#is worthy of rage in and of itself

[burst-of-iridescent]

South Asian and Hindu Influences in ATLA (Part 1)

disclaimer: i was raised culturally and religiously hindu, and though i've tried to do my research for this post and pair it with my own cultural knowledge, i'm not an expert on hinduism by any means. should i mess up, please let me know.

please also be aware that many of the concepts discussed in this post overlap heavily with religions such as buddhism and jainism, which might have different interpretations and representations. as i'm not from those religions or cultures, i don't want to speak on them, but if anyone with that knowledge wishes to add on, please feel free.

it's well-known that atla draws from indigenous, east and southeast asian influences, but something i rarely see discussed in the fandom is the influences the show takes from hinduism and south asia, and there are actually far more than i think people are aware of.

so here's a (non-exhaustive list) of the main inspirations atla drew from south asian culture and hinduism, starting with...

The Avatar

the title of the show itself is taken from the ancient language of sanskrit, often considered the sacred tongue of the hindu religion. in sanskrit, the word "avatar" means to "descend" or "alight".

the concept of the avatar is a very old one, referring to the physical incarnation of a powerful deity or spirit. the idea of the avatar is most often linked to the god Vishnu, one of three supreme hindu gods collectively called the trimurti, or trinity. the avatar is said to manifest upon earth primarily in times of great need, when balance must be maintained between the forces of good and evil.

atla borrows heavily from this idea in having aang be the incarnation of a divine spirit who returns to the world during a time of immense strife, and is tasked with defeating a great evil to bring balance back to the world. and though i don't know if it was an intentional reference, it's interesting to note that Krishna, the most famous incarnation of Vishnu was also reborn amidst a fierce storm and carried through a raging sea to a new home where he would be protected from the king who sought to kill him. sounds a little familiar, doesn't it?

Agni Kai and the Philosophy of Firebending

the word "agni" derives from the sanskrit name Agni, the god of fire, though it can also generally mean "fire".

the concepts of lightning bending and the sun being the source of firebending are likely also taken from the idea of Agni, since he's said to exist simultaneously in three different forms on three different dimensions: as fire on earth, as lightning in the atmosphere, and as the sun in the sky.

Agni is a significant aspect of many rituals, including marriage rites, death rites, and the festivals of holi and diwali. the concept of Agni is one of duality: life and death, rebirth and destruction. hindu rituals accept and celebrate both aspects, revolving around the idea that destruction is not separate from creation, but rather necessary to facilitate it. the cremation of the dead, for instance, is seen as purification, not destruction: burning away the physical form so the soul is unencumbered, set free to continue the reincarnation cycle.

this influence can be seen in the firebending masters episode, which discusses the idea of fire being vital to life. the sun warriors safeguarding the original fire and demanding that zuko and aang bring fire to the dragons as a sacrifice could also reference the ritual of Agnihotra - the ritual of keeping a fire at the home hearth and making offerings to it. the purpose of this ritual differs depending on which text you refer to, but it is generally believed to purify the person and atmosphere in which it is performed, similar to how zuko and aang must make offerings to ran and shaw and survive their fire before being deemed worthy and pure.

Agnihotra is said to serve as a symbolic reminder of the vitality and importance of fire as the driving force of life, a lesson that zuko and aang also internalize from their encounter with the dragons.

Bumi

bumi's name is taken from the sanskrit word "bhumi", which means "earth". it's also the name of the hindu goddess of the earth, bumi or bhudevi.

one of the things the original animation didn't do and which i really enjoyed about the live action was that they made bumi indian and added desi inspiration to omashu. it makes perfect sense for a king whose name is as hindu-inspired as they come.

NWT Royal Palace

chief arnook's palace in the northern water tribe takes inspiration from the gopurams of hindu temples, massive pyramidal structures that served as entrance towers to the temple.

gopurams were built tall enough to be seen for miles around, beacons to signal tired or weary travellers who wished for a place to rest that a temple was nearby. it's a nice touch that the chief's palace is located in front of the spirit oasis, a similarly symbolic entryway to a sanctuary housing otherworldly deities.

Betrothal Necklaces

to preface: i doubt this was an intentional reference, and this great post talks about other cultures that could have inspired the water tribe betrothal necklaces. given the desi influence in the nwt architecture however, i figured it was worth mentioning.

the idea of betrothal necklaces being given to women by their male partners is similar to the thaali, a necklace given to hindu wives by their husbands. during hindu weddings, grooms tie the thaali around their brides' necks to symbolize their marriage. once given, wives are expected to wear their thaali till the day they die, as doing so is believed to bring good luck, health and prosperity to their husbands.

Chi-Blocking

though chi-blocking takes primary inspiration from the art of Dim Mak, it is also influenced by the south indian martial arts forms of adimurai and kalaripayattu, both of which include techniques of striking vital points in the body to disable or kill an opponent.

kalaripayattu also shares parallels with firebending, being a very physically demanding, aggressive martial art that emphasises the importance of discipline and mental fortitude. control of the mind is essential to control of the body, a philosophy similar to that espoused by iroh across the show.

Wan Shi Tong's Library

the library draws inspiration partly from the taj mahal, the famous mausoleum constructed by shah jahan during the mughal empire as a monument to his beloved wife, mumtaz mahal.

i'll end this post here since it's getting too long as it is, and the following section will be even longer. for while atla treated the concepts in this post with respect, the same unfortunately cannot be said for its depiction of guru pathik and combustion man - both of which we'll be discussing next.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #atla cultural influences #hinduism in atla

[aviawrites]

the rage of a harkonnen (dune: part two)

pairings: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Fem!Reader

summary: The Emperor’s second born daughter, Harauna, has never been truly seen by her father; Her light always being dimmed by the shine of her older sister, Irulan. As Maud’Dib continues fighting on Arrakis and her father’s spot falls farther into jeopardy, Princess Harauna sees an opportunity to finally find her place in the Imperium…Wife of the possible Emperor, ruling alongside Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. (3.9k)

a/n: i’ve already seen this movie twice and i’m going again😛 austin’s performance is so compelling, i couldn’t take my eyes off of him whenever he was on screen. i hope you all liked feyd-rautha as much as i do…otherwise i may be crazy. anyway, as always, ur interaction is greatly appreciated, ily<3

warnings: blood, death, abuse

in this story, yn is: Harauna Corrino (Harkonnen)

10191 // month 1 // 📍kaitan 

“Paul Atreides is not our only prospect.” Reverend Mother Mohiam reveals, standing before you and your sister. “The Baron’s youngest nephew, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, will inherit Arrakis. He may be the answer.”

Your eyes open wide, the name itself sending shivers down your spine. You, along with all of your family, knew of Feyd-Rautha - Knew of the Sadistic Harkonnen, known for slaughtering anyone who challenges him, even his own people. 

“Feyd-Rautha?” Irulan furrows her brows, “He’s psychotic.”

“That’s irrelevant. The question is…can we control him?” 

You stare up at the Reverend Mother’s black veil, an idea striking you.  

Since a child, it’s always been Princess Irulan - The Emperor’s daughter. Irulan will inherit the thrones, Irulan will marry Paul Atreides, Irulan will rule the empire. Never once has your father taken the time to look at you. Never once has he asked the Reverend Mother how you are as a Bene Gesserit. If he did, he’d come to learn that you’re just as equipped to take on the role of Empress as your sister. 

You know what you know - You know how impossible it is to ever be worthy of attention in your father’s eyes. The sound of marrying the prince, possibly the future Emperor, doesn’t seem distasteful. Is he a terrible man, yes. May he turn out to be a worse husband, yes. But God forgive you if you choose being the possible ruler of the empire over being second best. 

“I will marry Feyd-Rautha…” You suggest, coming out as more of a squeak. 

Their eyes dart to yours, Irulan’s gaze feeling more like knives piercing your head.

“Young Harauna-“

“No.” Your sister interjects, turning your body toward hers. “Are you crazy? Feyd-Rautha is the last man you need to marry.”

“Irulan, I want to.” You push back, your voice low. “He may be Emperor one day, we need to secure that opportunity. Do we not, Reverend Mother?”

“We absolutely do, Harauna.”

Irulan’s jaw hangs open, looking between the two of you.

“Are you serious? Reverend Mother, you know Feyd-Rautha. You’ve seen him with your own eyes - You want Hara anywhere near that?”

“She’s thinking of the Imperium, Irulan. Should Paul Atreides be alive, he will want the throne.”

“Feyd-Rautha won’t go down without a fight…” You finish for her.

“Precisely. If he loses, Paul will have a bride awaiting him.” She gestures to your sister. “But if he reigns supreme, he’ll have a Corrino by his side.”

Irulan only shakes her head, disbelief glossing in her eyes. 

“Hara…”

“Sister, I need to do this.” You whisper, softly squeezing her hands. “I can’t make decisions like you…I’m not you.”

“W- What does that mean, Hara? I don’t understand-“

“If I get in line for the throne…” You begin. “If I secure a spot for myself in the Empire, I will be nearly equal to you in father’s eyes. I’ll mean something to someone.”

A tear threatens to fall as she struggles to find words. 

“You mean something to me.” She shrugs, now wondering if that holds any value to you. “If I lose you to the Harkonnens…If I have to stay here alone while you’re on Giedi Prime I don’t know how I’ll-“ She quickly wipes her eyes, taking a breath. “I don’t know how I’ll survive this impending war without you, Hara.”

You tilt your head, bringing your hand to Irulan’s cheek. 

“Write to me, Irulan.” You smile, forcing back your own tears as you solidify this departure in your head. “Send messages to Giedi Prime, will you? Write them like you do your entries and I swear to you I’ll read each one. No matter what happens with the Harkonnen’s, I’ll always have my sister back home on my side, right?”  

A thick silence falls upon the three of you, Irulan fighting between perplex and terror as her hands began to quiver in yours.

“I’ll alert the Emperor.” Reverend Mother says, leaving the two of you.

Alone, your sister pulls you into an embrace, one of the tighter ones. She allows her tears to land on your garments, her shoulders trembling as small whimpers escape her lips.

“Don’t do this, Hara.”

10191 // month 3 // 📍giedi prime

“On your birthday of all days. The Baron should know better than to jeopardize his soon to be Planetary Governor in such a public manner. You could’ve died.” 

“I would not have died.” Your husband fiddles with his blade.

“All slaves should be drugged, should they not?” You remind him. “It’d have taken only one swift slash of the Atreides’ blade and The Baron would’ve lost his heir. He’s insane.”

“Careful, wife.” He warns, “The Baron is flawed but his promises are rich.”

“What could he possibly promise you that’s more important than the entirety of this planet?”

He stares, his eyes scanning you up and down as a small smirk grows on his face. 

“The entirety of Arrakis.” 

Creases form on your forehead, your words coming out as stammers.

“…He promises you…Arrakis?”

“If I manage to control spice production.” He explains, reveling in your dumbfounded expression. 

Your mind immediately imagines your life on Arrakis, a fate you’ve never considered. The plan was to marry Feyd-Rautha, be by his side when he defeats his opponents, have your father kneel to him, and rule the Imperium from the planet of the Harkonnens. But now, thoughts of working from the dune covered planet makes the hair on the back of your neck rise. 

“But-“ You clear your throat, “Um - Is that not Rabban’s job?”

“Rabban failed.” He seethes. “He humiliates house Harkonnen with each Fremen attack he allows. With me ruling the mission, there will be no more.”

“What’s the plan? Once you’re on Arrakis who’s to say my father won’t order you out? What if he doesn’t like how you handle-“

“The Emperor has a set fate too, Harauna. If we were to expose what he did to the Atreides’, the houses would explode. A rise against the Emperor would ensue.” He nears you, looking down at your wide eyes as he bares his blackened mouth. “The throne would be ours to take.”

You don’t know if he meant to admit to what he’s admitted to. Though, you have no doubt he’d tell you his plans to kill your father to your face, indifferent to what you might think. But even Feyd-Rautha should have some sort of limit, shouldn’t he?

“Feyd…” You murmur, “What will happen to him? What will happen to my house? My Reverend Mother, my sisters? They’re innocent they don’t deserve-“

He rolls his eyes, turning away in the midst of your oration. “Princess Harauna asks too many questions.” He returns to his spot across the room. “If you want to sit next to me as Empress, I suggest you straighten out a bit, hm?”

10191 // month 3 // 📍giedi prime

14 hours later 

Feyd-Rautha’s room reeks of deceased Harkonnen bodies and dried blood as you storm in, a scowl on your face. 

Inside, you see your husband squatted by a dead servant, one that if you look too close you may realize is an acquaintance of yours. 

‘FEYD-RAUTHA RABBA HARKO-‘ He’s carved into her pale white skin, his letters bleeding into each other.

The Princess Harauna 3 months ago would scream at the sight. She’d turn and run, alerting her Reverend Mother and father that a cold blooded murderer has gotten into your home. Only…this is home. The man carving names into bodies isn’t a stranger, not an intruder, but the man you married. 

Though you’re not sure he knows it, seeing as you can practically taste the Bene Gesserit on him.

You shove, hard, knocking Feyd-Rautha off balance and onto the concrete floor.

“What the-

“Seriously!?” You shout, watching his bewildered expression looking back at you. “You’ve not been of age for one whole day and you’ve already betrayed me!”

“You watch yourself, woman.” He warns you, spite in his eyes. 

“I can smell her on you.” You say, knowing all of the signs of a Bene Gesserit’s work, and a sexually vulnerable Feyd-Rautha. “She could be carrying your child!”

Your husband quickly calms himself, seemingly deciding not to waste energy on someone like you. On someone like his wife.

“Would you stop that yelling?” He mumbles, turning and beginning to smear the blood across the mutilated arm.

“How dare you.” You scoff. “I’m meant to be your princess. I’m meant to be your queen Feyd-Rautha! Not some girl who was on a mission. A Bene Gesserit who was here to test you and didn’t want you for more than one night-“

“You’re not any better!” He rises, his demeanor changing like night and day in a split second. 

The minute he gets angry, his energy dominates the room. “Don’t you ever think you’re a better woman for being a power hungry leech who called dibs on the heir before anyone else.” He jabs, lowering until he’s in your face. 

Your jaw hangs open, offense quickly overpowering the fear that you often feel in the presence of an angry Feyd-Rautha. Or any Feyd-Rautha, at that. 

“I don’t need you.” Your eyes pierce his, flames igniting in yours. “I’m the Emperor’s daughter, I was second in line for the throne. If anything, you needed me to get to where you-“

The wind is knocked out of you as your husband grabs your neck, instantly cutting off your words. He grins, nearly frothing at the mouth as he always does at the slightest hint of violence. He feeds off of violence, in the face of which most people quiver he greets it with a big smile, he yearns for violence, he is violence.

“I needed you, huh?” His face about brushes yours, his saliva dripping onto you. “I wasn’t at home being neglected by daddy, Harauna. I wasn’t the second choice. I didn’t need to marry to get power. I wasn’t worthless.” 

He’s entranced, his hand on your throat tightening with each sentence until you’re sure it’ll snap. You claw at his stained hands, collecting the blood of his servants under your nails.

“Husband-“ You croak, feeling the pressure in your head increase.

Feyd-Rautha only smiles, adrenaline rushing throughout him as he contemplates letting this be the end of you. Maybe he should rid himself of this royal burden before she sits with him at the top.

“Know your place, princess.” He whispers before letting you go with a shove. 

You drop to the floor, crashing into the bloody bodies on the ground and fighting for your pipes to reopen. You frantically heave as he looks down at you once more, evil in his eyes, before he leaves you where you are. 

Weeps escape you, feeling selfish as you cry in the presence of women who got it much worse. 

But you don’t dare complain. For you asked for this. Your sister warned you, your logic warned you. Nevertheless, in times like this, the possibility of being ruler of the Imperium outweighs the possibility of dying due to your attempts. 

“Be the worst position in the highest room.” Your father used to tell you, “For some never make it to the room.”

10191 // month 4 // 📍starship 

The low hum of the frigate gives the cold ambience some character. Rabban lounges across the kitchen table, his feet up on the marble. Your husband sits a few chairs down from you, sheathing and unsheathing his blade, creating a repetitive sound for the two of you to suffer through.

“Princess Harauna.” You hear as the grand doors within the starship open. A servant enters, seemingly a younger version of the Baron, with a thin metal tube in his hand. 

The big man hands it to you, bowing slightly before shuffling away.

“Say thanks to the piggy.” Feyd-Rautha teases, a devilish grin on his face.

Rabban slightly chuckles as you eye your husband, sighing before opening the letter.

“To my sister, Hara.” 

Your eyes gleam, seeming to scan faster and faster the more and more you read. The two men in the room with you don’t seem to notice, mindlessly engaging in their own boredom as the ship heats up in the weather of Arrakis. 

You shut the tube with a click, looking down at it as you weakly attempt to process what you’ve just read.  

“Paul Atreides…is coming.” You reveal, catching the attention of Rabban and Feyd-Rautha. “He makes his way from the south.”

“Paul Atreides is dead.” Rabban corrects you. 

“He didn’t die in the attack-“

“I know that, woman!” He abruptly shouts, banging the table. “I saw to it myself, him and his mother died in the-“

“Sandstorm.” You finish, much quieter than he began. “But he didn’t.”

Your husband has turned his body toward you, now intently listening.

“They live - And they challenge my father now.” You look up at the two of them, “Him. He must be this Maud’Dib, this Lisan-Al-Gaib. Who else would it be?”

“Wait,” Feyd speaks up, “Challenge your father for what, exactly?”

You meet his gaze before reopening the letter, searching for the Irulan’s line on the challenge:

Paul Atreides will arrive unannounced when we land in Arrakis in a challenge for the throne.

Rabban shakes his head. “There’s no longer a need for the Emperor on Arrakis.” He misses the point, “We’ve got the spice production under control. The old bastard can stay home.”

Feyd-Rautha leans his elbows in his knees, looking up at you with that same evil look he gets whenever a dangerous plan arises.

“Atreides’,” He thinks aloud, “They’re little rats. Insects that keep popping up no matter how many times you exterminate.”

“Should I alert the Baron?” Rabban asks, speaking quicker than his acute brain can think. 

“You will do no such thing.” Feyd demands, conjuring up his plan in his much more suitable brain. “Since the Emperor is deciding to pay us a visit despite the work l've done here…Maybe the Atreides' will do the bloody work for us. Keep us in the good graces of the Great Houses."

Bloody work, he says. The exposure and diminishing of your father’s name he means. 

“Brother.” Rabban counters, “The Atreides’ - The Fremen - They’ll have us outnumbered. Uncle should be aware-“

“You will do no such thing.” His brother orders, now loosely pointing his blade toward Rabban. “The throne is mine therefore the throne is yours. The Baron won’t make Harkonnen the greatest house, brother. I will” He leers.

“Husband,” You voice reason, seeing all of the ways you could lose your promised spot to this scheme. “If it comes to a fight and Paul beats you-“

“He won’t beat me.”

“But if this challenge doesn’t go our way,” You hypothesize, “We could lose everything. Paul Atreides won’t let my father live, not after what he’s done. My family will hold no power, my sister will be-“

"I will remain unharmed, will I not? As will my brother.” He redirects. “Are we not your biggest concern anymore? Are we not your family, Harauna?" 

…

The ship gets hotter and hotter as you near Arrakeen. Feyd-Rautha meddles with his torso buttons on the opposite side of the room as you stare at the screen in your bedroom, broadcasting the sandy terrain of the new planet.

“What would your plans be as Emperor, Feyd-Rautha?” You query, eyes locked on the family owned land.

He sighs as he always does when you open your mouth, as if nothing his wife says is worthwhile. 

“Princess Harauna asks too many questions.” He repeats.

“Just answer me…Please.” You urge, the question having appeared in your mind minutes ago and hasn’t stopped nagging since. 

“What do you think my plans are, princess?” He turns toward you, his dark and threatening eyes seeming to dim the entire room. “I’m going to make the entire Imperium Harkonnen. Our family will be the most powerful spice harvesters anyone’s ever seen.” He begins, “I’ll give my Empress a child, grow our empire, and teach my princeling how to rule.”

You listen intently, trying your hardest to envision your life going from Princess of Kaitan, to wife of the heir, to Empress of the Imperium beside Feyd-Rautha, of all men.

Be the worst position in the highest room.

Your husband goes on. “Caladan will be a thing of the past. Atreides will be a thing of the past. Harkonnen will be the great house and any others will just be…Maud’Dib.” He chuckles.

“‘Your Empress’...” You point out, never having heard your name. You only wish to hear where you and your family stand in his master plan. “Would it be me?”

He gives you his undivided attention, letting go of his leather vest. “Why must you talk so much about things that don’t matter?” He asks, true indifference and apathy in his tone.

For some never make it to the room.

“…Is it me or no one?” You speak up, your voice frantically running before your mind can catch up. “Is it me or death, Feyd-Rautha?”

Your attitude shifts in the middle of your sentence as you realize where you’ve heard these exact words before.

“You or no one, Irulan.” Your father would say, stroking your sister’s hair while the rest of you sat and waited for nothing. 

Never in your life did you plan to sit in a Harkonnen’s bedroom and beg for his approval. For his confirmation that you were his. 

But here you are, begging the worst of men to love you the way The Emperor never did. The way he never will. 

“In two moons I will be Emperor.” Feyd-Rautha strides toward you, holding your hands in his as he bores. “Harauna Harkonnen will be next to me.”

A smile grows wide on your face; An odd, yet full, feeling of acceptance spiraling throughout you.

His eyes suddenly seem to get even darker as his grip on your hands morphs into a crushing clutch. “For as long as she knows her place, she will remain.”

Ice replaces the once warm feeling in your veins. Your smile fades as his grows, watching the fear in you rise with each squeeze of your fingers. Tears form in your eyes as the reality of your situation sets in once more as it has over and over since you step foot on Giedi Prime.

But you don’t dare complain. For you asked for this. Your sister warned you, your logic warned you.

10191 // month 4 // 📍arrakeen

two days later

You all stand completely still, your heartbeat seeming to be louder than the atomics outside of the Emperor’s structure. Inside the ring of Sardukaur lies your family; Irulan hiding behind your father as Maud’Dib, in front of your eyes, holds a blade over the Baron.

You and Feyd-Rautha stand alone across the walkway, your husband seemingly hypnotized by Paul Atreides as he plunges it into his uncles neck. Your hand resting on Feyd’s lower back vibrates as his breathing heavies, being just as amazed by Paul as you are. 

The both of your mouths hang open, and for once, you and your husband seem to be on the same page. Paul begins barking orders at your father as you bring your lips to Feyd’s ear, speaking in a hushed whisper to not interfere with the daring Paul Maud’Dib.

“In the event of your death…” You begin. He slightly cocks his head toward you, listening. “Would you have me marry him?”

Paul gives one last daring look at the sea of people standing against him, though, he seems as fearless as your husband as his expression never wavers from stone. 

“Is he worthy?”

Feyd-Rautha doesn’t so much as flinch at your comment, new, for a man like him. You can’t help but believe it’s because you’re right. The na-Baron recognizes that the viciousness that is Paul Atreides, no matter how unexpected, is a perfect match for him. A perfect match for his wife. 

Is he wrong to admit that if not him, Paul may be the closest thing to fit to be Emperor of the universe?

…

You’ve never laid eyes on a fight so glorious. The two most powerful and ferocious men on Arrakis clinking their blades again and again in a battle for the throne. 

The room falls silent as your husband lodges his sword into Paul, holding him close as one of the two release an animalistic roar. His mother stands, his Fremen’s mouths hang agape, your husband just hardly smiles at you over his shoulder. 

You can’t help but feel a sense of dread boiling in your stomach. Yes - You want Feyd-Rautha to reign supreme. Yes, you want to be Empress. But as you watch the devilish sneer on his face fill out as Paul’s blood stains his pasty hand, your heart seems to be pulling you in another direction. You’ve always been quite talented at telling good from bad; But Maud’Dib, you can’t seem to figure out. He lays in the gray area in between the two, you determine. 

Your reflection is quickly halted as the squelching sound of an edge piercing skin fills the room. You sway to the side, eyes wide as you see Paul’s hand gripping the handle, the rest buried into your husband’s heart. 

A gasp escapes many in the room, you included as a hand flies to your mouth. You and your father very well may be the only people in the room who are rooting for Feyd-Rautha. Knowing this, the smiles that sprinkle themselves on attendants throughout the room quickly after the inhale isn’t unanticipated. 

“You…” His raspy voice is almost too quiet for you to catch as he fights for each breath. “You fought well…Atreides.”

He slowly turns his head just far enough to have you in his sight. Even in death, Feyd-Rautha remains as menacing as the day you first met him. 

He has no words for you. He only bares that stupid, prideful, blackened smile that got him stabbed in the first place. 

You seem in a trance as you watch his body thud to the floor, looking as lifeless as the women on his bedroom floor back home. 

“Lisan-Al-Gaib!” A Fremen leader calls, breaking the silence as his people repeat after him.

Paul Atreides, Feyd-Rautha’s murderer, rises. He limps toward you and your family, prompting your sister to swiftly grab your free hand as the other slowly lowers from your lips. 

You had no love for Feyd-Rautha, nothing real. For him you experienced nothing that you should feel for a husband. Nevertheless, the tears flow all the same. 

"The life debt has been paid.” Irulan blurts, squeezing your hand as Paul nears you. “Spare my father and I will be your willing bride. The throne will be yours."

Her words snap you out of your haze, throwing you into the face of reality as it strikes you in the heart. 

"I'll take the hand of your daughter. She will remain safe and we will rule together over the empire." Paul declared.

In the span of seconds you imagine the moment a trillion different ways. If only he had nodded toward you, not Irulan.

‘Where is integrity?’ You wonder. 

Where is honor in sacrifice when you've given all you know to give and you still don't win. You can never seem to come out on top. You can never seem to be first…But your sister can, as she always does.

You snatch your hand away from your Irulan’s; Your eyes glued to your father, now kneeling, as rage grows within you. The rage of all of the rejection you've faced, the rage of all you have given to get to where you are, the rage of now wishing Feyd-Rautha had stuck Paul Atreides' head on a spike for all of Arrakis to see.

The rage of a Harkonnen.

#dune part two #dune movie #dune 2024 #dune part 2 #dune fanfiction #dune fandom #dune fic #dune part ii #feyd rautha #feyd rautha imagine #feyd x reader #feyd rautha fanfic #feyd rautha fic #dune part one

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: A Departure.

Commissioned by the very lovely @ohsotearful.

Pairing: Yandere!Scaramouche x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 1.3k.

TW: Spoilers For Sumeru's Story Quest, Unhealthy Relationships, Mentions of Physical/Psychological Abuse, Themes of Forced Codependence, and Maladaptive Coping Mechanisms.

You arrived at the door of his shrine with no less than a dozen guards in tow – an even mix of Fatui soldiers and Akademiya matra. The most brazen among them attempted to follow you inside, but you dismissed them with a quick shake of your head, a pointed look to the more senior members of the mismatched legion. This was a well-trodden routine, by now, although one you never dared to come with the same entourage more than once. Your husband’s recent distance had not softened his jealous edge, and although you weren’t fond of those most complicit in the newest stage of your captivity, no mortal crime could be worthy of the wrath of such a violent god.

Your footsteps echoed – clipped and solitary – against the bare walls of the stone chamber. The architects of his divinity have already been sent away for the night, leaving you alone with the half-finished mess of wires and metal that was your husband’s fixation. The Shouki no Kami, you could remember the Doctor calling it during his first visits to your estate. A ridiculous name for a ridiculous machine that would only serve the ego of a ridiculous man. Bile rose into the back of your throat at the sight alone, but you swallowed your anger. He’d never been able to react to your rage with anything but his own.

You paused at the monstrosity’s feet, and his voice came to you – reverberating in the back of your mind like the final tones of a chapel bell. “Beloved,” he whispered in the back of your mind, sending a pang of pure agony through your skull. “You aren’t supposed to—”

“I will not hold a conversation with a mumbling voice.” You cut him off swiftly, teeth grit and eyes narrowed. “Either I will speak to my husband's face or I will not speak to him at all.”

A moment passed without a response. Then, stiltedly, one of his monstrosity’s hands tore free from its scaffolding, lowering itself to the ground beside you. With some reluctance, you stepped into his palm and allowed him to raise you to the frontmost panel of his abomination. You refused to call it a face, because to call it a face would be to admit it was his face, which would be to admit that this strange machine was in any way an extension of him. The metallic panel raised and disappeared into some unseen cavity, revealing the hollow, unit chamber behind it. Revealing your husband.

Or, rather, revealing the mess he’d made of himself.

He had never been the pinnacle of beauty, but his pale skin now seemed bleached and colorless, his lithe form limp and crumpled. Glass tubes filled with a pulsing, violet substance had been drilled into the nape of his neck, the base of his spine, the curves of his shoulder bones, and the smile he paid you as he came into view was labored, a fight against some artificial exhaustion. Before you could think better of it, you stepped out of his palm and into his chamber, falling to your knees beside him and wrapping your arms around his neck. “You are,” You pressed your lips into his temple. “the biggest idiot,” Then again, into his cheek, the curve of his jaw. “I have ever met.”

He let out an airy chuckle, melting into your chest. “It used to take a vat of water and thirty minutes of electrocution to make you kiss me like that.”

You ignored the phantom rope that coiled around your lungs at the reminder of the first decades of your relationship. You tried to think of it as little as you could, but his vision had always been more rose-colored than your own. “Can’t I show my husband affection?” You raked your fingers through his hair, resting your lips against his forehead. “It’s not as if I’ll be able to kiss the metal coffin you’re locking yourself inside.”

Another laugh, this one more labored than the last. “You could, if you wanted to. Just wait until it’s finished. It’ll be more glorious than you could possibly imagine – a vessel befitting of the most powerful archon this wretched world has ever bowed to.” He attempted to straighten, only to collapse under his own weight. “It’ll be an improvement to this form, at least.”

“I quite like your current form. It’s only a shame it has to house such a rotten personality.” You looked outward, to his empty shrine. At the time of your last visit to Inazuma (meaning, at the time of your last successful escape from your husband), his creator had still been locked inside a similar cage, or so another yokai had told you over bottles of sake and a game of cards. That visit had been one of your shortest. He knew you too well, by then, and it’d only taken him a few weeks to realize you’d run where you always would - home. “I suppose I’ll be left in the care of your doctor, when you’re finished.”

His response was immediate, purely reactive; a sudden snarl paired with a flash of bared teeth. “Dottore should be thankful to so much as breathe your air. You’ll be the paramour of a god.”

“I’ll be left alone while you turn yourself into a monster.” Your voice was hollow, distant. Even now, months into his transformation, it was difficult to describe the flavor of your devastation. He’d taken you from the place where you belonged and kept you as a trophy. He’d denied you any companionship aside from himself and cut away parts of your world until it revolved solely around him. He tucked dried flowers into the letters he wrote you near-obsessively whenever he couldn’t be at your side. He carved open your skin then demanded you keep your own mutilation out of his sight. He used to read you myths and fairy tales for hours every night, when human language was still foreign to your tongue. He was the closest thing to a friend you’d ever had.

And he was leaving you.

You wondered, briefly, if this was how he felt whenever you tried to get away from him, but discarded the thought quickly. It was your heart that ached the most in the wake of his betrayal, and your husband never did have one of those.

“I can’t remember the last time I was on my own,” you admitted, a pained smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “I won’t ask you to stop. It’s just, when you’re done, I—” The air snagged in your throat. You inhaled sharply, then rested your head on his shoulder. “I’d like your permission to return to Inazuma, my lord.”

Silenced lapse, thick and heavy, between you. He was the closest thing you had to a friend, which meant he knew just how where to plant his knife and, more significantly, just how to twist the blade.

“No.” Stern, stiff, unyielding. Rather than softening over the centuries you’d spent together, he only seemed to grow more callous. “There’s nothing for you, there. You’ll stay here, with me, and I will rule this rotting land with you at my side.”

You opened your mouth, prepared to protest, to argue the way you hadn’t since the first years of your imprisonment, but closed it just as quickly. You buried your face in the crook of your neck, and your husband let you, eager to soak in the touch you so often denied him. Fire, despair, anger bit and thrashed inside of you, but it was all you could do to hold him, to keep him near.

It was all you could do to think of what you would become, after he was taken away from you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #yandere wanderer #wanderer x reader #yanderecore #yancore

[tohot4u]

Last chance

“I’m not asking for a promise, I’m asking for a chance.”  

Macaque swallowed, the tips of his finger burning with hunger as Wukong grasped them close. Vile bitterness crawling up his throat, an angry sorrow pounding in his heart.  

“I-“ He looked up, golden eyes lit with such an intensity. Begging, pleading for him to answer.  The darker, more wicked side of him tempted his tongue. It would easy, much too easy to watch as Wukongs fragile heart broke in pieces. All light bleeding from his eyes as that sense of loneliness and guilt ate him from the inside out. Watching as he drowned himself into his purgatory of regrets-

But Macaque had enough of taking the easy way out.  And perhaps, the never ending revenge he thirsted for was a form of hell itself. 

He searched for any sense of malice, a crack in the easygoing-yet frightening facade the Monkey king had created.  

and yet… 

The only thing off about him was the shaking. That nervous trembling, that he could feel as the king grasped tighter around his hand.  

Wukong was scared-

Scared  

Scared, of the Six-eared Macaque-!  

It was tragically ironic, in the way the roles had once upon a time been reversed. Macaque doing anything-everything-to get a single rise out of Wukong. And no matter what he could do-there was nothing-that could cause such fear. But oh, how easy it was for Wukong to bring Macaque inches before death, leaving him to rot at the edge-with no escape. Now that, was truly frightening. Something worthy to be frightened about.

And in that moment, a single heated glare. Blinded by fury and utter rage so dangerous and vicious-And in that moment Wukong did not see Macaque, but rather a malicious shadow.

Now this, this Macaque could not understand. And his heart so pleaded for him to give in-

Wukong by now had started shifting his feet. A death grip on Macaque’s arm as he awaited his own fate. Soaking in over second of touch and time he had with Macaque. That wasn’t violent fists, and bloody caresses. 

Macaque breathed in ,“One-Just one chance Wukong-“ 

He never finished his sentence before Wukong eyes widened. A glittering sheen at the corners of his eyes, bringing Macaque into his flaming embrace. They stood there, grasping each other like a lifeline. Rocking back and forth as laughing tears trickled from their shy smiles.

”I-“ Wukongs voice cracked, “Thank you.” 

 “Better not screw this up Wukong.”  “No promises.”    “No second chances.”

#lego monkie kid #lmk macaque #six eared macaque #lmk fanart #macaque #liu er mihou #lmk sun wukong #lmk #sun wukong #monkie kid #shadowpeach art #lmk shadowpeach #heheh #drops and runs

[kaicubus]

All That You Want | Hantengu Clones

This is a choose your own path style fanfiction!! At the end of this post there will be four links with descriptions of where you want to go, and what character you’ll end up reading about. All of these outcomes are 18+ so readers beware.

cw : mentions of killing, actual killing, cursing, demon slayer activities.

Art by Mdwyer5 on DeviantArt

You are a hashira. You reside amongst the strongest team of swordsmen that have been trained for years to put an end to all demon kind, no matter how vile, disgusting, big or small, the creatures can be. It is your duty and purpose to kill each and every single one.

At first, you had joined the Demon Slayer Corps to find out who you wanted to be in life. While others had their own personal motives, yours was somewhat introspective and thoughtful, not wanting to cause any disruption in the peace that was unknowing to your peers. You tended to float around quietly, observing everyone as they planned, trained, and feasted with everyone else, making memories and laughing with each other.

A part, no, every part of you wanted that. But even when you had passed all the tests and gained your title as a hashira, you still felt like a lowly swordsman and nothing else. You had thought there was just a few more tasks that needed to be done in order to find your own personalized breathing technique that each other hashira possessed. Some unbeatable task never done before.

Everyone had always made light of the situation to help boost your spirits, but it always reminded you that no matter how anyone looked at you, they would always pity you. With no breathing style, there was a severe disadvantage and low chance of you actually fighting the demons your fellow hashiras slayed. This time was different though.

Over the past few days, you had overheard one of your fellow hashiras talking about a demon of the twelve kizuki, a hierarchical ranking of only the most strongest demons. More specifically, the fourth Upper Moon. Hantengu. From what you know, Hantengu is a demon that holds great power, despite keeping the appearance of an old, frail man, with a growing bulge on his forehead. His blood demon art enables him to split himself into individual clones of himself and create entities that represent four main emotions : rage, pleasure, joy, and sorrow. Each of them hold their own incredible power through their thoughts and feelings of the main body, Hantengu, or the cowardly emotion of fear. You didn’t know how his demon blood art was activated, but there was only one way to find out.

No other hashira has worked their way up to meet or even seen the fourth Upper Moon, but not even the strongest of your peers were quick enough to act as you did.

There was only one way to prove to them that you are worthy of your status as a fellow hashira, and only one way to finally find your breathing technique, alone, and on your own. That was to find Hantengu and slay him, all of him.

The journey itself proved to be long and boring, as per usual. Yet you refused to think of anything other than Hantengu. Nothing else could take your attention off your sword, all the sharp edges that could seamlessly cut through any demons flesh. It was unbreakable, and it’s never met it’s match before. If Hantengu is who everyone says he is, be heading him would be easier than any task you’ve had, you’re confident.

When you arrive to Hantengu’s hidden location, you’re able to sneak in quietly and quickly, practically merging with the shadows. A faint smell of dust and mothballs fills your senses, an indication of just how untouched the rest of the area must be besides the single room Hantengu would be hiding in. Your eyes follow the ceiling and trace the walls above and you start to search for the demon, not making any sound as you do so. To catch him off guard would give you an even better advantage that you already had, but your element of surprise almost always goes undetected.

You start walking around and looking in possible rooms he could be in, and after a few minutes of searching, you let out a deep sigh and come to the conclusion that Hantengu isn’t here and you wasted your time.

That was, until you stood face to face with Hantengu himself, or what at least appeared to be a miserable, frail demon—fitting his description perfectly. He’s crouched and hiding…under a table? You knew what he was capable of, but looking at the heavy lidded eyes of an emaciated entity, you can’t help but feel pity on it. Just like you’ve done for yourself for so long.

Taking a step forward, your feet glide against the bamboo flooring, crunching down on the thin material. Hantengu, now aware of your presence, skitters backwards and falls on his back. The sight makes you cringe. He sounds like bones clattering. His greasy, shoulder length hair appears to be thinning, and his sad head seems to be deprived of all hair follicles.

You hold your ground. Surely, this had to be Hantengu’s true form. The cowardly nature of such a miserable creature fits how he’s described, but you can’t help but wonder how he’s capable of such power.

He’s covered in veins and wrinkles and his horns are barley larger than the diameter of his arms. If you blew on him, he would vanish.

“What…What are you doing here…you…human?” He sounds unsure of himself, still, his voice squeaking and breaking as if he hasn’t spoken in years.

“My name is Y/n, I know exactly who you are Hantengu.” You point an accusing finger at the shivering demon. He instantly falls to his face and bows his head.

“I know of no such thing! I’m innocent! Completely innocent! You can’t take me away! I did nothing wrong!”

Your eyes flutter as you’re taken off guard. “Uhm. Woah, calm down. This won’t hurt. Jeez…”

Hantengu looks up from his vein clustered hands, pointing a slender finger towards you, “It’s hashiras like you who made me! You! You’re responsible for this! Look at me!” He lurches forward but steps on his black kimono and trips on the throbbing bump on his forehead. He makes a muffled ‘ouch!’ sound and tries getting up, but gets stopped when he realizes his horns pierced through the flooring.

“Just…answer me. Why are you here?” Hantengu plucks himself from the bamboo floor and hunches his back into a protective shell-like posture, almost like a loafing cat, all for security.

“Hantengu of the fourth Upper Moon, I’m sorry, but I have to—“

Suddenly, he cries out, “I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna! I was hiding from you demon slayers! Why did you go and have to find me! I didn’t do anything wrong!!!”

Your eyebrow twitches. “You’ve taken multiple innocent lives, feasted on their flesh and blood, and now you’re hiding because you’re too scared to admit what you’re doing is wrong. Really fucked up. Don’t you know, or have any bit of consciousness left inside you to know that?”

“No!” He shouts but scurries back into a wall, “I don’t know what you’ve heard but it’s not right! Don’t accuse me of something I didn’t do! That’s wrong! You’re the villain here!”

“I’m no villain!”

“Yuh huh.” Hantengu covers his face with his hands and hides, “You’re trying to kill me!”

“No! Well, yes! But—“

“HA! See! You’re trying to kill me!”

You let out a loud groan that spooks the demon, “I’m going to kill you because all I want is to be someone! I’m not letting you stand in my way of getting what I want.”

He stares at you with his sunken in, red eyes, and through his prominently downward placed eyebrows. “Well, that’s a selfish reason.”

“IT’S NOT!” You stomp your foot and Hantengu screeches, lifting his arm protectively over his face. “I’ll make it quick. This has gone on long enough and you’re fucking annoying.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You’re so fucking old but you act like a child. Having a tantrum like this, you’re a coward!”

“You act like a child. You’re a coward!”

Hantengu’s mocking pushes off you the edge of insanity. To the point where you can’t take it anymore, he keeps whining and begging for his life, shaking and shivering with the fear that embodies his entire existence. Your head starts to spin.

“Enough! Enough! STOP IT!” You grab onto your sword tighter and fix your stance, “You’re so annoying!”

“No!” He chokes on his tears and coughs, hacking phlegm and saliva onto the tips of your shoes, “I’m not! You are! You aren’t leaving me alone!”

“That’s because—you know what.” You stop talking and bow your head, tilting the nichirin blade of your sword lower down to the demon, “Hantengu of the twelve Upper Moons, rest easy now and don’t ever come back.”

You quickly approach Hantengu, clutching your sword handle in your curled fists. The blinding blade flashes the demons fearful reflection into his eyes and glistens yours on the other side. He opens his mouth to beg for his life one last time, but by the time you see his teeth, the job is already done.

With a swift slice of your sword, you deliver a clean cut blow to the middle of Hantengu’s neck. Just like you trained to do. Seeing all his blood spill out of his neck and head felt good, relieving to say the least since you won’t be able to hear the squeaky, whiny voice of him ever again. His blood paints the walls and every surface it can touch, demon blood soaking the withered bamboo flooring and paper doors. You almost felt bad for making such a mess.

But, when you think it’s finally done and over, suddenly Hantengu’s head smacks against the floor and bounces up, making a disgusting ‘splat!’ sound before remaining afloat in air, giving enough room for his demon blood art to begin.

Hearing all the bones crackling and breaking sends shivers down your spine, squishing and squelching sounds emitting from Hantengu’s new slowly forming body. Unable to look away, you’re forced to watch as a new entity sprouts and grows, rather quickly, from seemingly nothing. Only this time, it was no where near as weak as Hantengu was. This time, the demon forming and standing in front of you was nearly twice your height, and from what you can tell, dressed in nothing but black hakama pants, stronger horns and closed eyes.

That’s all you manage to see before your instincts come in and you start running. Where to? You decide.

> Up the mountains, hopefully fast enough he won’t catch you.

> Into the forest, where you can hide behind the trees to catch a breath.

> Into an open area, where you can have all sorts of ranges and motions.

> Out into a flower field, where hopefully you’ll have an advantage that gives you an upper hand.

#kaicubus #demon slayer #demon slayer fic #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer fanfiction #fanfiction #kimetsu no yaiba #kny fanfic #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #hantengu #hantengu clones #choose your path

[moonlightmagical]

okay i know we all hate (hated?) porter and the way he went about things was absolutely terrible—he’s simply not a great educator when it comes to alternative learning styles—but i cannot tell you how comforting the idea of allowing yourself to feel angry, the idea of rage not being inherently awful and scary, is to a person who has for so long felt so unbelievably ashamed of anger, and has only associated anger with danger and fear. i saw basically a mirror of myself in gorgug, apologizing and hiding from himself because he didn’t truly believe that his rage was a good thing. you really can’t process anything without giving yourself a safe space to experience what it felt like, and anger is no different. the world fucking sucks a lot of the time, rage-worthy things happen and it is a cruelty to yourself not to give yourself the grace to be angry.

anger is human, rage is simply an emotion just like the rest of them, and it doesn’t have to be harmful to others. despite the horrible way porter taught it to gorgug, the lesson itself is so important.

#i did. feel very fucking emotional when this happened. #dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #gorgug thistlespring #d20 #fh #fhjy #fantasy high spoilers

[kaisers-house-of-desires]

I've been thinking about yandere Malleus again and how well you wrote that scene out. ❤️ May I get another yan!Malleus but with corruption kink and size difference? (Over a foot's worth of size difference.) - Starlight

Why of course, Starlight~ I hope you enjoy this continuation of your previous request~

Title: Crime and Punishment (Continuation of The King's New Toy)

Characters: Malleus x m!Reader

Contains: Dark themes (Yandere), corruption, size difference, rough sex, restraints, stepping, overstimulation, orgasm denial, hand job, pet names (love, dear, pet, darling) we're back in Diasomnia's dungeon, double dick Malleus

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Full request below the cut

All characters are 18+

MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI

Reblogs > likes

"I can't believe my toy would try to run away..." Malleus slowly circled you, eying you like a predator hunting its fresh prey as his heels clicked against the floor.

You sat on your knees, head hanging down and wrists tied behind you. Your attire was ragged, holes and slipping off your body. You thought you looked like a prisoner of war, but Malleus saw the fruits of his efforts, or what he only thought were the fruits of his efforts. He saw a scared, trembling little human, a meek little thing. How dare you try to run away after all the kindness he has given you.

You didn't dare meet his gaze as you spoke. "M-Malleus, please I-I'm s--"

His steps stopped suddenly in front of you, and your body went cold. "Did I give you permission to speak, love?"

You shut up immediately, not even risking the answer.

"Good boy~" His steps resumed, the clicking sound of his heels returning. "You know...the reason why I keep you in this dungeon is so I can keep you to myself. I'd hate for any of the others to try to make a move on something that is mine."

You had opened your mouth to speak, but you were quick to shut it, remembering your place.

"I mean, I trust you." He paused, speaking and moving. "Or rather...trusted you." The prince's voice was laced with disappointment as green eyes glared down at your meek form, glinting in the dim room as he resumed his actions. "And here I thought about bringing you to my room, giving you a soft bed to sleep on while I was away, even giving you this lovely little collar that would decorate your delicate little neck."

This was all a game, a sick and twisted game for Malleus. He had left the cell door open on purpose, waiting to see how you'd react. Catching you outside of the cell, well...the rage he felt nearly sent him into overblot. Nearly. Luckily Lilia was there to calm him down, and he even helped restrain you and got you into position in the cell, forcing you to wait for the prince.

So you cursed yourself for being the slightest bit curious, though...part of you was sort of...excited right now.

"Do you have anything to say, dear? You may speak."

Despite the permission, the idea of speaking to Malleus almost felt like a sin itself, but this could be your only chance to speak while it was given to you.

"I-I'm truly sorry, Malleus. P-Please, give me another chance." Your head rose from its hanging position, meeting Malleus's narrowed gaze. "I-I swear to behave! I-I won't run again!"

Malleus was silent save for a small hum, stepping behind you once more. His silence felt deafening, seemingly more terrifying than a verbal response. He pressed his heel to your back, pushing you forward.

Before you knew it, your torso was on the ground, his heel gently pressing into your spine as your form now lay flat on the chilly dungeon floor. A strange chill washed over your body as the light pressure pinned you in place.

"...Do you think you're worthy of another chance, pet?" Your heart strangely wrenched from the name change, knowing well that he was not happy with your response. "I expected more from my toy than some half-hearted apology." As he got to 'half-hearted', the pressure of his shoe increased lightly, causing you to let out a silent, startled gasp.

"I-It wasn't half-hearted, I swear! I promise, I'll be good! I'll--!"

The pressure in your back increased once more. There was no pain, but the pressure certainly heated your body, causing you to shudder.

"Did. I. Give. You. Permission?" Malleus enunciated each word slowly, pressing gently into your back at every word. You hated to admit it but...it felt nice. This force of Malleus felt...nice.

Snapping you out of your taboo thoughts, you heard Malleus sigh as he released you from underneath him. The lack of pressure almost felt like a disappointment. He stepped in front of you, and you weren't able to see much, but when he forced your head up by your hair, putting you back to your knees, you could see angered green eyes narrowed in a domineering stare.

"It seems that you are still unaware of your place, dear. Shall we change that?"

---

Malleus had shackled each wrist on either side of your head, putting you in a position that forced you to stand, lest you decide to hang by your wrists. He admired his work, eying you up and down. His gaze felt like a pair of hands running up and down your body, and it didn't help that he made you strip prior, enhancing the feeling.

"Shackles are a nice look on you, love. Perhaps I should keep you in them more often~"

The prince slowly stepped forward, once again appearing like a predator. Honestly, if you could, you would kneel before him and beg for his forgiveness, because before, you never realized just how tall he is. The top of your head met the top of his chest. Basically, if he wanted to, he could rest his chin on your head. You truly felt small against him, and you were more than willing to grovel before the prince's presence.

But chains kept you from doing so, and even if you could, you knew Malleus would punish you for such a feeble act.

Black nails gently skimmed down your exposed arms before they found a place at your neck, gently pressing into your flesh. It wasn't enough to hurt, but the pressure kept you on guard.

"Now...I trust you can behave, yes?" When you failed to respond, Malleus simply chuckled deeply. "You may speak, dear."

"Y-Yes," you breathed as if you had been holding your breath from his touch. "I-I'll behave. I swear."

Not wasting a moment, Malleus grabbed your hips and lifted you up. Your eyes widened when you felt a hard object line your backside and another pressing against your own hardening shaft. You wrapped your legs around him to keep yourself up, but really, that was unneeded with the prince's strength.

"Should you prove yourself, darling, I will accept your forgiveness and even bring you up to my room as I originally intended." One of his hands left your side as he gently caressed your face, fingers carefully tracing your jaw. You leaned into his touch, melting against him. A dark chuckle left him, knowing his actions were slowly changing you. "Perhaps I could shackle your neck like a dog..."

The idea made your cock twitch, a soft whine unintentionally leaving you. The response did not go unnoticed with Malleus.

"Hmph~ How lewd of you, love. You like the idea of that, yes?"

You nodded, assuming such a response should be okay within Malleus. You'd be correct, as Malleus leaned forward to line your neck with a slow, teasing lick of his tongue instead of berating you in some way.

A soft mewl left your lips as you felt Malleus's hips adjust. His tongue stopped by your ear as he whispered darkly. "Let's get your punishment over with so I can keep my pet at my bedside~"

The pain of your ass stretching was enough to make you nearly black out. It didn't matter that his cocks were slick, they still ached when they entered, but you were thankful that it wasn't the first time he entered, as this time your ass was quick to adjust around such shafts.

"My...used to me already?" the prince teased in a breath, feeling just how tight you were around him. "Has your body been corrupted~?"

You weren't sure if it was or not, as you couldn't think straight at the moment. Malleus gave you permission to speak, stating that from now on you are free to answer him whenever he asks a question.

"I-I...I-I'm not sure...~" Your voice was coated with lust, your legs holding onto his waist tightly. "A-All I know is...I-I want you, Malleus...P-Please~"

One of his hands rested on your neck, the thumb tilting up your head to meet your gaze like you were a doll. "You desire me, love? Well, worry not. You will get me, but it may not be what you actually want." Keeping his hand in place, his forefinger extended up, his nail gently scraping down your cheek. "You will scream, you will cry, you may even beg me to stop, but my actions will not cease. You will learn to understand your place."

"M-Malleus, my love, I-I understand! I-I understand my p--place~!!"

You spoke after a statement, not a question, meaning Malleus took things back into control. He thrusted his hips, both his cocks sliding in and out of you at a rapid speed. The pleasure wrecked into you like a sack of bricks, and you swore you were about to suffocate from it. His movements felt so good, enough to cause you to dig your head into the wall behind you as you screamed in bliss. You called for Malleus, your prince, your love. You were quick to submit, your mind broken from all he had put your through before this. Before you tried to work with him, but now? Now you were just gone, willing to allow yourself to be his pet, his toy. You loved it. You loved him.

"M-Malleus~! F-Fuck~!" You tugged against the chains, as if trying to get away from the overwhelming pleasure, but the fae had his hands on your hips, keeping you firmly in place. There was no escape from the prince's onslaught of pleasure. He would be right: you would scream, you would cry, and yes, you even begged him to stop. You didn't want him to stop because you hated it, no. You wanted him to stop because it was too good. You were in heaven as tears rolled down your face, drool slipping from your lips from your mouth hanging open from the unforgiving pounding. Your cock ached with the desire to release, but at some point, Malleus had gripped the base, preventing you from cumming at all.

You were unsure of how long this lasted, but all you knew is that you didn't want it to end. Malleus had, indeed, corrupted you. You wanted him, you wanted more if possible. You wanted to be his favroite.

At some point, you just couldn't take it anymore. Your voice was hoarse as you spoke. "M-Malleus~! P-Please let me cum~! P-Please~! I-I wanna cum...f-for my king~!"

Your words seemed to intrigue him, his actions faltering for just a moment. "Y-You want to finish? Th-Then...tell me. What are you...going to do?"

You didn't miss a beat. "I-I'm gonna...be a good toy! I-I'll listen! I-I won't ever run...away again! I-I'll be a good boy! I-I promise! I-I promise, my king!" You had to force your voice out, struggling to even form coherent thoughts.

Malleus trusted you, and with that trust, he took his hand and kept the pressure of the grip as he rapidly moved his hand along your cock, jerking you off with no way to cum. You shrieked in ecstacy, thrashing against him as you begged for release. Your mind turned to mush as you wished for nothing more than to cum. When his hand loosened up, it was practically instataneous with his own release. As you shot out multiple ropes of white between you, Malleus's two shafts pumped its own set of thick, white liquid deep inside of you, some of it dripping out of you.

Panting softly, Malleus took note of this, sighing lightly. "Oh my...you're dripping my release onto the floor...what a shame." Removing his hand, Malleus licked whatever of your seed that landed on his hand, humming at your bitter taste. "When I relocate you, I'll have to make sure to acquire a toy that keeps whatever I leave inside of you."

You honestly weren't listening at this point. You were practically unconscious, your eyes half lidded as they gazed at nothing, your chest slowly heaving with air. You heard him, you just couldn't respond properly save for a delayed nod. Taking note of this, Malleus chuckled.

"What a good boy~"

#kaisers house of desires #x reader #x male reader #x male y/n #male reader #x male smut #twisted wonderland #bottom male reader #malleus draconia twst #yandere malleus #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus x y/n #malleus x male reader

[jeannineee]

Solemn

Azriel x Reader

a/n: part two to Rage. This was quickly proofread. There will be def be a part three, I just wanted reader to have a soft moment with Az before she loses her shit on the IC. Requests are open!!

Also, the attention I got on Rage?! Bye. Insane. Love you guys.

warnings: sad Az :(, angry reader, slight nsfw at the end. Probably 18+ tbh.

As soon as Azriel winnowed the two of you home, you stalked towards your bedroom, still trembling with rage.

The wind was howling outside, harsh and unrelenting as it shook the windows. Storm clouds formed overhead, and it wasn’t long before the sound of rain pelting the roof filled your ears.

It was as though the earth itself was reacting to you.

Azriel followed you, so silent you wouldn’t have known he was there, if not for his shadows caressing your hands, your cheeks, in an attempt to calm you.

You turned to him, expression softening as you finally took in his appearance. You’d been so angry earlier, that you hadn’t realized how worn he looked.

“I’m fine,” Azriel whispered as he saw the worry on your face.

“No, you’re not.”

Azriel went silent, trudging past you, and into the master bathroom. He turned the bath faucet on, the water so hot steam began rolling through the space.

“It’s not fair,” you snapped, hands shaking as you began working on the straps of his leathers. “You give them everything. The things you do…” you trailed off, lifting his shirt over his head. “They don’t deserve you.”

Azriel didn’t speak. You didn’t know if it was out of tiredness, or agreement, but he said nothing as you helped him undress. Said nothing as you helped lower him into the bath.

You sat on the side of the tub, biting your cheek as the scalding water made contact with your skin, soaking through your leggings.

Azriel settled himself between your legs, his wings draped over your thighs, spanning outside the tub, and brushing the floor. You placed a kiss on the top of his head. “I love you,” you murmured, before bringing your hands to the back of his neck, massaging away the tension there.

He wouldn’t look at you.

He never could, after spending the day in the Court of Nightmares. He felt he wasn’t worthy of coming back home to you, after all he had done.

Your mate. The other half of your soul. Felt unworthy.

“I love you,” you said again, hands moving along his shoulders, being careful of his wings.

“Look at me,” you urged, tugging on the bond, gently grabbing his jaw, and tilting his head back. “I love you.”

Azriel met your eyes, and returned your tug on the bond with a gentle pull of his own. He was tired. So tired. “I love you,” he breathed, a single tear running down his beautiful face.

You leaned down, brushing your lips against his. As you pulled back, you grabbed a wash cloth, and the cedar-scented soap from the side of the tub, lathering it. You brought the cloth to Azriel’s shoulders, cleaning him.

He sat forward, giving you access to his back, his wings. You traced over the black, swirling tattoos that ran down his spine, smiling to yourself at the goosebumps that rose on his tanned skin.

Once you were finished with his back, you hurriedly undressed yourself, climbing into the tub. Before you could protest, Azriel pulled you into his lap, your back flush against his chest as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“I still need to clean the front of you,” you said, breath hitching as Azriel’s lips trailed your neck, your shoulder.

Azriel smiled against your skin—the first smile he’d mustered in a few days. “I have a better plan.”

“Oh? Can you handle it, Az? You seem tired,” you teased gently, placing your hands over his, where they rested over your navel.

Azriel tensed slightly as your fingers traced over his scars, but he didn’t pull away. He placed a kiss below you ear, before replying, “Never too tired for you.”

You turned in his lap, straddling him. Your breath caught in your throat as his hardness pressed against your stomach. You cupped his face in your hands, his stubble prickling your thumbs as you traced his jaw.

Azriel rested his hands on your hips, arching a brow. “You sure you can handle it?” he asked the same question, a small smirk on his face.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Azriel only hummed in response.

So you lifted your hips, settling yourself onto him. Azriel leaned his forehead on yours, sending all of his love and adoration hurtling down the bond as you rode him.

For the first time in weeks, Azriel seemed brighter.

#acotar #acotar headcanon #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #acomaf #acosf #acowar #acofas #Azriel angst #azriel fluff #angst #fluff #acotar angst #acotar fluff

[hastyprovocateur]

An analysis of Mizu×Akemi

Mizu gave up Akemi to Lord Daichi's men saying her path of revenge has no room for "love, friendship or weakness." She looked Ringo up and down at "weakness" after which he got offended and ended his apprenticeship for not helping Akemi. Mizu's eyes held guilt as Akemi cried out for her, hoping to be by Mizu's side and not go through with her marriage to the Shogun's son. Mizu was aware that if she fought Daichi's men, it meant more would be coming, which inadvertently meant more time having Akemi around, growing close to her... peering into her soul, breaking some walls... like she did at Madam Kaji's when she lay bare the fact that she's not the killer she pretends to be. Which was hammer meets nail as far as Mizu's singular purpose is concerned. It also means a lot that Mizu's appearance in itself wasn't scary to Akemi, or worthy of contempt despite being an aristocrat in an extremely xenophobic time. Racism should've been her second language but she doesn't exercise it. She only noted the distress evident in Mizu's behavior. Her rage- "Your face isn't even so scary... you're just... angry."

The thing about noticing is... you keep noticing more. Especially someone as observant and calculated as Akemi. Mizu was aware of this, hence why she tested Akemi's mettle in the brothel knowing she was the princess all along, trying to get under her skin instead of the other way around- "You thought I wouldn't recognize you?" casting back to the very intense first sight exchanged between the two on the bridge in ep 1. Mizu looked up with little interest, yet the stoic samurai's jaw dropped upon their prolonged eye contact and she tracked the palanquin long after Akemi had left her line of sight. It's implicit that love, friendship, and weakness represent Akemi, Taigen, and Ringo respectively. When Ringo questioned why Mizu let the princess go, she stated that Akemi's "better off" almost following up with "without me." She didn't deem her marriage to the Shogun as favourable, hell, she was unimpressed by the fact that Akemi was trying to save her doomed engagement with Taigen, telling her she's "begging to eat trash" despite being a "magical forest creature," who could have anything she wants. Mizu still considered it the lesser evil as opposed to spending time alone with her.

This isn't the case with Taigen, whom she is decidedly more comfortable with even though he threatens her, and calls her slurs. In part, Mizu believes that she deserves the hatred. She's more familiar with it. With her past where she was the demon as opposed to the future where she could be loved. Imagining true love is cruel for Mizu so she rejects it and embraces her darkness. It protects her from people actually seeing her as a person. As a whole. She can loathe herself in peace. She can be a vessel of revenge. She even promised Taigen the duel he wanted to up and kill her in exchange for his honour. Believing she won't have much to live for after concluding her revenge. Akemi is not the same. She never wished to hurt Mizu, going only so far as to try and drug her, until Mizu made her believe she killed her fiancé. Akemi was soon able to see Mizu's honour when she fought alone against the Thousand Clawed to protect Kaji's girls. Akemi was bent on helping, braving the trained men to protect Ringo and then to save Mizu's life from the man who almost choked her to death.

I will forever love the detail of her vulnerability in the face of death being mirrored by Mizu's own intimacy with Mikio in the flashback, letting her body serve love over rage for once. Engaging in sex was a huge step towards transparency on Mizu's part. Also, the fact that Akemi, in her little capacity, wielded her knife and pulled the clawed men away from unconscious Mizu, trying to keep their focus on her. Knowing she could very well die. She tells Ringo "I have been a captive my whole life. If I die, I'll die free." And then she goes upstairs saying "Mizu can't hold them off alone." Acting, most likely, out of a place of love. I was also warmed at the instances of Akemi trying to "drug" Mizu before she took on the bitter task of killing Kinuyo and then a few scenes later "slapping her awake" from a burning memory of betrayal. When her father's men came to fetch her, Akemi did not doubt that Mizu would fight for her after she did the same for her, hence her asking for her validation "I'm not going anywhere... right, Mizu?". And Mizu would've fought them for her, what's 3 more men after a whole army? But something prevented her.

To ruin Akemi's strong faith in her then... as opposed to later? When more of her ugliness had spilled before the princess? When both their hearts were more open to be scrutinized by the other? Madam Kaji and Swordfather Eiji are both the motherly and fatherly advice Mizu sorely needs. That fighting is an art, not independent of loving. Mizu cannot evade love if she is to take on a bigger war. She cannot do it alone and the story's purpose keeps circling back to the same lesson. Fighting from a place of hatred can never be stronger than fighting from a place of love. Akemi, evidently, was hoping to seek refuge under Mizu's protection. She is loyal, as she was to Taigen even though he abandoned her in pursuit of his lost honor. But Mizu's betrayal broke her heart. At the end of the Bunraku play in ep 5, Akemi confessed that she met the Onryo but that it was "incapable of love." That she searched his eyes for "love or mercy or good," only finding darkness. Both Mizu and Akemi weighed the merit of love in each other, Mizu pushed Akemi away because she felt love and Akemi avoided Mizu because she felt her lack of love.

Taigen, Mizu's former bully, did learn to respect her as a fighter and comrade. Representing their growing camaraderie, how they fight alongside. Mizu told him about Akemi getting married off to the Shogun's son in her duty to him as a friend. Upon learning that she abandoned Akemi, Taigen is also reasonably pissed. Mizu is on the precipice of the rebirth of her katana. Swordfather is justified in being wary of her guilt and darkness, refusing to aid in her pursuit but only guiding her by way of asking her to seek peace, to unify herself. Which she does by adding Chiaki's broken blade (which Taigen took), Akemi's knife, Eiji's tongs and Ringo's bell into the forge. She is ready to make amends by going to save Akemi, to encourage her to leave with Taigen, to be honorable as Ringo wants, and to find peace as Eiji wishes. And ofc to fuck the shit out of Fowler.

Akemi's repeated assertion of "we are not friends" (accompanied by the angy eyes) when Mizu comes back to save her is reflective of that heartbreak Akemi felt after relying on Mizu for her freedom before. Mizu tries to fix this by showing her a way to Taigen, trying to do right by her, asking "Do you still want your freedom or not." To give her what she wants even if she disapproves of Akemi's choice when she states "He's not a good guy, but he could be a great one." Seki too, gives Akemi a share of her dowry he saved to build a free life "With Taigen, or without." Akemi did end up rejecting the idyllic runaway Taigen was willing to embark on, it is hard to say Mizu would take it as an opportunity to make a move on Taigen after deeming him unsuitable for a partner. It would be against her nature to try to jump in as a lover just because Akemi's out of the picture. Not when she's so hot on the track of striking down Skeffington and Routley. It's pretty straightforward if you ask me.

Mizu is focused on going up for a bigger war. To seek the truth. To turn London upside down to kill all the four white demons that sabotaged her life since conception. This is parallel to Akemi deciding to stay and take control of the Shogunate through her powers over her decidedly meek husband. To take control of her life against all the odds that seek to box her up. I do not doubt that she will move to include Kaji and her girls in her retinue, subdue her father's machinations and rebuild Edo, and wrest power from whoever threatens her. Love doesn't seem to be on her cards. Kaji told her to choose a path of freedom through a man, not to choose a man to love like she'd been doing all along- "Stop running to and from men and decide what you want for your fucking self." Could this mean that Akemi is to never chase men romantically? Either way, Akemi follows through pretty quickly. Takoyoshi is a means to an end. Her sexual prowess was her first tool to entry into the Shogunate. Nothing more than an instrument of control as opposed to her initiating any sort of genuine romantic bond.

I fail to see as of now where Mizu and Taigen's paths collide romantically further since the latter clearly showed his intention to abandon all pursuits of greatness and to settle down. Which is vastly opposed to what Mizu and Akemi are bent on doing. I see a lot of potential there. If anything, Mizu would quite possibly need Akemi's refuge if she were to return to Japan in the wake of the London chaos. They are foils of each other. On the opposite ends of the spectrum with the same stories. Poor-rich, blue-red, water-vermillion, darkened-fair, streetsmart-booksmart, warrior-prostitute, bastard-pureblood, masculine-feminine, caged internally- caged externally, widow-new bride. Both deal with same vindictive self-serving parents. Mizu lost her stand-in mother in ep 5, and Akemi lost Seki at the end of ep 9. Mizu the crashing waves and Akemi the rising flames. Both women. Both so alike yet so different. Mizu's name is pretty straightforward, meaning "water." However Akemi's can be written as "bright sea" or "vermillion beauty" While vermillion is Akemi's colour scheme, "sea" is likely her connection to Mizu.

I find the sex in the show to be representative at best. Borne out of duty or manipulation rather than true love. Just because Akemi and Taigen had sex was no testament to the endurance of the depth of their relationship, same as Mizu and Mikio's wasn't. Akemi's alliances with men have always been influenced by the need to go with or against her father and never her independent choice. Same as Mizu merely agreeing to her mother's insistence on marrying and settling down. I liked the juxtaposition of Mizu being submissive during sex and Akemi being dominant, both with Taigen and Takoyoshi as well as in the brothel. Here, I would extend that this isn't their true nature. Both in marriage or the brothel, sex is labour meant to cater to men. As Seki said a woman can only have fixed paths- "Proper wife or improper whore." I can't imagine Mizu or Akemi being happy as either.

Akemi for the most of S1 only wanted to be loved but was being forced to use her lovemaking skills to steer men into agreeing with her. Playing the improper whore. I imagine that in a safer intimate relationship, she would enjoy being on the bottom, to be protected and pleasured instead of always being the pleasurer. Mizu on the other hand, was shown to deliberately downplay her physical agencies during her marriage, to pretend to not know knife throwing or what she wants during sex, thus settling for whatever her husband had to give lest he feel inferior. I would imagine she'd prefer to be loved in all her proactive masculinity, to not be forced to submit. To not be forced to be the proper wife.

Mizu has repeatedly been shown to dominate people unthinkingly, her safety lies in her being on top and knowing what she's getting into. We saw a glimpse of that in the brothel with Akemi under Mizu where she ordered the princess to "get down." The colours from their respective sex scenes blended into one, inky blue on Mizu's end, warm golden on Akemi's. Mizu immediately doses the princess on pursuing worthless men and then Akemi soon willingly submitting to Mizu's protection while thinking of her to be a man. They both tried doing the rightful wife thing, both tried to save their marriages with their husbands as best they could, to be the ideal women even after both men bailed on them. But now they are liberated. Akemi is free from her father and on the path to rule Edo, Mizu is on her own with Fowler, to pursue her revenge in London. Both are relentless in their pursuits. Akemi's "No one refuses me" and Mizu's "We're going to the 9th level" is one and the same. Unstoppable force meets immovable object. Only time will tell. I rest my case.

#mizu x akemi #mizemi #blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #akemi blue eye samurai #bes mizu #bes akemi #ringo blue eye samurai #akemi×mizu #akemizu #blue eye samurai netflix #hasty loves bes

[leovenuslatina]

Dear you 💖

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

a love letter from your fs 💝

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

psa - this PAC is a little different this is more a channeled message than a tarot reading enjoy!

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ᰔᩚ

* take a deep cleansing breathe

and pick a pile that calls to you *

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

pile 1

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ᰔᩚ

Dear pile one, I am absolutely thrilled to express my utter joy and excitement at the mere thought of being in your presence. It feels like an exhilarating adventure filled with endless possibilities. When I am with you, time seems to stand still as we embark on an enchanting journey of love and inspiration. Your warmth and comfort embrace me like a cozy blanket, providing solace to my weary soul. Every moment spent together is cherished, as we create unforgettable memories and share the deepest of conversations. Your companionship brings out the best version of myself, igniting a flame within that cannot be extinguished. In your delightful company, I find solace, encouragement, and a sense of belonging that surpasses all expectations. Pile one, you are my safe haven where happiness thrives and dreams come alive – and for that, I am eternally grateful.

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

pile 2

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ᰔᩚ

Oh "Dear Pile Two, You Complete Me" - how you fill my life with joy and clutter! As I gaze upon your haphazardly stacked papers, misplaced knick-knacks, and random odds and ends, I can't help but feel an inexplicable sense of fulfillment. You are like the missing puzzle piece to my organized chaos. Who needs a meticulously tidy workspace when they can have the delightful chaos of a well-curated pile? From bills that need paying (eventually) to notes scribbled on Post-it's, you hold the irreplaceable treasures of my forgetful mind. Sure, some may scoff at your seemingly disorderly nature, but little do they know the hidden wisdom within your disarray. So here's to you, oh magnificent dear pile two - although your tidiness might be questionable, your charm is unmatched.

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

pile 3

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ᰔᩚ

Dear pile 3, it's only you and me against the world. As I stand here, overlooking the vastness of our existence, I can't help but feel the weight of the universe pressing down upon us. It is in this moment that I realize the magnitude of our relationship, for within your embrace lies all that we hold dear. The world may attempt to tear us apart, but we shall prevail. Our bond is forged through the trials and tribulations we have faced together; a stronghold against adversity. As the tempest rages around us, threatening to consume all that we hold sacred, know that I am steadfast by your side. Our unity imbues me with an unwavering strength; no longer alone in this tumultuous journey through life's torrential storms. Together, pile 3, we defy fate and conquer uncertainty as champions of love and resilience.

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

pile 4

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ᰔᩚ

Dear Pile 4, you are my perfect person. The mere thought of your existence fills me with an indescribable mix of joy and longing. Every fiber of my being yearns for your touch, for the sound of your voice whispering sweet nothings into my ear. In this chaotic world, you are the anchor that keeps me grounded, the lighthouse that guides me through stormy waters. Your presence brings clarity to my thoughts and purpose to my existence. From the deepest depths of my soul, I believe that we were destined to be together - two halves of a whole seeking solace in each other's arms. Yet, fate continues to test our resolve, placing seemingly insurmountable obstacles in our path. But fear not, for I shall endure any hardship and surmount every challenge to be by your side. For you, dear Pile 4, are worthy of every sacrifice and every drop of blood spilled in this epic battle against destiny itself.

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

#black tarot readers #pick a pile #future spouse #channeled reading #pick a card tarot #tarotcommunity #daily tarot #tarot #tarot cards #tarot daily #tarotblr #love reading #love messages #lovers #i love them

[downtherabbithole-tumbleedition]

Sorry for the late reply.

But can I request a playtonic yandere Alduin x daughter Dragon Born reader

Like the reader Dragon soul is his daughter that died years ago but got reborn as a Dragon born dark elf. And when he realized it his daughter reborn he trys to trun her down a dark path and make him Join his side. Please.

And if you can't do it I can think of something else. This just been on my mind lately

Mockingbird

(Yandere! Platonic! Father! Alduin x Dragonborn! Reader)

“And if you ask me to

Daddy’s gonna buy you a mockingbird, I’ma give you the world

I’ma buy a diamond ring for you, I’ma sing for you

I’ll do anything for you to see you smile.

And if that mockingbird don’t sing

And that ring don’t shine

I’d go back to the jeweller who sold it to ya

And make him eat every carat, don’t fuck with dad.”

- Mockingbird, Eminem.

Dragons did not love. Love was for mortals, for lesser beings who lived only a short life where they could freely give their heart to another with no thought of what eternity meant.

Alduin was as old as time itself, the all mighty world eater who cared only for the power he held. Nothing could sway his cold, black heart - not his brothers, the female dovah he laid with, of the endless amount of mortals he devoured.

But you were so tiny, so fragile - one of his nails would have been enough to end your vulnerable little life. And yet, he found himself not desiring your death, perhaps even feeling sick at the thought of it.

The mortal form was an ancient secret among dragon kind, often used to communicate with dragon priests and blend in among mortals when necessary. Alduin despised to use it and thought dragons who used it often to be weak. However, a benefit of such a form was an easier and faster birth for female dragons, perhaps safer as well.

In dragon form, the female would pass the egg as soon as her body allowed, forcing her to guard her offspring for as long as it took to hatch. It could be an especially daunting time, even more so when the female and male hadn’t mated for life. As distasteful as it was, pregnancy was a far safer process for both the mother and offspring if she stayed in her mortal form until the young could leave the womb.

Alduin had never found a dovah worthy enough to be deemed his life partner, but it was awfully satisfying to see how many would throw themselves at his feet just to be mounted by him. Your mother had been one of those - just another female Alduin had fucked and discarded, most likely not even bothering to satisfy her. He had done it countless times, nothing should have been different.

And yet, somehow, his seed had taken root in her womb and made you.

When she came again at his feet, she was foolish enough to believe the seed in her womb would force Alduin to make her his mate.

“Your young is inside me!” She had exclaimed, clutching her stomach, still in her distasteful mortal form. “You and I shall be bound for life!”

He had laughed her at then, a cruel and malicious sound that had snuffed any hope from her eyes, leaving only fear. Alduin did not tolerate insubordination, planning to kill her and the infernal young that grew inside her.

Odahviing, his general and right hand man, had stopped him - much to Alduin’s rage. The general had claimed that killing her would be foolish when Alduin needed an heir, and she seemed the only dovah that had ever been able to carry Alduin’s young successfully.

Alduin was not convinced, countering that he would never cease to exist and, therefore, no heir was needed. Odahviing had his reply, however, stating something along the lines of the bloodline needing to spread if Alduin wanted to rule other worlds.

Although he found it suspicious that Odahviing was fighting so hard to keep the offspring alive, Alduin humoured him - both from the begrudging urge to have young, and morbid curiosity to see if the female would even survive carrying the world eater’s child.

Just as Alduin had suspected, the female did not survive the birth. How could she when you carved your way out from her insides, leaving only a bloody and mangled mess in her place? Begrudgingly, Alduin felt the prick of pride of his young being entering the world with blood on her hands.

He’d planned to kill you, he truly had… but then you looked at him with eyes as red as his own, your cries calming immediately at his touch. So delicate, so trusting.

Every mortal disgusted him but, there you were, born in your mortal form and… disgustingly adorable.

Tomorrow, he told himself every day when the sun set, failing once again to rid you from the earth. Tomorrow the girl will die. But you never did and, before he knew it, you were talking, walking on your own two feet and hanging off the world eaters wings and horns as if he couldn’t kill you in a breath.

“Can we fly now?” You’d always ask him, picking up the ancient language easily from constant interactions with Odahviing and Parthunax. They were the only other living souls he trusted around you, and even that had very quick limits.

“Entitled girl,” he’d grumble, annoyed at your constant requests at him. But, by the end of the day, you were on his back and he was gliding through the air. “I will throw you off if you do not hold on,” he’d threaten. That did not affect you, however, continuously throwing your arms in the air.

Supposedly, you grew bored of “tame” flights in the air, wanting to find your own wings. Alduin’s heart was in his throat when he no longer felt the tiny wait on his back, watching with wide eyes as you plummeted to the ground.

He roared, loud enough to disturb the mountains, chasing after you as fast as his wings would allow. Thank Akatosh he had caught you before you hit the ground. Alduin doubted the world wanted to know what he’d do if he had lost you.

“Are you a FOOL?!” He’d yelled in anger as soon as you arrived home, smoke coming from his mouth due to the rage that rang through him.

“I just wanted to fly, like you,” you replied, far too calm for someone who had practically been on death’s doorstep.

Initially, Alduin had been enraged and frustrated that you had never turned to your dovah form - your true form. The world eater found himself constantly questioning what value you held if you remained in a lesser mortal form ever, wondering if he should kill you and try again.

However, he very quickly became thankful that you seemed unable to become a dragon - after all, you couldn’t leave him if you were entirely reliant on his protection, right? When you grew up and no longer desired to stay by his side at all times, he could simply lock you up in the highest point of the world, away from the all the dangers and unknowns of the world. Your only visitor and protection being Alduin.

After your little jumping stunt, he pondered locking you away from the world early.

“I’m sorry,” you had told him that night, hiding under his wing as you always did when you were scared or sad. “I won’t do it again.”

No, his plan would wait; you weren’t even trying to get away from him yet, why should he make you hate him so soon?

Alduin did not know gentleness or love or affection but he tried his very best to be those things with you, because you relied on him and were the only thing in this world that wasn’t afraid of him. If dragons loved one thing aside from themselves, it was their treasure, and you were the most precious treasure in the world.

But all good things come to an end and any remorse Alduin had inside him was ripped out when the mortals rebelled.

When they took you from him.

He had been so distracted with their rebelling - forcing his hand to the point of anger - that he left his largest vulnerability opened. Someone among Alduin had betrayed him and you were stolen from him. His blood turning to ice when he realised his most precious treasure was gone.

Relentlessly, Alduin and his army had searched the earth for you, burning cities and devouring armies in his unbridled rage. Until you were returned to him, the mortals would know fear like never before.

But when he found you, your head had been stuck on a pike, hanging up like a trophy in one of the mortal camps.

The world burned.

By the time the elder scroll had been used, most of the world had already been destroyed - abolished and devoured by Alduin’s sorrowful rampage, the dragon king running entirely on revenge.

A small part of him wished the mortals had just killed him so he could once again see his precious treasure.

———

About 5000 years later…

They called you a cursed child.

About ten years ago, you had been found by a mercenary, wandering around in the snow in one of Skyrim’s most isolated and dangerous places. Thankfully, he had been one of those honourable mercenaries (as opposed to those who would have sold you) and took you to an orphanage.

You couldn’t have been any older than eight. It wasn’t exactly out of the norm for the people of Skyrim to abandon their children at an orphanage, but a child surviving the harsh dangers of the mountains for divines knew how long… now that was strange. Stranger when you held no memories of your life or family, not even a name.

What really set you aside from the others, however, were your blood red eyes.

Perhaps the mercenary - having seen all sorts of strange things across Skyrim - thought nothing of them but the people at the orphanage certainly had opinions.

“She’s a demon!” One caretaker had exclaimed, pointing at you with a trembling finger and wide fearful, eyes.

“Kill the vampire!” Another had demanded, believing whole-heartedly you were a blood sucker.

It wasn’t long before the guards had been called, many wanting to see you hung for being a “demonic child”. Luckily, the mercenary had vouched for you, explaining that he had traveled with you for weeks and you hadn’t harmed him. As it was, the guards wrote off the caretakers as “emotional women” and left you unharmed - not without some searing glares, however.

Even if they couldn’t have you burned at the stake, the orphanage wouldn’t accept you and they were under no legal obligation to. So, the mercenary took you to Riften at the temple of Mara - where everyone was reasonably tolerable - and the two of you parted ways.

Priest Maramal was nice enough, being a Redguard in Skyrim he was more than used to jeers and harassment thrown his way. You couldn’t complain about the temple, not when you were given shelter, food, and a bed - which was a lot more than some of the people in Skyrim - but you couldn’t sit still, something in your bones told you to explore, to conquer.

By thirteen, you had pickpocketed earned enough money to leave the temple of Mara.

Skyrim was rough, but you adapted fairly easily. You’d always been strong, even as a child, fast too. Due to your sharp tongue (that Maramal often said you needed to hold if you didn’t want to end up dead), you wound up in a lot of scrapes. If you couldn’t fight your way out of them, you could usually run away.

You circled back to Riften soon enough, gaining entry to the Thieve’s Guild due to light feet and quick fingers. You thought you had found a family within the guild but when you were partnered with Vex and there was a spiky situation… she left you for dead. You got out alive - because you always did - but there was an anger towards the Thieve’s Guild you couldn’t contain. You didn’t go back but, one day, you planned to get you revenge.

At sixteen, you’d somehow stumbled your way to getting Astrid’s attention, granting you entry into the Dark Brotherhood family.

It was different from the guild - somehow warmer, more like a family. Astrid was like an older sister, Nazir like an uncle, Veezera like a cranky grandpa. You’d never felt so loved.

But Astrid set you up and, before you knew it, you were in a wagon trailing to the execution block. It didn’t matter; two families had betrayed you (three if you count the first one that abandoned you) and you had nothing left in your heart.

You witnessed something scarier than death that day, however - fear incarnate. Dragons had always been legends but you never believed you’d see one so close. So angry.

Death wasn’t ready for you, it seemed, because you got away.

Not long after, you killed a dragon and absorbed its soul, the myth of the Dragonborn reviving with the dragons. How amusing it was, to watch those nords be outraged at the thought of the “cursed child” being the living version of their most worshipped legend.

They all wished to be the Dragonborn, and yet that honour was given to a girl with blood red eyes and hatred in her heart.

The Greybeards were boring and the Blades were annoying but Parthunax, well, he piqued your interest. Often times, he spoke to you like you were an old friend rather than a naive Dragonborn he had never met before.

It only became clear when Alduin attacked you and Parthunax on the throat of the world, his teeth and flames out for blood.

“Your arrogance will get you killed,” Maramal had often said, when you thought you could do anything. Maybe you should have listened more.

Stupidly, you thought you could defeat Alduin easily. You were, after all, the one thing that could kill him, right? That’s what was foretold so what did you have to be afraid of?

You had used the Dragonrend shout on Alduin, forcing the world eater to the ground. Parthunax had yelled at you to stop but you ran at the black dragon anyways, sword at the ready to slash his throat. It seemed Alduin had adapted much quicker to the shout, though, catching your sword in his teeth and flying up into the sky.

He dropped you.

Honestly, it was a little humiliating that he didn’t even have to use fire or anything of significance… all he had to do was render you useless by dropping you.

Your helmet fell from your face as you fell, unfortunately giving Alduin a perfect view of your helpless and fearful face.

His eyes are red, like mine, you thought, mind trying to escape the thoughts of death. You wanted to scold yourself for being pathetic when a tear fell down your face, realising your life was over before you did anything significant.

Or so you thought.

———

You woke up with a pounding headache, which was strange considering you didn’t recall falling asleep. You groaned with grogginess, snuggling into the comfortable bed.

Wait… I don’t have a comfortable bed.

You bolted upright, heart pumping with fear as you took in the unfamiliar surroundings. The room was huge, larger than courtroom in the Palace of Kings, made entirely of stone and gold. There were books, furniture, decor but it was all extremely mismatched and unfamiliar. As if from an ancient and unknown time.

The oddest thing, however, was that there were only three walls. There was no wall in front of her bed, only a hole big enough for a dragon to fit through.

Why did Alduin save me? You wondered. What could he gain from bringing me here?

You held back a gasp when you heard a noise and saw a man sitting in one of the chairs, staring at you with eyes as red as blood. He stood when your eyes met, taller than anyone else you had ever seen, armour pitch black and spiky.

He looked oddly familiar.

Idly, he looked around the large room with an almost reminiscent gaze. “I should have locked you in here from the beginning,” he muttered with an impossibly deep voice, barley loud enough for her to hear.

You didn’t know what he was talking about but you knew you needed to get out of there. On your left, you spied a gold dagger - not extremely sharp but it should have been enough to injure him.

“Do not try that,” he rumbled when you made the slightest movement, making you whip your head back to him. “Even if you could hurt me, you are far too high up to ever escape safely, little one.”

“Why am I here?” You demanded.

He looked at you then, and you realised, without a doubt, that he was Alduin. That only made the situation even more confusing.

“You are safe here,” he said, as if it was nothing less than a fact. “You can despise me but I will not risk your safety for your happiness ever again.”

“Aren’t you the one who wants me dead?” You questioned dryly, still internally gawking at the fact you were having a conversation with the world eater.

The bastard chuckled. “You really have no idea, do you?”

You only have him a confused look.

“Why would I ever kill my only child?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, blood turning to ice at his words.

“You’re lying.

“An immortal being has no reason to lie.”

You raced to the gold dagger, gripping it in your hand and throwing at Alduin. He barley needed to move to dodge it, the puny attack having no affect on him.

He left after that, claiming you needed to “calm yourself”. You spent hours exploring the place, restlessly searching for a way out that wouldn’t leave you plastered on the ground.

You didn’t know how long you had been there but eventually, he had come back and you attacked him once more, making him leave again. That cycle repeated itself until you were tired, disheartened by how unaffected he was.

“What do you want from me?” You asked him one day, when you had curled into yourself out of pure exhaustion. He had no answer.

Your numbing limbo changed one day, though. Your armour, light as it was, was stiffening your joints. You stripped out of it, leaving you in the simple clothes you had underneath.

Alduin visited you, like normal, but when you turned your back to him, he roared in anger and his eyes glowed red.

“Who did this to you?” He demanded, voice deeper and louder in his dragon form.

You were confused for a moment, having sported no knee injuries since being abducted. But then you remembered the deep, numerous scars on your back - a reminder of Astrid’s intense training. She once said it was necessary if you were to become strong and you thought she cared about you… but now you wondered if she just always hated you.

Despite yourself, you told Alduin. He was the world eater - evil and deadly, the very thing you were supposed to kill… but he was also the only being who had ever looked upon your wounds, your suffering, and given a damn. And, if he was to he believe?d, he was your father, why shouldn’t you tell him?

It was a strange relief to tell someone else your woes, to unleash the many stories of sufferings and betrayal you had faced. By the end of it, you had tears down your face.

Alduin said nothing, oddly calm. Perhaps, he didn’t care.

“Get on.”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, confused as to what he meant.

“Get on my back.”

Still confused, you listened to him, hauling yourself up onto his back and grasping at his spikes so you didn’t fall.

Flying was exhilarating, freedom like you had never known it. You had the urge to spread your arms and feel the wind but Alduin snapped at you when you did.

“Where are we going?” You asked, having to yell so you could be heard over the wind.

“To get revenge.”

When you had told him what had happened to you, it wasn’t your intention for him to burn down Riften. And by all accounts, you should’ve climbed off his back and fought him, made him stop. But… no one in Riften gave a half damn about you. They saw you as the cursed child, a blight on Skyrim.

There was terrible feeling of glee as you watched the wooden houses burn.

You hunted down the Dark Brotherhood after that, adorning your armour and sword, taking a great joy in watching Astrid choke on her own blood.

You knew this wasn’t what the Dragonborn was made more, quite the opposite, but could you be considered the hero of Skyrim when Skyrim hated you? When all you had been given was betrayal and suffering?

You didn’t just let Alduin get away with drowning the cities in fire and blood, you helped him.

The Blades watched in horror as their noble hero was tainted with the blood of the innocent, the Greybeards mourning the prodigy that never was.

Maybe you should have felt guilt but you didn’t really give a damn.

Your blood told you to conquer, so that’s what you did.

———

Alduin feared his daughter would forever be corrupted with ideas of killing him, that she had been manipulated to the point of no return.

Perhaps he should have thanked Skyrim for being so horrible to her - what was it they said? The child that is not embraced by the village will burn it down Yo feel it’s warmth.

The world eater was filled with pride as he watched you slaughter the mortals, the lesser beings who should have known better than to lay a finger on you. If his pride allowed him, he would have thanked Odahviing for making him keep you alive.

Alduin savoured these moments of rage and fire, devouring with his daughter at his side…. Because it would never happen again.

When you had had your revenge and Skyrim had paid the price for disrespecting you, he’d take you back to that tower and ensure you never left.

Perhaps you’d go back to hating him but how could he risk it? How could he risk losing you after he just got you back? Akatosh had given him a gift of mercy in bringing you back to life, and it was not a gift Alduin would waste.

Perhaps in a few centuries, when you were strong enough to defend yourself and smart enough not to be betrayed, you could go free.

No. Alduin truly didn’t believe he could willingly let you back to those wolves in such a vulnerable state. When you could leave on your own, when you had completed your transformation into a dovah, Alduin would do nothing to stop you from conquering the world yourself.

Of course, Alduin prayed to Akatosh that day would never come.

——

I don’t know how that was but I hope you enjoyed. I feel like I rushed the ending a bit lol.

I took some creative liberty with your suggestion so sorry about that.

#Skyrim #Alduin #platonic yandere #yandere skyrim #yandere #yandere Alduin #dragons #the elder scrolls #yandere x reader #female mc #x reader

[youredreamingofroo]

Fanged Temptress

Special

" The last adventurer who laid their hands on this card was very unfortunate and unskilled... Losing most of their health and eventually losing the card itself... She was displeased with their novice-ness... But something about you... Yes... You possess an aura... I think the Temptress will like you. "

Simblr Trading Cards by @buttertrait and @squea !! I love looking at others' cards... Thank you both for making this template!!

⬇ An in-depth look into Nirvana's card stats below the cut ⬇

On picking up :

" Your spine aches, your face becomes flush and your fingers tingle. You're on edge, but gain a new sensation... A new lust for others and their blood. " Passive - Temporary HP loss + RAGE!! Buff : Upon picking up the Fanged Temptress, you lose -15 HP temporarily, and gain RAGE* for 30 minutes. *RAGE!! : You're perturbed by something... you don't know what- but it makes you angry!! It's time to kill. +25%-45% Damage Buff for 30 minutes

In bag/inventory :

" Unbeknownst to you, this card has been draining you of your health points with every hour that you've traveled together [with the card]. On the bright side, it seems willing to help you persuade the being that you converse with. " Passive - HP loss : The Fanged Temptress will occasionally drain anywhere from 0.1% to 1% of your health - This can occur up to 5 times on occasion, and will not happen again for a long while. -0.1%-1% HP Loss up to 5 times at a time Outside-of-Battle usage - Persuasion buff : Using the Fanged Temptress in conversation will sway the other party into agreeing with you, whether it be an argument or a flirt. (Not guaranteed to work for bigger/smarter enemies/NPCs) +100% success rate in decisions ( +60-90% for larger/smarter enemies/NPCs )

In battle :

" The Fanged Temptress is a well-known legend, She's dangerous and alluring, it's time to put this card to the test and see if it holds up to the legend herself. " Passive - Attack buff : Nirvana Lucia herself grants you a spiteful kiss and a slap on your cheek for every turn. +5% Damage done to enemies ( Plus an extra 5% if the enemy is a hunter of any kind [Monster, Animal, etc] ) In-Battle use - Defensive move : The Fanged Temptress is infamously known for her alluring words and enchanting eyes, perhaps seduc- *ahem* perhaps persuading the enemies will get them to deal a little less damage to your fragile body. -15% Damage dealt to the opposing party ( Plus an extra 10% if the enemy is a hunter of any kind ) In-Battle use - Attack move : The Will of Nirvana Lucia courses through your veins, a little nip on the arm could be enough to send an enemy to the nearest Hospital- or better yet, their grave. +25% Damage done to enemies ( Plus an extra 10% if the enemy is a hunter of any kind )

On death :

" You collapse to your knees, your life flashes before your eyes, with the earliest memories first to newest memories last... but wait! You're pulled away from the light and back to reality. You scrounge for your Special Limited Edition "The Fanged Temptress" card but... it's nowhere to be found... " Special - Resurrect 1 : Upon taking Grim's hand, you realize this is a gamble- Let go and face life once more- Or continue on and meet the sweet embrace of death's bed. You'll be prompted to choose Life or Death when you die... Special - Resurrect 2 - Temporary total HP loss : When you chose Life, the Fanged Temptress was displeased that you couldn't hold your own in a fight, crawling to her for life. She deems a worthy punishment for your mockable strength. You lose 25% of your Total HP for 30 minutes [ Cannot Heal above 75% total HP for that 30 minute time period - Stackable debuff ] Special - Resurrect 3 - Card loss : When you chose Death, the Fanged Temptress couldn't help but scowl at your weakness, She'd had sucked enough life out of you for you to finally become feeble enough for death, pathetic. 50/50 Chance to lose " Fanged Temptress " card on Resurrection

#tw : blood #tw : death description #< only at the very end btw 👍👍 #😮‍💨😮‍💨 this took FOREVER!! #I'm sure theres other stats i could've added #but euuurhhmmmm its 9am and i havent slept !! #so yea no more writing for me for the time being #i trieddd to make this balanced (for no reason ofc 💀😭) but its hard cuz Nirvana as a character is just “OP” #But in reality I know the card wouldn't be super OP- or maybe it would idk- #also wanted to do a new pose but I could nawttt be arsed #simblrtradingcards #Nirvana #Nirvana* #the sims 4 #ts4 render #ts4 edit #ts4 #simblr

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Ok no let me explain you a thing.

I can't take it. I literally can't take this moment without making a sound somewhere in the back of my throat. It's the cutest thing ever and it's this frame here that makes it.

Look, I know this is Wan. I know Wan isn't really canon and this is the preschool episode so it's even less so. But there's something in here that is an absolutely canon thing Akutagawa does.

The scene starts off with Akutagawa's typical reverence and excitement that Dazai is sitting near him. Nothing particularly notable there. But then Dazai gets excited by what's going on and Akutagawa gives him this look and I just can't take it man.

Because that's a genuinely fond look. He's happy for him. He's happy Dazai is enjoying himself.

And that's not just a Wan thing. He says along those lines to Kyouka in one of my all-time favourite BSD scenes in general.

It just. I just have a lot of feelings about that. This is a guy who, we know from Heartless Cur and the beginning of Beast, has very little in the way of emotion - but when he does feel, it's rather all-encompassing, even overwhelmingly strong. Things like rage and desperation. It's raw survival instinct.

But then he has. This too.

Here's the thing. In the preschool chapter, silly as it is, Dazai is still fixated on suicide. He has the noose, just doesn't speak about it openly. So, it's probably quite rare that Dazai shows genuine enjoyment the way he did here - and that's worth that small smile.

In the main universe, Akutagawa remembers how Kyouka hated herself to the point of asking to be killed, then sees how fierce she is about defending her new life and self, and decides that he's glad for her.

It really means something to me that one of the very few relational emotions he allows himself to feel is happiness and pride on others' behalf.

It roots itself less in compassion or happiness itself and more in a sense of respect... but remember that Akutagawa hardly gives his respect easily. He gives his respect only to those he considers strong, and in nearly every battle, he finds himself disappointed. What he wants is kind of contradictory - he wants a worthy opponent, so someone who poses a strong challenge to him to prove his own worth as one who will never be weak again... and yet, when they lose against him, he's often disappointed they did not succeed or fight harder, and looks down on them.

Atsushi's motive, or what he initially thinks his motive is, is disappointing to him at first - Akutagawa believes he is trying to prove himself as worthy of living through someone else's acceptance and berates him for it. But that's... exactly what he has been doing. Later on, he continues to question Atsushi for his motives, in yet another of one of my favourite scenes.

He asks him over and over - "why?" And is not satisfied until Atsushi reveals that he's also looking to get rid of the shadow of the orphanage director that follows him like a haunting - that trauma? All that pain thrown in his face? He is fighting to overcome it. He is fighting via proof and change because Atsushi wants to live, and to not have to feel ashamed of that. And that's what it took for Akutagawa to trust him and respect him enough to transfer Rashoumon to him.

I think, on some level, Akutagawa is invested in seeing whether Atsushi will succeed in this. And I think, in spite of everything between them, he will be glad for him if he does.

I just really love this aspect to his character, because while he searches for strength in violence and power and physical skill, it means on a deeper level, he actually sees joy and resistance in the face of despair as true strength that's worth acknowledging.

I want him so badly to accept that as true strength within himself in the main timeline.

I also love it because Beast confirms that Akutagawa would do anything for his sister and I am now free to imagine Gin telling her brother all the things she was learning and how she was slowly connecting to the Black Lizard and feeling overwhelming pride for her but not really expressing that but Gin knowing that's how he felt regardless, anyways that is all

Is this even coherent anymore? Oh well.

#me making an analysis that reads too much into wan number 28746837 #sorry but it drives me crazy and i needed to spew #bsd #bsd meta #...i guess. #bsd akutagawa #bsd dazai #bsd kyouka #bsd atsushi #bsd gin #storyrambles

[starlettechild]

𝔏𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔯𝔢 à é𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔢

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

CONTENT: Raphael x Aasimar!Tav. Even while Raphael is an infernal being, he still has an admiration for divine creatures. The human within him worships them in his darkest moments. He’s become an unholy acolyte, especially for one angel in particular.

⚠️TWs⚠️: Religious(dnd) dynamics, obsessive behavior, religious(dnd) themes. Act 2 and slightly 3 spoilers!!

A/N: Reader is gender neutral and uses they/them pronouns. The aasimar in this version of the story is moralistic, but I’m considering making an opposite version of this for fun. Also, Raphael is 100% a bard. It’s just in him to want to follow something, and what better way to do that than to become a follower of Tav?

“And if the devil was to ever meet you, he’d kiss your eyes and repent.” - Farouq Jwaydeh

The human blood that courses through Raphael has always longed to make itself known. Those pathetic mortal urges that sometimes fleet across his mind had always made him grimace. He would never admit it, but it was his human side that fueled his campaign against his father. The longing for justice and revenge was a mortal urge. Surely, it’s his human side now that makes him give into such a strange thing. Worship. Devotion.

He would never partake in such weak things in his home. Not with peering eyes that always turn to him. His home wasn’t even a home. It was a stage - one he constantly ruled. Putting on his best shoes and displays. His best lies and smiles. No.. he needed somewhere different. Quiet and somewhere only he would be. With the shadow-cursed lands clearing and the adventurers on the way to Baldurs Gate, it’s a perfect place for such secrecy. The lingering darkness provides him with comfort, and the sights of corrupt corpses would scare off any wanderers headed towards this treeline, no? Only the shadows would see, and even they slither away from him in fear.

There was something about Tav that racked and shook the shelves of his mind. An unspoken part of him that wanted to bow in the face of holiness, but another part that wanted to laugh in it. A battle between his two different lineages. But of course, with each heroic deed from them and each glimpse of those great white wings of theirs the battle within was coming to a conclusion. The blows from his human blood began to overpower everything else. His secret wants and admirations were pushed in front of him each day. It became hard to work and manipulate, with such wants unsatisfied. Like a spoiled child his human half demanded to be obeyed, and finally, he gave in.

Deep within the shadowlands is the statue he carved of them in stone. Great wings extended from their back and their hands beaconing forth the weary and weak. In his artistry, he had spent days trying to perfect each finger and feature. Sometimes, destroying the whole thing in a fit of rage and frustration, but then kneeling in-front of the ruins in shame. The last thing he wanted was for such a holy being to be ruined. He wanted them to be perfect. His own deity. A private religion that consisted of only him. Their most loyal acolyte. A flurry of snow begins to fall from the dark sky, frost creeping up the long-dead wood of trees. The flakes slowly make themselves home on his statue of Tav, and apart of him becomes jealous. Small and pure things worthy of touching the statue he made of them. But he isn’t. Even while sculpting them, the thought of ruining Tav with his unholy hands disgusted him, and he had to wear gloves. The replica of his private deity looks astonishing in this wintery mix, despite his personal feelings of the snow. While it decorates them like jewelry, it sizzles off of his skin. Another reminder of the divide between him and them. The holy, and the unholy.

He kneels in the thin and growing blanket of snow in-front of the statue, bowing his head and shutting his eyes. In his mine, he thinks of every curve and edge of them before him. How would they look down upon him? For they could not even gaze at him in their meetings, desperate for separation once more. Perhaps this is Raphaels way of earning just one glance or nod from them. Repenting in-front of an idol of them. He conjures their judgement. Those wings and those eyes that will finally meet his own, and see him as the man - not the devil. They are the only person he wishes to be truly seen by. Every fiendish instinct is shoved down in their overwhelming presence, leaving only the bare and utterly human Raphael. Would they look then, if he spilt his own hellish blood at the idols feet? Would they forgive him for his limitless sins if he spent hours before the idol, his head bowed in shame? How many nights of repentance must he go through, until he finally thinks himself worthy to run his bare hands along the stone image of them? Perhaps centuries, till he thinks himself worthy to press his lips against the stone. But he’ll never be worthy of the real thing, because he bows in-front of them, only to sin again when the daylight comes.

He does not know how much time passes as he sits there kneeling in-front of the statue of Tav. The snow has piled up around him, the heat that radiates from him no match for the furious cold. When he opens his eyes, it has blanketed around Tav, amounts of it still clinging on top of them. He rises, and a bare hand reaches out to brush some off, only to end up being lowered.

For these unholy hands will stain his angel, and if he were to touch them, he’d have to bow and repent again.

#bg3 writing #raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #raphael fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic idea #bg3 aasimar #Spotify

[im-657-mv]

the sun and the moon

yandere emperor park seonghwa

word count: 4025

sex scene does occur

amab afab are both included so just continue to scroll down once you get to the mark

Park Seonghwa never wanted a life of the material. Wealth, silks, and jewels were all meaningless in his eyes. It didn't matter that he was an emperor. A ruler who many seemed to adore and drool at the sight of. And it certainly didn't matter if he was constantly paraded and praised either. Gold coins and hand-picked flowers thrown as his horse carried him through the crowd. The people raising their hands in fever calling out his name with passion and adoration.

Park Seonghwa was not a man of leisure or luxury either. He found meaning in the beauty that surrounded him. The everlasting sun and its warm gaze. The moon and its calm blanket that wrapped both him and the night in.

He treasured real things. Love, romance, life. And he's dreamed of it all. The happily ever after, the warmth, the passion. Seonghwa has read countless books and tales of everlasting love. Love that could make the grounds shake beneath them and even make the tides change. Love that is unconditional. Love that exceeds the demands of time and death itself. Park Seonghwa has always wanted that. Not wealth nor power. Not praise nor glory. Just the hand of his lover encased in his own under the gaze of the world.

Since his coming-of-age celebration, his council of seven pressed for a marriage. Whether arranged or not, a bond was needed to make him appear stronger in the eyes of other nations. As pointless as it sounded to him, a spark of hope awoken deep inside him. All the stories engraved in his head were coming forward in his mind. Maybe this was finally the chance for love. True love. Not like the other times when prostitutes or other lowly whores would try to through themselves at him, dreaming of a night with the emperor.

Maybe, just maybe, he could find the person he was made to love.

From this point on he, along with his council, began searching for a person worthy of wedding. But it was only in the interest of the kingdom. It wasn't his love or his heart that were prioritized. They never were. And they never will be.

His dreams of love were destroyed. Day after day he met new candidates bashing their stupid eyelashes or trying to flirt obnoxiously at him in hopes of seducing him. The whole experience was dull, lifeless, and annoying.

How would he ever survive life at this rate? Without the promise of another… his heart couldn't bear that weight. The weight of a thousand gods with the agony of the raging seas abroad.

Seonghwa felt his life slip further and further away. Date after date, piece after piece. Emptier and emptier. Not even the sun brought its warmth. Nor the moon its comfort.

"Love-" He sniffled, "-is a l-lie…" The pure light of the moon lit his path as he walked further and further down into the green meadow. As he braced the harsh cold breeze he felt nothing compared to his aching heart and pounding head.

Tears fell across his red brazen cheeks. Seonghwa looked up, stopping in his tracks, as he gloomed at the seemingly once-perfect moon.

"All I've wanted," His knees buckled harshly into the ground painfully, "was love…" Seonghwa preached as if the moon itself could change that. As if the moon was capable of granting his every wish. It wouldn't hurt if he tried.

Seonghwa closed his wet teary eyes, and put every feeling and every fiber of want need into his wish.

…I wish for true love…

But nothing happened. He reopened his eyes and immediately felt worse than before as he gazed up upon the moon.

"Please…" He whispered desperately, hoping for some response, any response.

His once-full-of-life eyes closed again as the pain of his heart became almost too unbearable to withstand. His hands reached for the ground as he loomed over, curling in a position that made him seem smaller. Like a child, he cried holding himself as if he was made of glass. As if his whole consciousness was shattering. As if his very reality was breaking.

Seonghwa's loud sobs seemed neverending as they dulled out his surroundings. But unknowing to him, a figure slowly approached slowly. Curious, concerned, and ever so worried at the man whimpering before them. A mere stranger whose empathy washed over like a calm crusade of waves against the sand.

"It'll be okay…" Seonghwa didn't even bother to look up. He didn't have the strength to even try.

"How? Wh-when I have no-" Mid-sentence a soothing, and enlightening warm, hand was placed upon his mid-back. Seonghwa's spine tingled and seemed to light up on fire at the simple gesture.

He shifted his lump of a body around towards the affectionate voice of his rescuer, you…

Seonghwa's glistening glazed eyes refocused onto your own. And you were beautiful. Face full of affection. Of love? Of love… You were his wish come true. His gift from the moon. His little moon that came to rescue him from his despair.

But your expression changed all too soon for his liking.

"My Emperor-," You removed your hand and scooted away from him in shock, "Forgive me, my Emperor." You gathered yourself and bowed as low as you possibly could, forehead touching the ground in a sign of deep respect.

It took a while for Seonghwa to register what had happened with his thoughts still caught on your beauty.

"Please- don't be sorry." He whispered so softly that even you had trouble hearing him in the dead silence of the night.

"What's your name?" He murmured.

"Y/n, my Emperor."

Seonghwa hesitated, unsure of the words threatening to break loose from the tip of his tongue.

"Just hold me, Y/n" He whispered as he slowly climbed your way on all fours. A child crawling towards his mother. A lover crawling towards their lover.

You watch as time moved slowly as he made his way toward you. Who were you to deny the Emperor? Even though he appears vulnerable at a time like this, his powerful aura outweighs any words of resistance coming from your mouth.

His head lay on your shoulder as he positioned himself snuggly in between your legs clinging to your warm body.

You were frozen. Especially at the feeling of someone like him right up against you. The Emperor's actions would be deemed more than unorthodox in the eyes of the kingdom and his council. But here he lay in between your legs as if you've known him for centuries.

The fact is you were scared. In this situation, he held all the power no matter his state of mind. A person like yourself, with zero status, could be beaten for touching him like this. If you refused him what would happen to you? What would happen to your family?

All you had wanted this night was a still walk in the moonlight. Instead, you lay on the fresh grass with a powerful man capable of destroying your entire life, cuddling you.

But your consciousness felt somewhat responsible for him now. I mean how can you deny a person, no matter of status, the comfort that they needed?

Slowly you moved your arms around his obviously delicate body, encasing him in your presence. As you did so he moved further into your embrace, molding himself against your skin.

Arms wrapped around each other. Legs entangled upon the moon. And bodies intertwined within each other.

It confused you. An Emperor both great, kind, and strong, now laying here wounded, alone, and desperate. Never in your life would you have expected such a sight before you.

After a few moments of hushing and affirmations falling from your lips to his ears, he had finally calmed down. Your soothing whispers lulling him into a dream-like state.

"My Y/n. My moon." Seonghwa's voice rasped against the stillness of the meadow, breaking the long silence. He shifted his head now looking into your eyes. Your beautiful eyes. With a drag of his hand, he reached to your face cupping it… like a lover would…

The Emperor's eyes sparkled in a way you've never witnessed quite before with anyone else. It was deep and as grand as the mysteries of the night. His lips held a soft smile, pink and plush.

"My beautiful moon." He whispered again, but this time close enough for you to feel his warm breath against the cool of your skin.

"Why do you call me that my Emperor?" You spoke softly under his entrancing gaze afraid to speak any louder. You felt nervous, for the many stories of his appearance do not serve justice to the ungodly sight before you here. Here in the night under the watchful stars and the loving moon itself.

"I've been waiting for my chance of love. All my life dreaming of someone to share my every breath with. Someone to love, hold, and truly cherish unlike any other treasure known to man. The stories I've read cannot describe the feeling of what meeting your soulmate might feel like. But I understand now. Now I've found you. You are my moon as I am your sun. And my love for you will be neverending as so the stars in the sky. My moon, my rescuer, my soulmate."

And with that, he leaned ever so tenderly as he placed his lips to your own. Gentle, warm, and enticing were just a few of the words that came to mind. With the sway of his words and the shift of his lips, you were left unable to think for yourself.

The fears and worries you held close to your source of logic simply faded away as the seconds passed. His hands softly touched your waist and applied light pressure as his passion increased. The Emperor ravished your lips without fear of any consequence which in turn caused you to let go with him.

Unwilling Seonghwa pulled away with a light breathy chuckle that fanned across your blushing face.

"You look so beautiful." He said moving a strand of your hair away from your face.

"Come with me…" Seonghwa stood up pulling you along with a slight force that went unnoticed by you. Willing you followed though, not missing the twinge of fire sparkling deep within his seemingly kind eyes.

“My Emperor-“

“Call me Seonghwa.”

“Yes, Seonghwa.” Your heart fluttered at calling him his true name instead of a title. It made everything more exciting, thrilling, and sincere.

The both of you kept walking together, hand in hand unwilling to let go for even a second. The comfortable silence and the occasional glances at each other made you giggle as Seonghwa led you ways away from where you two once lay.

The place he kept on walking towards was a mystery to you but it didn't matter. Questions, reason, and logic were all thrown out the window the moment his lips touched yours. For some reason, your mind could not think of any red flags, and it wasn't like you wanted to see them anyway.

The way, he spoke about love, true love, had you questioning everything you’ve ever known to be true about it. Of course, you’ve had past relationships before, but none of them measured up to this interaction. Seonghwa had dethroned them all within a single night, within a single kiss.

You too had dreamed of a whirlwind romance. Something out of fairytales laced with eternal love that lasts longer than life itself. Was this it? Was this the romance you’d dreamt of? Was Seonghwa your meant to be? But it felt all too good to be true…

The castle was within a few minutes of walking and you finally seemed to snap back awake from your trance. What was happening? Confusion formed on your face as your grip on Seonghwa's hand loosened.

But he felt it. His grip tightened harshly as you hissed in slight pain at the new pressure applied. All he did though was turn his head towards you in an innocent smile that reached all the way up to his eyes.

"Seonghwa-"

"Yes, my love."

"Can we please stop?" You whispered clearly, but all he did was chuckle in response as he tugged you alongside him.

"Seonghwa-"

"Just wait, we're almost home." He cheered happily, tightening his hold on you even more so, as he deliberately ignored your plea.

"Seonghwa I said can we stop, please? I don't think this-"

With a one-eighty turn, he faced you with a craze in his eyes that shut you up immediately. You tried to pull back to get him to lose his hold on you, but he just stared you down.

"Seonghwa I have a family. A home. I- I don't even know you that well. We just met. I-."

"You think I care? You are my love. My gift from the moon." He said with a fire burning his tongue and eyes that began to water again.

"I had wanted love since the moment I was born " He whispered as a crazed smile formed under the moonlight. "You are for me to love. And we are going to live together and love each other and be together until this world burns." Seonghwa chuckled as he took light steps towards you searching your eyes for any reciprocation.

"I love you, Y/n. I love you so, so, so much."

Your breathing increased as you tried to walk back from him as he took the same steps toward you. Seonghwa's deathly grip on your hand remained as he continued his I love you's-

"You are my soulmate, Y/n. You can't just leave me. You can't just leave me after the moon gave you to me. Can't you see we are meant to be? Even the sun and moon say so. Even the gods have to agree." Your eyes widened as he kept on talking about your fate together. But all you could think of was your family, your home, your life.

"Seonghwa please, just let go and we can talk about this-"

"No!" He yelled with a new fever as he animalisticly lunged for your other arm to entrap, but you had moved out of the way causing him to plunge to the ground, letting your hand go in the process. With a new sense of urgency, you fucking booked it trying to get as far away as possible from him.

"Don't leave me!" Seonghwa roared as he got up quicker than expected. Your heartbeat increased as you tried to quicken your feet to go faster.

"You can't leave me, Y/n!" Seonghwa yelled as his speed dramatically increased. Not even two seconds had passed as you heard his heavy footsteps behind you. You tried to speed up but it was too late.

With the speed of light, Seonghwa leaped forward catching your body as he took you down with him. As you both tumbled to the ground, Seonghwa slithered upright pulling your ankles back to him as he got on top of you and straddled your body, caging you with his weight.

"You are not fucking leaving me." He whispered aggressively, panting as he grabbed the sides of your head, making sure you were looking at him.

You struggled underneath him for a few moments before deciding to give up. He was obviously stronger than you and it was pointless to try. With a loss of hope, you began to cry as you tried to pathetically remove his dirty hands from your face.

"Sh sh sh shhh-" He whispered lovingly, forcefully as he pressed his face against your own like a cat marking its territory.

"My moon. My moon. My moon. My moon." Seonghwa repeated as he nuzzled your face moving to your neck breathing your sweaty musk in.

"I am going to love you." A kiss.

"And adore you." A kiss.

"And please you." A kiss.

"Until the gods have to rip me away from you," Seonghea whispered against your neck as he sucked making sure to nip at your skin leaving a purple-red mark in its place.

"Seonghwa… Please…" You begged with tears falling from your eyes. But he never stopped. His hands skid across yours pushing them into the ground above your head. You felt so helpless, so pathetic as he laced every inch of your face and neck with kisses and hickies.

"My. Precious. Moon." He looked down at you admiring you, his work of art, his gift.

With adoration and love, Seonghwa started to undress slowly under the loving moon, never taking his eyes off yours. And once that was completed he undressed you too, slowly pealing every layer off your body. He was so proud you didn't even fight him on it. You must love him too then.

"You look so beautiful, Y/n." He whispered as he trailed new kisses against your body. This time was different though. Instead of your neck he trailed them down to your chest leaving more marks on your body.

Seonghwa moved to your nippled playfully suckling it as his hand gave attention to the other one. You hated it. You hated yourself even more so for enjoying it.

His delicate tongue danced across your skin in a way that no one else even came close to. And as his mouth traveled further and further down south, you couldn't help but anticipate with lust the things that were about to take place, under the stars.

amab

Seonghwa gripped your waist with such feeling as his mouth reached closer and closer to your half-hardened dick. But all he did was stare. Not at your face, not into your eyes, but at it. And his eyes had a hunger like no other brewing in him that you knew was bound to explode any second.

With love-crazed eyes, his mouth opened slightly blowing gently in order to elicit a response from you. As you shivered at the action, Seonghwa started to place light butterfly kisses all around, not missing a single inch. And within a few seconds, your cock was hard, leaking pre-cum, and waiting with eagerness at the thought of his pretty mouth touching the very thing that was now painfully aching.

"Your dick is so pretty, baby." He whispered, warm breath fanning across it as it twitched in return.

"Seonghwa…" You manage to breathe out, unable to focus on anything other than the man in between your legs, and the throbbing sensation now overwhelming all your other senses.

"It hurts doesn't it, baby," Seonghwa whispers moving up back to your mouth, passionately kissing and exploring it. You moan into the kiss wanting everything he can offer and more.

With light fingers, Seonghwa traces the tip causing a gasp to escape your mouth with ease.

"Let me help you, Y/n." His light traces are replaced with a slow tantalizing grip moving up and down too slowly.

"Make me feel good, Seonghwa." You manage to moan breathlessly out for him.

"Anything for you, my moon." And with that, he returns to your hard problem, trading his hands for his pretty mouth making you release a guttural sound at the feeling.

His tongue, his mouth, and his movement felt all too good. And with every passing second his pace fastens causing you to grip the grass as the pleasure increases overwhelmingly so.

Seonghwa's tongue swirls and licks your dick as his mouth fastens around your throbbing cock and at this point, you can't hold anything back anymore.

Groans, moans, and other gutturals escape without caution from your mouth and you can tell that he's enjoying it too. Your hips start to move at the pace he sets and you can't help but buck into his mouth, fucking it in the process. The tightening coil in your stomach feels as if it's going to rupture into Seonghwa's beautiful mouth.

Faster and faster Seonghwa goes, placing his hands on your hips to keep both you and him steady. More and more moans spill from your mouth as you're about to come undone. With one last thrust and one last lustful suck, you spill your seed into his hungry mouth going dizzy as the stars blur together.

Breathless and light-headed you stare up at the moon eyes closed and a shaking mess as Seonghwa continues to suck your dick, making sure to milk you dry, taking every last drop for himself.

As he finishes his feast, he comes back up and kisses you passionately again as he lays to rest on top of you.

"We are going to live happily ever after, my Y/n," Seonghwa whispers. And at this point, you can't even think about the consequences of your actions. Nothing is in your mind other than the pleasure that occurred and the sleepiness that takes a toll.

afab

Seonghwa gripped your waist with such feeling as his mouth reached closer and closer to your core. But all he did was stare. Not at your face, not into your eyes, but at it. And his eyes had a hunger like no other brewing in him that you knew was bound to explode any second.

With love-crazed eyes, his mouth opened slightly blowing gently on your wet cunt in order to elicit a response from you. As you shivered at the action, Seonghwa dipped his face further in between your legs breathing in your aroma, breathing in your lust. It was becoming unbearable as his nose brushed upon your clit every few seconds. You were aching at the simplest of touches.

"Your pussy is so pretty, baby." He whispered, warm breath fanning across it as it groaned in return.

"Seonghwa…" You manage to breathe out, unable to focus on anything other than the man in between your legs, and the throbbing sensation now overwhelming all your other senses.

"It hurts doesn't it, baby," Seonghwa whispers moving up back to your mouth, passionately kissing and exploring it. You moan into the kiss wanting everything he can offer and more.

With light fingers, Seonghwa traces your slit, moving up and down, causing a gasp to escape your mouth with ease.

"Let me help you, Y/n." His light traces are soon replaced with his starved mouth making sure to lick up all the essence that you produce.

"Make me feel good, Seonghwa." You manage to moan breathlessly out for him.

"Anything for you, my moon." And with that, he returns to your aching problem, trading his slower movements for more sharp and precise ones using his talented tongue to make guttural sounds escape your mouth.

His tongue, his mouth, and his movement felt all too good. And with every passing second his pace fastens causing you to grip the grass as the pleasure increases overwhelmingly so.

Seonghwa's tongue swirls and licks your needy cunt as he continues to ravish you.

Groans, moans, and other gutturals escape without caution from your mouth and you can tell that he's enjoying it too. Your hips start to move at the pace he sets and you can't help but buck into his mouth, fucking it in the process. The tightening coil in your stomach feels as if it's going to rupture into Seonghwa's beautiful mouth any time soon.

Faster and faster Seonghwa goes, placing his hands on your hips to keep both you and him steady. More and more moans spill from your mouth as you're about to come undone. With one last lick and one last lustful suck, you orgasm seeing the stars blur together in a dizzy whirlwind.

Breathless and light-headed you stare up at the moon eyes closed and a panting mess as Seonghwa continues to lap up your essence, making sure to drink it all, taking every last drop for himself.

As he finishes his feast he comes back up and kisses you passionately again as he lays to rest on top of you.

"We are going to live happily ever after, my Y/n," Seonghwa whispers. And at this point, you can't even think about the consequences of your actions. Nothing is in your mind other than the pleasure that occurred and the sleepiness that takes a toll.

#yandere seonghwa #yandere ateez #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x male reader #yandere seonghwa x reader #yandere kpop

[murder-cookie-dust393]

Now, I would know better than anyone how a pianist works, so NO ONE can say I'm wrong. If you don't understand the following terms and concepts, that's fine because it's only there for detail and not the main events.

Birthday/Holiday fic of my latest obsession Crème brûlée

Ignored Duet

Synopsis: MC is a pianist on a train with a bunch of musician friends to go have a grand performance the day before the holidays. Yet MC shares a one-sided rivalry with Crème brûlée. But Crème brûlée doesn't like this rivalry, at all.

Words: 2.7K (rounded)

Tw: murder, poisoning, breaking into people's rooms, delusions, non-explicit violence, beheading, blood, Poison Mushroom is a hallucinogen dealer

You sighed and sat down on a chair in your suite. You were tired from settling down in your suite, after having to haul your luggage to the very back of the train. You really did love the interior of the train though, it was luxury. Even better, all your musician friends were on the train too! All of you headed towards the same destination for a big performance.

As a skilled pianist yourself, you were excited to have a special recital the Eve before the Christmas holiday. People were going to be cheering and complimenting you, it always boosted your mood. It made you feel worthy about yourself.

But of course, there was always someone who ruined everything. Someone who always stole the spotlight; someone who ruined your mood and self-esteem more than anyone else. That someone being none other than Crème brûlée cookie.

He was always the star of the show whenever he arrived. With his blank demeanour and introverted personality, he somehow, somehow got the admiring of others. What irked you the most was you yourself knew how perfect he got his technique to be. Every single articulation and note. You hated how he held the rigid, textbook-like principles to heart rather than the emotion itself.

You've eyed his sheet music before, dotted with neat handwriting and circles to perfection. It was as if his entire being was laughing at you for how perfect he could become at playing an instrument of keys.

Ever since you were young, you were praised for how emotional and artistic you could play. How dramatic the motions of your hands and tone were. How you could make people cry from the pure essence you carried.

But ever since you debuted, those compliments have grown fewer in numbers. Precisely because those praises were directed towards Crème brûlée. You knew the importance of technique and the technical parts of playing, but he was completely expressionless during his performances. He didn't shift himself to the sound of the melodies and harmonies, no, he didn't even move his hand like a feather to express lightheartedness. He was utterly rocky with his playing. Hardly any room for beauty.

And yet the people and the judges loved him for it. You hated him.

You sighed as you grabbed the blanket you brought along for the trip, snuggling underneath it. Your body absorbs all the warmth produced by the blanket.

For now, you aren't going to give a single fuck about this bastard.

——————————————————

Crème brûlée silently entered your suite, his eyes holding a look of swirling obsession. He approached the place where you lay, sleeping. He smiles and watches you, occasionally adjusting the blanket seated upon your body. You were more eye-catching to him than the girl with flaxen hair sir Claude composed dearly for.

But there was one thing he hated undeniably about you. It was the fact you mistook his obvious efforts. He wasn't trying to one-up you, no, he was trying to get close to you as much as possible. He didn't want to be enemies, he wanted to be the one glued to your side forever and ever. He craved the life his colleague Mint Choco had. A comfortable life with his other piece. Yet that damned one-sided rivalry you had for him divided him away from you.

He's tired of it. He's sick of it. He wants to yell at you, scream at you, rage at you that he's so sick of being seen as a villain. He knows better than to do that, of course. He simply needs to be more direct with his love it seems.

He leans in and pecks your cheek with the lightest of touches, his arms loosely resting on top of your body. His eyes lock onto your face for a solid moment before he stands up, taking out the note he had written for you. It was dotted with hearts and bunny stickers. Perhaps a bit childish for someone as sophisticated as he was, but he still thought it was cute.

He then left the suite with a little smile on his face, silently walking down the train hall with excitement bouncing within his mind. Fortunately, no one saw him, and no one noticed a single thing out of place.

——————————————————

You wake up after falling in and out of sleep for the last hour. You don't feel like getting out of bed, it's too comfy. But it's also boring just laying here, as you can't fall asleep anymore. You decide to grab the book you brought along with you. You sit up, reaching for the book titled, "How to Sell Poison Shroomies", until you see a note.

The note is dotted with hearts and bunny stickers, all the cutesy stuff you could imagine. But the contents of the note were odd. It was a treble clef, with some letters below it. In between the letters were a few blank spaces, and above those blank spaces were notes. It was very similar to the note-naming practice sheets you had to do as a kid.

Without decoding it, you tried to see what it said.

_ _ R L I N _ ! I T R _ _ L L Y T I R _ S M _ TO H _ V _ Y O U

I _ N O R _ M _ L I K _ T H I S. I W _ N T T O _ _ Y O U R O N _

_ N _ O N L Y L O V _ R!

You answered each blank, coordinating the note to its letter name. After decoding it, you read the message again.

DARLING! IT REALLY TIRES ME TO HAVE YOU IGNORE ME LIKE THIS. I WANT TO BE YOUR ONE AND ONLY LOVER!

You grimace, disgusted. A creep entered your suite and you don't even know who it is. What's worse is: that most of the cookies on this train were musicians of some sort. There was; Parfair, Black Lemonade, Mint Choco, Macaron, Carol, Rockstar, and that disgusting degenerate, Crème brûlée.

You sigh. Your life couldn't have gotten any more annoying.

——————————————————

Crème brûlée was excited as he went to the dining car for food. Even if he didn't change his avid poker face, he was still bouncing around inside. He decided to sit himself at the table next to yours, making sure to look nice and tidy. He can't be ruining himself after all! He needs to be perfect!

When he glanced himself over at you though, he felt a little discouraged. You look annoyed like something went completely wrong. He was a bit worried. Did someone make you feel bad about yourself?

He then spoke with a calm tone, "MC? What's wrong? You look a little out of it." He unmasked the poker face and made a little frown. He was trying his best to express his worry.

"Nothing. I just hit my leg earlier."

Your response was so harsh, so cold. He felt his heart drop and maybe break a little. Did you not see his note? He hoped you would finally change, but it seems you haven't! The horror! He turned back to his food, staring at it.

Was it the cutesy bunny stickers? Was it too much? He thought you wouldn't mind his little effort in trying to make it look nice. Unless...No, you possibly couldn't have, right?

He glanced over at Parfait and noticed the bunny charm in her hair. No, no, no! You must have mistaken his note as Parfait's! The gears in his mind whirl as he tries to think of another plan.

What if he gets rid of the possibility? If he gets rid of Parfait, then naturally you would think the bunny stickers were from him, right? It's just the process of elimination.

He smiles as he cooks up a way to terminate Parfait from your life. Permanently.

——————————————————

In the evening, everybody was having a little card party. A feisty round of Uno, with everybody screaming at each other in rage. A true act of comedy. That was until a blood-curdling scream came from Rockstar, who was on the way to grab something from Parfait.

"P-Parfait's been killed to crumbs!" Rockstar shouted as he pointed to the suite. Which was covered everywhere in blood, and her head rolled off to a corner of the room. A scene one too many levels gory.

Within moments cookies are surrounding Parfait's suite; disgusted, horrified, saddened, and all sorts of negative emotions. Even Crème brûlée looked scared. They all look at each other, trying to suspect a culprit. No one stood too close to each other, not even Carol, who was one of the nicest cookies ever.

Until you notice something odd about the crime scene. You notice the bunny charm that Parfait had worn in her hair earlier that day. It stared back at you, its cute smile plastered on its face. Surrounding the charm was a blood stain shaped into a heart.

Your heart freezes.

That bunny. That fucking bunny sticker on that note this morning.

The killer was awake and was prowling for you.

——————————————————

You couldn't sleep. You didn't know what to do. On one hand, you wanted to tell the others about your discovery, but the killer might come for you faster than before. Your only option was to wait it out until you arrived at your destination, playing a horrid game of survival. The biggest thing is that you need to find out who the killer is.

You take the note off the table, staring at it. You observe every line and curve of the sender's handwriting. It was neat, but messy on a few edges. You started to eliminate cookies in your head that you didn't think matched the handwriting. It couldn't be Carol or Macaron for sure, they had pretty and consistent writing.

Your only suspects remaining were Black Lemonade, Mint Choco, Rockstar, and Crème brûlée. You've seen Rockstar's handwriting before. It was god awful, literally a bunch of scribbles and lightning bolts. So it couldn't be him. Mint Choco wrote in cursive only, so you doubted it was him either.

You were left with two cookies now: Black Lemonade and Crème brûlée. You've seen Crème brûlée's handwriting before, on his sheet music. It was never consistent. Sometimes it was fabulous print and other times looked like a hurried cursive. But he was your enemy, and he would never spend time writing a cutesy love note. Although...you did remember hearing him get accused of murder last year's Christmas.

You don't think it's him. He's too much of a cocky bastard to care about such things. Then it could only mean...Black Lemonade.

It would make sense, considering they were at Summer Soda Fest together. Black Lemonade might of had a bad interaction with Parfait. But you need someone who was there to tell you if they knew anything about the event. Aha! Rockstar. He would know any tension between the two guitarists.

——————————————————

The next day, you discreetly knock on Rockstar's suite door. He opens the sliding door a minute later, managing to smile during these grim times. After seating yourself on a seat, you hold out the note to him, showing the offsetting love note you got.

"So yesterday morning, I got this note from someone. Do you see the bunny stickers? Well, Parfait had a bunny charm in her hair yesterday." You explain, emphasizing the shiny bunny stickers that were dotted all over the paper.

"Yeah, I noticed the bunny charm at the body last night. Do you have a suspect?" He answers, sipping on a can of soda.

"I do. But I don't know for sure yet. Was there any tension between Black Lemonade and Parfait?"

He hums for a moment, thinking. It takes a few seconds before he shakes his head, "Nah, not that I can remember. I don't think interacted a lot in the first place."

You freeze for a second. You stare at him before quiet mumbling, "No? Then that can only mean...No it can't be, I-" You blink, wondering if you should tell him, "Could it be Crème brûlée?"

He glances at the note again before shifting his eyes back to you. "I don't know him that well, but I doubt it. He's kind of...isolated. Plus, he never seemed malicious to Parfait."

"Then who could it be..." You grab onto the door handle, slowly opening it. "Well, thanks for helping. I need to find the killer soon."

As you leave his suite and head back to yours, your own intuition feels like something is off. The suspects and the handwriting weren't adding up right. Could it be someone not even a part of the passengers? That's a whole new gate of hell that you didn't want to enter quite just yet. You open the door and lay down on your makeshift bed. Letting the paper flutter to the ground.

You stared up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to suck out details from past interactions and your own knowledge. That is until you hear a creak. You look beneath your bed out of curiosity and see nothing. It was probably a squeak from the train.

"Do you like ignoring me?"

The voice made you flinch, you flip your head to see Crème brûlée standing there with a frown. How did he get in here? You had your door locked due to protocols.

"Crème brûlée? How did you get in here?"

"Stop ignoring me. I hate it." His voice is sharp, cutting through your question. He approaches you, picking up the note off the floor. He shoves it in front of your face. "I wrote this. Not Parfait, not Black Lemonade, not Mint Choco, not anyone but me."

Your body feels like it's encased in cement. You couldn't move as you stared at him with widened eyes. "You...killed Parfait?" Terror pounds through your veins. You back away from him, your back hitting against the wall. "Wha- Why would you do such a thing?" This was working out a lot worse than you had thought it would be.

"Because, you mistook my precious, my sweet and thoughtful note as Parfait's!" He suddenly exclaimed, a look of madness bouncing around his expression. "You were supposed to be loving me! I originally planned for us to nerd out on Brahms literature, but instead here you are trying to play detective for a worthless crime case."

For a period you couldn't respond, speechless from his words. What kind of delusional narcissist was he? Did he really believe you'll instantly fall in love with him after you realize the note was from him? Of course the fuck not! In a state of anger, you pounce on him. Hitting his face and shoulders as much as you could. But instead of pain or hurt, his face depicted laughter.

"Darling, darling, your hits won't work on me. My dough is a lot stiffer than you would think." He pushed you off of him, and before you could regain your footing he was hugging you tight, smiling. "No need to care now, they're all going to be dead soon."

In a state of rage and grief, you scream at him, "What do you mean them? Who? You heartless monster!" You struggle in his grasp, trying to wriggle away. He was right, he seemed to be much stronger than he looked.

"Oh, just a few poison shrooms in breakfast. A little kid told me to take some when I was rambling about my jealousy the other day." He caressed the hair on your head. This was the longest you've ever seen him smiling. "Don't worry, I calculated which plate would go to your suite so you aren't poisoned.

You've lost the energy to fight anymore. Your friends were all going to vanish soon. And you had no way to help them. On a train, in the stupid snow of the middle of nowhere. It was as if your own luck was laughing at you. The performance you were so excited about was just a mere side note.

"How could you? How fucking could you?" You mumble, feeling too drained to scream and shout at him. You didn't want to even look at this wretched murderer.

"Shh...I know you were so excited about the performance, I know. We can have our own little recital in the banquet car. Just you and me. I even brought a few duet books for us to sight read too." He giggled, kissing your cheek. "You know, bonding time."

You slumped down onto his shoulder, exhausted. Dead inside. What a merry holiday it was.

——————————————————

We're not gonna talk about the child with the mental capacity of a 9 year old driving the fucking train (Yes it's Poison Mushroom)

Dude writing this was literally digging a plot hole, and filling it. And repeat that 10 times. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

I have to wait 2 more hours before my birthday presents- shit fuck.

- Celina

#cookie run #yandere cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run x reader #crk #yandere x reader #yandere #crk x reader #crème brûlée cookie #Crème brûlée cookie x reader