwell

@judypahtootee

@eternal-mikrokosmos

#cinderella #fanfic #force sensitive #forced marriage #kylo ren #kylo ren fanfic #kylo x reader #kylo x you #one thousand and one nights #star wars #smut #writers on tumblr #writers #reader insert

37 notes · View notes

inkstaindusk · 8 months

Text

7 snippets, 7 people

Tagged by @oh-no-another-idea! Thank you!

Rules: Post 7 snippets and tag 7 people

I have so, so many wips so here are seven snippets from seven different works lol

1. mirror-born [original]

Once she’s changed, she sits down in front of the mirror and ghosts her hands over the makeup products before her. One by one, she puts herself together, until the only reflection staring back at her is ‘Tala.’ Dark red lips and sharp-winged eyeliner, the tiniest bit of blush, nothing too heavy for an uncomplicated, everyday look. The yellow eyes of a royal. Her long hair allowed loose at her back for lack of much physical work to be done. Beautiful and perfect. A princess. The crown princess. Isidora smiles Tala’s smile into the mirror. Sits straight, hands clasped in her lap. It’s second nature by now, really, but it never hurts to make sure she hasn’t lost her touch.

2. dear friend, do you hear? [enstars x twewy]

Kohaku is exhausted. Exhausted and sore, which he didn’t think was possible when he’s dead, but here he is, aching down to his bones, legs struggling to keep him standing. He doesn’t let himself drop, no matter how they scream at him. He has to stay standing, he has to move, because Aira is just a few steps away but too, too far and shuddering, heaving, sobbing into his hands and Kohaku wants to—he wants— He doesn’t know what he wants to do, but he knows he never wanted Aira to be hurt like this.

3. sk8 pov outsider (again!)

Reki rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.” Maki shrugs. “It’s fine. I’m not bothered.” He really isn't. “I asked him out a few times,” Reki tells him. “He didn’t get it, so I stopped. I like being his friend so, it’s not like a big deal or anything, but… You know, sometimes, I think, like, maybe? But then it passes and he’s just normal again and I feel like I imagined it. It’s just kind of… tiring.” Maki frowns. He doesn’t like the look on his face or his tone, self-deprecating, maybe even bitter. “I know I don’t have much of a leg to stand on here, but if it’s any consolation, I think he likes you a lot.” Reki just sends him a wry smile. “Yeah. But only as a friend, I think.”

4. see this ruin through [original]

“Would you slow down, for the love of the Blaze!” Kane Hauer griped, glaring at his unfairly tall and long-legged companion as they made their way through the Light Palace’s bustling courtyard. He tried very hard to maintain his elegant gait, but Aleksey Volkov had a way of forcing him to break his composure. “I’m not even jogging,” Aleksey retorted, though he did slow his pace long enough to allow Kane to catch up. He then returned to his normal walk and laughed loudly when Kane let out a harsh noise from behind him. It was only his need to maintain his noble image that kept him from swearing loudly at him. Aleksey, on the other hand, was known to be eccentric, and thus he had no problem acting as he pleased. “Your walk is my jog,” Kane said through gritted teeth. “That’s your problem, not mine. Ah, Theo! Lyssa!” Aleksey was quick to abandon Kane as he spotted the two familiar figures conversing by the center stage. They whipped their heads around at the sound of his voice and excitedly waved them over. Aleksey grinned, thinking they looked a bit similar with their light-toned hair and bright smiles; though, he would never dare insult Lyssa by saying she had more than surface similarities with their ‘free-spirited’ second prince.

5. capman reki au

His fingers were shaking, trembling around his phone. The screen went dark with inactivity and he saw himself in its reflection, wide-eyed and blurry and terrified. Was that how he looked against Adam? He hunched over, feeling sick all of a sudden. In the corner of his eye, a big, dark figure appeared at his side. Anyone else would have flinched or worse, but he was used to this sudden appearance. In fact, it calmed him a bit, though not enough to make him relax. “Reki,” said Tanaka lowly. They didn’t touch him, but he thought he could sense their hand hovering just over his back. Tanaka was here as themself today, he recalled, not as a capman. “Do you want me to get your friends?”

6. doubt the game [khr oc]

Lambo freezes. “You’re Katou-san?” He blinks. “That’s my name.” “Fuuta-nii won’t shut up about you!” Lambo exclaims, feeling anger rise in him again. “It’s all ‘Katou-san this’, ‘Katou-san that’ and I came all the way here to see why and I don’t see why! You look like nothing! Who even are you?” Katou stares at him, shocked. “Did—did you just say I look like nothing?” “It’s true,” Gokudera says.

7. empty beginnings (or: I Became The Guide NPC in a BL Dating Sim) [enstars]

He stared down at you, cheek propped on the knuckles of one hand from his spot atop the pile of broken time. In his other hand dangled an hourglass, the top almost completely run out. “You couldn’t be satisfied with this one either?” he sighed. You pushed upwards against your hands. Stood, shakily. “No,” you said firmly. “Never.” With your one good eye, you stared over his shoulder at the pictures flying behind his back. You couldn’t stop. It was so small; if you looked away, surely, you would lose it again. The time ran out and, just like its predecessors, the hourglass immediately shattered. Glass and sand fell between his fingers, slipping to join the wreckage below.

Tagging if you want to do this: @lizhly-writes @juruna-yudja @indy-gray @birthday-of-music @highonairtm @internetslice @mirrortouchedsea

#this is also the #preview #that i forgot to post after the last tag game i did lol so there you go!#tag game #writeblr #tagged for me #oc tag #work: ruin #work: mirror-born #oc: katou kouki #khrlb #enstars lb #au: partners in dreams #talks about skoo #one of these is a fic i literally Just Now finished and will not be editing for a few days #while i recover from having written almost 5k words of it in one sitting #according to scrivener anyway #au: capman reki

10 notes · View notes

fated-normal-767 · 8 months

Note

Could I know his skill or about the horrors which befall him?

Or if not, might I hear more about his relations with the utsotsuki bloodline? (And how he came to carry their name?)

CHEERING SHOUTING YIPPEE ETC. Yeah! (I finally get to explain something that starts at, well, the start.)

Tenebris’ skill is that he can bring dead people back to life as long as he edits one genetic feature, slightly changing skills or appearance or health. Oh, and one more catch? It only works if he was the one that killed them. This also works on himself, and he deteriorates into looking less human over the game.

At the start of the storyline, he is 12.

Context: Ares Usotsuki runs the governmental branch that deals with these skills, especially misuse or locating and tracking of people who are actively dangerous. Very morally questionable stuff, but Ares specifically works in the legal area of making sure anyone rich enough can do whatever they want, as well as organisation of the whole thing. (technically he started running it at 15 but they had Kronos pretend he was running it as a 15 year old smart enough to get through law school would have raised too many questions)

Tenebris is found in a street surrounded by several dead bodies. This is never shown in game but is explained by Ares. This is a young child who logically would not do this on purpose. It’s never elaborated on if the dead people are brought back, as all files suggest this never happened at all. Tenebris is taken to this government building, where Ares decides to protect him from any legal problems, for some reason no one understands at all. In order to do this, Ares changes the legal files to show Tenebris as a younger sibling, and hides evidence that he was dangerous.

Tenebris is never encouraged to kill people. No one ever asks him to. That’s important. However, Ares gives him lists of people he cannot hurt, and will casually mention people who have been causing problems, who will then disappear not to be seen again, or reappear with changed memories. Changing memories would not just take one death though: to change anything big it would take being killed multiple times. Ares.. overlooks this as much as someone can.

Then, Tenebris gets the understanding of the systems. I wouldn’t call him fundamentally evil, but he has a strange perception of the world. He hears people say things about issues or ideas or people who are looking at things they shouldn’t. And he invents his own system, where he uses his appearance as mainly friendly to get people to like him, then influences choices. The main turning point is the first player-controllable character death, a man named Nysia who runs a hotel type business which protects people running from the government and happens to be where shimmer is staying for the start of the story.

Tenebris sees themself as Ares’ brother. Ares sees them as someone he is protecting, maybe a friend, but not actual family. Not that he gets along hugely well with his family. I’ll simplify this into a small list as it’s very complex.

Tenebris wants shimmer to get hurt. They are Ares’ sibling, and they take it for granted, they don’t care. It’s unfair. -> Tenebris tell Nysia that as shimmer is linked to the government through their family, shimmer will probably betray him, try to ruin the business, and try to get vulnerable and innocent people hurt. -> Nysia tears out shimmer’s eye, the very visible scar in all my drawings of them. He then convinces everyone shimmer did it to themself. Now shimmer can’t be trusted alone, isn’t allowed to make decisions, and has to go to someone for help. They go to Lyssa, who originally does not believe them. -> When Lyssa DOES realise it was Nysia, they kill him. Quite brutally, using their skill. -> Tenebris realises the use of the butterfly effect.

From there on, he keeps getting more dangerous and causing more things to happen. It’s suggested that he thinks he is acting like Ares. It’s never suggested he thinks he’s doing the right thing.

Eventually, Ares realises this. He realises it in the middle of the first fire, which he has no intention of leaving till he collapses from smoke inhalation and shimmer drags him out of the building. He has extremely blurred memory when regains consciousness, but tells shimmer he knows who was causing all the horrible events. When he remembers and tries to tell shimmer, who already barely trusts him at all, they don’t believe him. They think it’s a trick and that he really Hasn’t improved as a person, that he never cared about anything, and that he’s basically a lying bastard. Now, in this, it could’ve been possible that they shot ares and he died. Meaning ares could make an illusion in which that happened, by having to live through it on loop till the illusion stopped. Ares Usotsuki felt himself bleed to death on the ground about 120 times before he left. And everyone thinks he is dead. Shimmer is guilty but thinks they probably did the right thing (they don’t, they’re lying to themself).

And no one believes Tenebris did anything wrong. But Tenebris didn’t want ares to die. So, Tenebris believes he did something wrong, just a little bit. From there, he continues to do very morally questionable things, though he protects some people in the process, pretending he doesn’t do it on purpose. Then one day he disappears, and ‘Tenebris’ is never seen again.

Pluto is though. He looks very different, and is, for a good period of time, the kindest person in the game. Despite looking quite threatening in an ominous cloak and sleeping in a graveyard, he puts his life on the line to save people. He has a different skill. Pluto can control corpses, basically puppeting them into moving and acting for him.

#theproject.#my posts dont forget this tag bro.#the horrors!!!#this is so much information btw.#this is more plot-dense than anything else I’ve mentioned so far #and there are bits I missed.

10 notes · View notes

audioaujom · 7 months

Text

(9) Back to Square One

LTWF Hub, < prev, next >

Hello and welcome back! Things are bad and getting worse as usual. I don’t have much to say, I think the mess speaks for itself. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1313

Between Virgil being missing, Roman’s ever increasing rage, and the weird smug smile that Janus had been wearing for the last few days, Patton was at the end of his rope.

If Logan wasn't avoiding Patton before he definitely was now, ignoring all of the latter’s attempts at contact over the weekend and leaving him stranded with an agitated Roman.

Patton loved his roommate, he really did, but Roman was stressing him out even more than he already was—and it was starting to become too much.

“What use is campus police if they won’t even investigate!” Roman was yelling, pacing long lines from the dorm door to the windows. “He’s been gone far longer than 48 hours and they have turned up squat!”

“You have to give them time, Roman.” Patton sighed, sitting on the bed and listening to the same rant for the fourth—fifth? sixth?—time. “This is awful, but… you know. They're… busy.”

It's not that he didn't understand—he was just as angry and scared and upset about Virgil being missing—but he was so tired of being angry and scared and upset.

“They're useless.” Roman continued, barely listening. “I may as well search this entire campus myself!”

Patton’s attention was drifting, his laptop open on the bed beside him but discarded and his phone charging nearby. “Okay.”

“And oh boy, if that snake shows his face in front of me this week, my rage will make Lyssa blush!”

“If you say so.” Patton mumbled, staring down at his hands. Roman’s words were blurring together.

“This is the worst!” Roman declared, finally stopping in his incessant pacing and throwing his hands in the air. “Everything is awful and I'm angry!”

Patton nodded distantly, completely unfocused. “Yeah.”

By the time Monday rolled around Patton wasn't looking forward to his classes, for the first time dreading his astronomy class. Every step up the stairs was heavier than the last, Patton nearly turning around and leaving several times—though he ended up in front of the classroom door all the same. A small spark of relief cut through his panic, though, when he saw Logan sitting at his desk. Normally he would be in a discussion with the professor, another student, or Janus—who strangely was nowhere to be found—to avoid talking to Patton.

Patton tentatively stepped into the classroom, internally lighting up as Logan turned to him and stood up to greet him.

“Hello. Are you here for Stars, Galaxies, and Cosmos class designation 1060-10462?” Logan asked, Patton’s hopes crumbling in his chest at the flat words.

What… is he talking about?

“...what?” Patton chuckled awkwardly in an attempt to relieve the tension that only he seemed to be feeling, trying not to panic. “Don't be silly, you… you already know that I am. What are you talking about?”

Logan nodded, the action uncharacteristically mechanical. “That is good to hear. My name is Logan, and I’ll be your ATA for this semester.”

“Logan, what are you…?” Patton stared, hoping for Logan to be joking or even just momentarily malfunctioning—though something deep in his stomach knew better. “What happened to you?”

“I'm afraid I am unsure as to what you are talking about.” Logan’s apology was lifeless, his unblinking digital eyes unfeeling. “I'm quite alright.”

“But you— it’s— it's me, Patton, I—” Patton was desperate, his panic growing as he reached out to grab Logan—only for the latter to step back and cut him off.

“It's nice to meet you, Patton. Feel free to find an open seat.”

Tears were misting in the corners of Patton’s eyes, his hands falling uselessly back to his sides. “Why don't you recognize me…?”

“Am I supposed to?”

“Yes! You— I— We—!” None of his words were coming out right, choking off in the sob barely contained in the back of his throat. “Did none of it… mean anything to you? Can you really just… forget that all so easily?”

“I’m terribly sorry if I’ve done something to offend you.” Logan seemed a little more sincere, but something about it felt… wrong. “But I do not believe we have met prior.”

“We… we were going to chart the stars.” Patton said miserably, sniffing hard to try and keep the tears from finally overflowing. When Logan just stared at him, confusion unchanged, he tried again with, “Andromeda, you said.”

“That would be impossible.” Logan shook his head, all that was left of Patton’s relief shattering into a swirl of murky heartbreak. “How and why would we attempt to travel in space like that?”

Patton nodded a little, wiping at his eyes as he turned away. “...Please excuse me.”

In an instant he dashed back out of the classroom, leaving Logan standing alone in the doorway.

“Oh—!” Logan exclaimed mostly to himself, watching until Patton was completely out of sight. He blinked a few times, before turning back towards his desk. “How odd.”

Having seen the entire exchange, Professor Sanders came jogging up to Logan as soon as Patton was gone.

“Logan, what happened?” He asked, concerned. He knew that those two had been spending a lot of time together, having been the one to approve Logan’s request for out of class time in the first place. “Did Patton say where he was going?”

“No.” Logan shook his head, before shrugging. “I simply introduced myself and he seemed rather upset.”

“...what?” The professor trailed off, now mostly confused. “What do you mean?”

“I asked if he was here for this class—Stars, Galaxies, and Cosmos class designation 1060-10462—and he got upset.” Logan explained plainly, one hand coming up to adjust his glasses. “I'm afraid I don't understand the problem.”

“Someone in tech must've messed up and reset you.” The professor sighed in heavy annoyance, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “Could someone make sure Logan makes it to Dr. Villarehal’s lab, please?”

Patton was running blindly through the halls, partially blinded by his tears.

Does Logan really not remember anything?

Is everything really gone?

After all they'd been through, Patton just couldn't handle the flat out rejection—stumbling as he heard Logan’s dismissive voice over and over again in his head.

I don't believe we’ve met? That would be impossible? What… happened to him?

Patton came to an abrupt stop as he ran face first into someone, who steadied him gently by the shoulders. He looked up to apologize but the words died in his throat as he found himself staring into familiar green eyes.

“Oh, dear.” Janus said softly, letting go of Patton as soon as he tried to pull away. “What ever could have happened to make you so upset?”

“No, Janus, I—” Patton shook his head, though his resolve to keep running was completely gone. His legs wobbled underneath him again as another sob threatened to break out, Janus catching him before he could fall.

“Oh, shh.” He shushed softly, pulling Patton into a light hug. “Just come here.”

Patton tried again to pull away, but it was weaker this time.

He did really need a hug.

Janus smiled in understanding, letting Patton fall back against his chest and tightening his arms just a little. “It’s alright, darling. Let it all out.”

“But I—” Patton’s last protest was barely audible, cutting himself off as he finally let himself continue crying.

“No one will fault you for this, so let me be there for you right now.” Janus continued, rubbing small circles onto Patton’s back. “Clearly something has happened, and you need this.”

Patton hated how comforting and soft the words were, letting himself sink into the hug to relish in its warmth.

Maybe just this once, it would be okay. He needed all the comfort he could get.

However, Patton was buried too deep in the hug to notice the widening smirk on Janus’ face as he continued to mumble comforting words to the crying boy.

Yeah… all according to plan.

8 notes · View notes