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notthestarwar · 9 months

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@dukeoftheblackstar and heres another snippet from the same fic which i think gives a kinda sympathetic view to mace. i've taken this straight from my drafts so i'll leave the old tags there. now i'm gonna reblog some pro mace posts lol but i wont tag you in those cause i think i've probably tagged you in enough at this point lol

This snippet is from 'When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it'

It's from Chapter 7, ghost Mace is explaining to past Jaster what he knows of Jango's life, in the future. Here, he's describing the moment he killed Jango and his feelings in the aftermath.

In the midst of the battle, a man started shooting at me. We fought, it was a brutal thing, I was barely keeping up in spite of the Force. I did not know who he was or why he was shooting for me but I did know that if I ceded any space at all, he would take it and I would be dead.

In the end, I came out on top. I can't say I was intending for it, I was just trying to make contact in any place I could, but I caught him with my saber between his helmet and chest plate. He died, after I decapitated him and it wasn't until after the fact that I discovered that he was the one I had been searching for all those years before.

As a young Knight I set out to bring Jango Fett home, to right a wrong, but I was unable to find him. I had thought of him, often. The wrong I had not been able to right for my people. The man I could not save. And then, I stepped on to a dusty planet that I hardly knew, for reasons I hardly understood and I killed a man.

Jaster swallows. When Mace looks at him, honestly paints his face and regret curls at the edges.

"Quite without knowing it, I had killed the one I hadn't been able to save, years after the fact."

His son.

"I hadn't saved him but he survived all the same. He didn't need me to save him, he'd saved himself. I'd thought him dead but he lived to walk up to me all those years later. He survived that slave ship so that he might die at my hand years later."

The fact that he's sorry for it doesn't really cushion the blow. This is the man that killed his son. He is dead because of Jango but in a far off future, Jango is dead because of him.

How did he die? This Jedi? He had time to discover Jango's identity after the battle so he must have survived it. Did he later die of wounds Jango gave him? Jaster thinks not. None of this has been easy, none of this is simple. There remains a weight in the air, the burden of the remainder of Jango's story. An oddity considering it should end here.

He looks back to Windu, watching his face.

"I did not mean to kill your son Jaster. I meant to save him, but I was quite unable. The idea of him haunted me as steadily as any ghost and then, I killed him. I didn't know who he was when I struck and I did not know when he fell that he had already killed me, long before that day. It would be three years before my heart would stop but I was dead from the day Jango Fett landed on Kamino."

"I did not intend it, but I did it all the same. I am sorry that I killed him and I have to live with that regret even now, in death. I remain here knowing that I killed the man I was intending to save, the man who I had never forgotten failing."

Jaster is a warrior. He knows what a fight to the death is like. He has known the ferocity that an adult Jango would hold long before he knew that in a later time, the galaxy would know his son as 'The Jedi killer'. What a title. Jaster had not wanted this life, the one that from Mace's perspective has already passed, for his son. He wanted something kinder, easier, for him. It hadn't happened. Jaster had been unable to give that to him.

Mace didn't have any choice but to kill him but, all the same, as a father it is Jaster's right to hate him, just a little, for taking his sons life.

Jango deserved better than the galaxy that had delivered him to this Jedi on that day. He deserved better than the life that had shaped him in to the man that would attack this Jedi and lose. He deserved, parents that wouldn't die before he had finished growing, a second chance that worked out differently. He deserved everything and anything Jaster could give him and maybe, even that could not be enough. Could never be enough.

Mace looked at him. "Everyone in that hall is there because Jango is responsible for their death. I am not sure if the same can be said for me. Jango is responsible for my death but is that the reason I linger?"

The Jedi looks far away. "He haunted me far before he ever died and now I haunt him far before he ever killed me. He lined up the pieces of my death long before I met him in that arena. And I killed him long before he killed me. Time is not linear for the dead, but in the case of Jango and I it is even less so. The story of our haunting is a circular thing and in truth, I can not really say who of us is haunting who

He meets Jaster's eyes. "We are here to discuss why we haunt Jango. But it would be remiss of me to not tell you that your son has haunted me every single day since I left on a mission to retrieve him, to try and offer reparations for what my peoples neglect brought down on him, and came home empty handed."

"We thought him dead, but I did not forget him. From that day, I've carried the weight of what we did to him. I have often thought of him over the years. You hold no blame here, but we just might."

I love this bit. To me it's very clear that Jango's death was largely Jango's fault. In this fic, Mace finds himself on Galidraan with little understanding of why he's there, just trying to act in the moment to defend himself and other Jedi. Jango starts shooting at him, clearly shooting to kill. Mace knows that he's in danger, he knows that if he dies (because Jango intends for one of them to die. He will not stop until one of them is dead.) Jango will go on to kill more Jedi until one of them gets the upper hand, and so Mace acts in a way that is very understandable and defends his life with all he has. He's reacting rather than planning any of this, Jango is not giving him a chance to think about any of it, so when Jango is about to get the upper hand, Mace takes the only move available to him, and goes for his neck.

It's understandable, he had no choice, and yet, because of who Mace is, I think he'd find it very difficult to come to terms with having killed someone in that way. It's horribly violent (lightsaber deaths always seem to be??? Decapitation isn't quite bisection but it's not great. However, I think such a thing would be even harder for Mace to confront than it was for Obi Wan.) and I think Mace would struggle to accept that he really didn't have any choice, and anyone would have done the same.

And then!!! This Mace, is a Mace that has been metaphorically haunted by Jango ever since he 'failed to save him'. To know that Jango was out there to find all along and Mace just didn't manage it? That Jango didn't need Mace to escape, but that he suffered for longer thanks to his own rescue being left to him. That in that suffering, he became the kind of man, that would be in the arena, forcing Mace to kill him. That had Mace done anything about this constant reminder (was that a sign? From the force?) of Jango for all these years, he could have helped Jango. He might have stopped him doing what he did with the clones. He might have helped him process what had happened, so that Jango didn't end up on a suicide mission, determined to throw himself head first in to fights he can barely win, only so he can try and repent for not dying with the rest of them, the first time or the second.

Mace was a master Jedi, if anyone could help someone work through trauma, it was him. (His struggle to process it all himself is 100% not a sign of his ability. You can understand how to healthily process emotions to the n th degree, but it won't stop you being human and falling to human difficulties. He is the best person to help anyone else through this stuff, but when it comes to himself, he's too close. That's why Jedi help each other work through stuff.) But Mace wasn't there, because he didn't think Jango was out there. In spite of this constant lingering reminder at every step, he didn't look. And so Jango carried on, hating that he survived, living only to carry out this corrupted form of justice, until he finally met the end that he thought he should have met years before.

Mace couldn't help him, and then, he ended up doing the worst thing possible for him. He gave him this violent death, that in Jango's grief and pain, he was sure he deserved. I just think the more Mace learnt about Jango, after finding out he's just killed the man he thought had died thanks to his failure all those years before, going on to see the depths of what happened to Jango, what it made him, the more responsible he'd feel. If he'd only found him. What he went through on the ship. What the clones went through. All those years hating himself for surviving. Boba, who Jango wanted in spite of his self hated, who he loved so fiercely but could NOT do right by.

I think Mace would look at each part of it and a part of him would be like 'none of this had to happen. If you'd done your job, you could have saved him from that ship, from becoming this. You would have spared him from himself, but also the clones, Boba, everyone else he hurt.' I do think he would have known that this wasn't rational, and would have worked through it, been working through it, as he lived on and more and more things crept out of the woodwork to remind Mace of his one failure. Each revelation about jango is something else Mace might have prevented.

And then, Mace's death at palpatines hand. He speaks to the other ghosts and suddenly he sees. He sees the big picture. What Jango did to him, did to his people.

Mace has it completely right when he looks at this haunting as a circular thing. Who is haunting who? Time isn't linear for ghosts. He was haunting Jango from the start, but also, Mace didn't start haunting Jango till he'd already killed him. Mace not being able to forget that mission early in his career, the boy he hadn't been able to save. Was that bog standard guilt? His brain kicking up dust? Or was it the force warning him that Jango was out there, that he should look. Was it neither? As a force sensitive could Mace feel his future self, pulled back in time by his connection to Jango? Was the feeling of Jango haunting him, actually his own ghost, obsessed with the man he was tied to, the one responsible for his death.

He and Jango orbit each other before either of them are dead in a way the other ghosts don't. But it being uncertain who's haunting who? That's true of all the ghosts. Jango haunts them just as much they do him. They are ghosts because they can't let go of him and he can't let go of what he did to them.

#I've been thinking about this #cause i saw a post talking about who's fault Jango's death was (i think it was a poll?)#anyway i have very strong feelings about this. because i very much do think that Jango was never surviving to see the war #he'd done his bit dooku didn't need him. i don't think dooku set up his death at Mace's hand. but i do think that he knew the man Jango was #and knew that by placing him in that arena; he'd get himself killed. arena full of Jedi. Jango always would have tried to fight them and #it would always be a fight to the death. because of who he was. his pride & he didn't care about surviving enough to walk away from a fight #he was too intelligent to not know he wasn't getting out alive. tangle with nasty ppl you wind up dead when they don't need you.#& he knew bad ppl well. but he never tried to get away. i think that was cause a part of him wanted to die. he walked in to that death #i do think he loved Boba. but i think he hated himself hated that he'd survived everyone. more. think he'd convince himself boba was better #with him dead. so i don't think mace had any hand in Jango's death really. if not him it would have been someone else. Jango would have #created that situation with anyone. HOWEVER #i don't think Mace would see it that way. i think he'd struggle to accept that he did the only thing he could and i think the understanding #that it was him or Jango BECAUSE Jango was determined to die & take out as many Jedi on the way out as possible. would make it harder for #him to accept. he completely played in to this suicidal impulse. Jango was a sentient in pain who needed help. mace wants to be someone who #helps.but instead he let himself be played.he was the sword and the hand that held it and he killed him in a particularly violent move #(which i think was unavoidable in the moment. if he'd delayed he would have died he was acting not thinking. Jango made it so.)#it was not Maces fault but i think he'd struggle to accept that even when knowing it objectively.if it were another Jedi he'd help them see #but for himself it's hard to come to terms with. knowing that dying in such a violent manner was what Jango thought he deserved #i think would make mace feel like he'd been the worst version of himself in that moment and someone he could have helped payed for that #it was fun to explore in this fic cause mace had been sent out to find Jango after galidraan and it had stuck with him as a failed mission #early in his career. in the time since he's done all these amazing things but he always remembered boy he couldn't save at the start #and then. years later. mace ends up inadvertently killing that same man. he doesn't know who Jango is.he has no idea that he survived until #he's already dead at Mace's hand. i think theres a horrible sense of neatness to it all.#so yeah! i don't think mace is guilty but i think he's the kind of person that would feel he was all the same #Mace is great #part 3

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dreamlifebunny · 6 months

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how to script your dream life and use it with any method!

hello friends! today i want to share with you how i personally script my dream life, and how this script is both my void list, states list, and precursor to almost every manifestation method i've ever used. i love scripting because it is not only a method in and of itself but it is also a simple list of everything you desire that you can now manifest using any method you love!

check back later for a link to my scripting templates. in the meantime, here are the steps to creating your perfect script from scratch with examples! all you need is a place to write it down.

step one:

time to brain dump! at the top of your page, write out every desire that comes to your head in list format. don't overthink it and don't worry if they sound silly or unrealistic; remember, absolutely anything is possible! you can write out a few desires to start or go hardcore and write out hundreds, whatever you feel inspired by. you can always come back to this step later. here is my example:

step two:

now its time to get organized! look at the desires you've written and figure out what subcategories they fall under. for example, "my eyes are light blue and gorgeous" could fall under the category of "appearance," and "i have $100,000 in my bank account" could fall under the category of "wealth and items." feel free to use any category name that makes sense to you.

step three:

now that you have a couple of categories written out and understand the structure of the script, your mind might start to have even more ideas. "ooh, now that i see revision is a category, there are a couple more things i'd like to revise..." or "why stop at one SP when i could have everyone chasing after me?" for step three, we go a little deeper into these categories and add more details of what our dream life will look like. you can also add new categories that pop into your head - in the example below, i've added "the world and society" and "skills and abilities."

note: the reason why i broke this up into multiple steps instead of just writing "write out all your desires at once" is because our brains can be mean to us and make us procrastinate if something isn't done "perfectly," so that's why adding an extra step is important to bypass the perfectionism.

optional steps:

because scripting is such a creative and expansive process, we might think of ideas we'd like to manifest in the future but not right now/not instantly. i like to organize my script further by adding another category: "future manifestations." these are ideas that i would love to manifest at some point later on but not necessarily while my dream life is manifesting right now.

another idea is separating categories even further into "instant manifestations" (manifestations that happen right now without things needing to unfold) or "perfect timing manifestations" (manifestations that slowly unfold naturally and linearly), if you want to get specific about how they show up in your life! however, these steps are completely optional and just fun details for specificity, and i can make a more detailed post on this later.

how you can use your script with any method:

scripting has been used as a successful manifesting and shifting method on its own forever because it specifically addresses one of the most important steps in the manifesting process - deciding what you want! by writing out what you want in your dream life, you can now decide that your script will manifest on its own or you can use any method under the sun to fulfill yourself within:

the void state: if you enter the void state to manifest, you could affirm "i have everything in my dream life script"

affirming: you can affirm "everything in my dream life script has come true"

visualization: you could create an imaginative scene where all of your desires from your script are fulfilled, or you can imagine looking at your script and smiling because everything came true

subliminals: you can create a very simple subliminal where all of your desires are included, or even a sub where the only affirmation is "i have everything in my dream life script"

the possibilities with scripting are absolutely endless. i hope that this guide has given you the inspiration and direction to write your own wonderful and unique script. now, go and get your dream life!

have fun! bunny 💕

#law of assumption #neville goddard #manifestation #edward art #manifesting #loa #loassumption #dream life #scripting #reality shifting #manifest #master manifestor #dream girl #that girl #bunny's originals #script

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roturo · 4 months

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₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎♡ BAD GIRL, GOOD GIRL !

he couldn't hide the crush he had for the good girl who's a bad girl to him ! ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎

contains: smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, cunnilingus, masturbation (m), e2l, a lot of praise, overstimulation, fluff & angst if you squeeze your eyes, lore mention (really vague), based when gojo was still in school, multiple orgasms, gojo whimpers, nipple play, throat & tummy bump, creampie, oral m!receiving, a lot of the use 'fuck', kinda getting caught, really cute tbh.

A/N: this was supposed to be a request but... idk what happened tbh, i just created this story. 2.6k + felt lonely

You enjoyed this. Really. You know about the power you have over Gojo Satoru. And he’s childish, he won’t admit it. He will continue with his god complex and see you as a ‘pathetic girl without knowing you well.

And it’s fun. His gaze is so funny, the hypocrisy is funny. He would be talking with Suguru, judging you and how fast you’re getting into his and Suguru’s level. Is he afraid of you?

The worst fucking thing is how hard you get him. Maybe he has a degradation kink to bring him back to earth. But each time it gets harder to hide his clear erection inside his pants.

But he would never admit the admirations and maybe the tiny crush he has for you. You being the first time he saw a girl like this– and he might be afraid of you. Afraid of losing himself to some silly highschooler crush– When there’s more important things to focus on in this world, like… he could focus on the political and economic state of the world right now….?

“Gojo Satoru! Are you paying attention?” Sensei Yaga brought him back from his own imaginary debate. “Uh- Yeah, sensei. I’m paying attention.”

“Oh.. Is that so Gojo?” Oh well fuck. Here you go. He sighed, saying your name in a whisper like if it’s some bad word full of anger- “Would you mind explaining what Sensei Yaga just said?” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fucking you with your face pressed against his bed and silencing your cries for him, while he pounds his cock from behind you into your poor vulnerable pussy he just ate out some minutes ago.

“Why do you keep acting like some bad girl instead of behaving yourself and learn to be a good girl for me, hm? Learn how to treat your seniors right. How does that sound? Do you have an answer for that?”

Silence.

Sixth fuck. Why did he think it was okay to say that out loud? Does it sound kinky?

“...I– why- uh- Y-You don’t know me Gojo.” Convincible right? His nicknames didn’t affect you. “So shut up boy. Instead of telling me how to behave, why don’t– Ugh. Shut up.”

He would pretend and convince himself that the reddish color covering your face is an act of his imagination, and move his gaze to his best-friend Suguru, which has a mix of confusion and shock adorning his face. “What? Do I have something in my face?” Gojo asked, touching his left cheek with his hand on that side.

“Uh- No. I will… just pay attention to what Yaga is saying.”

He can’t fucking stop thinking about you.

Is this right? His hand sneaking down his abdomen towards the elastic of his sweatpants, just to enter and– FUCK! He shouldn’t be doing this while thinking about ‘someone he hates’ and want to put them in their place. His erect cock was really visible through his sweats, and all he could do was roll in his bed trying to take you off his mind- Being shirtless didn’t help that either, his also erect nipples having fun with the friction he created while rolling on his bed. Great, not only it affected other areas of his body, but it also brought release to the problem he was trying to stop.

So he couldn’t stop himself. And his sinful right hand went down and inside his boxers to jerk off some tension down there (traitor)-- A whimper escaped his mouth once he teased his tip, already full of pre-cum thanks to stupid bed. His left hand traveled searching to cover his mouth to stop soundings coming out– Not trying to out himself, because it looked like this fucking walls were made of paper. But accidentally while doing so he touched his nipple, bringing out a loud and electric shock to his body.

Seventh? Ninth? Fuck.

He quickly bit his lips, surely blood coming out of them because of how hard he was trying to stop himself, but he really needed to cum. Fuck- If you were here, he would ask for permission, he would beg to cum. He would do anything to just fucking cum inside your pussy.

And it’s so embarrassing, because of all the rumors of him in this small space for his kind, that he’s a playboy and gets pussy every weeknd– when he’s basically a virgin if he has never got his cock inside a woman's pussy. Does it still count as sex without it inside?

He didn’t have enough fucks in his vocabulary to count all the misfortunes he has in a week. How could he let his guard down? How the fuck the curse got him? But the worst (actually it’s like the best thing that happened in his life) is that you cared about his well-being and you offered to take care of him as fast as possible.

"You're hurt. Is it bad? Do you need the med-kit? Let me see-" He already treated himself, not wanting to be a bother for you– (he wants to) but thanks to his infinity it wasn’t so hard to, and it’s basically a paper cut, but ever since that happened, everyone’s been cautious. Well, at least the people who know.

"Don't bother, it's not serious. I've already tended to it."

"...Someone was able to get the better of you?"

Oh shit. Congratulations Satoru! You used another word to describe how unlucky you are! But did you have to mention him?

“Uh.. No- I mean- When training… y’know? It happens, even to the best” He sent you a wink, anxious to get over this topic and not get too focused on him, because really. It was just a paper cut for him. He called for you, bringing back your gaze to his eyes, did he always look this beautiful? “Uh.. Yeah?” You didn’t intend your voice to sound like that, but suddenly everything felt so hot, and was he so close to you before?

“Why did you want to take care of me? The last time I got the memo you hated me as much as you hate bugs.”

“I.. I don’t hate you Gojo. I just-” sigh.

“It’s okay, I understand if you want to gain Yaga’s confidence for… whatever reasons you have. I’m just impressed- that’s all. I’m very grateful it was you.”

…

“I like you Satoru. I’m scared I'll lose you- even though I don’t show it, I care about you” Oh nice. You don’t hate him, and he liked the way his name sounded coming out of your mouth. Could easily make him cum. It’s great you also care for him.

“Can’t blame you. I’m pretty awesome.” His quirky smirk showed in his face, earning no reaction from you. Oh.

Oh fuck.

He really fucked it this time, didn’t he?

“Wait, are you fr?”

“There’s no way you just said ‘ef’ ‘ar’ Satoru.”

He didn’t care about your criticism now, not when you just made him the happiest man in the world and he lifted you with no problem, and got you in a position so you’re now above him, caging his legs.

With no words, he kissed you on the lips with a passion he has never shown. Not even while fighting. He loved the way your lips were perfect for him, how small you felt above him in his touch. As an automatic reaction you slowly started to rock your hips, earning a whimper from him. Which somehow turned you on more, your hands roamed his body until they landed on his chest. Index and middle finger keeping his nipples between- an unexpected thrust from him caught you by surprise and pressed your fingers back together, earning a whine from him. You were about to get your hands under his shirt, and discover this new ‘thing’ of Gojo’s, but-

“Oh my fucking god. WhatshappeningrightnowIthoughsomethingbadhappenedtoyouguys.”

Poor Suguru.

Both of you have been into very… ‘pretentious’ situations while interacting through the years. It stresses him out that it’s just.. well- pretentious. Because you never go to the next base, even after forgetting the bickering and rivalry through the years, (and the raging sexual tension from Gojo), he might finally have the courage to put aside his masquerade and open up about his wants and be vulnerable… At the act? After? During?

Taking a deep breath and sighing, waiting for your answer, but all he receives is a stare. Which makes him even more anxious. He would prefer a slap, a cussing, fuck! even you laughing at him. But all he gets is a stare. Was it so stupid to say how much he liked you and that you should have sex with him?

He called out your name, bringing you back from your shock- “I- shit… Wait a second, this isn’t how I wanted things to go.. what the hell?” The last question was barely heard, he was murmuring to himself and planning a hundred ways he could die without bringing down the sorcerer world with him. Is it good he confessed in your room?

“That’s the worst confession I’ve heard in a while y’know?...” He stopped his mental break-down, never believing he would blush for a girl. Not even the girl he has been crushing (and hating) through his teenage years. “I like you too, like- for my whole life. But I didn’t think you would feel the same. I didn’t see it.”

“But I felt it.” His eyes traced your body until they reached the floor. It was weird seeing Gojo like this. Never in his 20 years of life thought he would be feeling weak and vulnerable to anyone. Not until he met you.

“Yeah- I can see it” You lazily pointed at his crotch. “You seriously have a problem… Do you like being humiliated and degraded?... This isn’t the first time this happens, y’know?:..”

A whine escaped his mouth like a little child- “Ugh, it’s just… I really need you.”

You wasted no time when your lips glued to his. It was 10 P.M, everyone was asleep, but at this rate you didn’t care. If they ungratefully hear you and Satoru moaning, it was his fault for giving the first step this time.

He called out your name, making you break the kiss and start marking his neck. “Ah, fuck. Please mark me, I want everyone to know I’m yours.” You pushed him back so he’s now sitting on the sofa. Kneeling down for him while you continue marking him and hearing his beautiful noises. You were in between his legs, in front of his raging cock begging for release from the sweat pants. “Is this okay Satoru?”

A lot of little cute nods were made, his flushed cheeks making him look absolutely precious. “I need words baby, I don’t know what you want me to do…” You said while playing with the hem of his sweats.

“I want you to suck my cock and then fill you up… please.” Oh! He clearly answered his desires, making you form a smile while he bit his lips watching you undress him. “No underwear hm? You were waiting for this?” His cock was standing there tall and angry. The pale base with a pink needy tip leaking pre-cum from it. “I was risking my luck”

“Then you’re such a lucky man right now Satoru.” Your lips wrapped around his cock, and you slowly teased his tip with your tongue, making him whimper at the feeling. And you tried to deepthroat him- which caught him by surprise and his hand immediately went to find a place in your head, making a made-up ponytail with your hair for some support. (He was too lost in the pleasure to even know if he doing it right)

With the rest of his neglected cock, your hands traveled up to find his balls and start massaging them. Making Satoru to fucking loose control over his body once he saw the bump his cock caused in your throath- Moans turned into whines with tears, he had to pull up his shirt and bite on it to stop whining. Silent whimpers accompanying his tears while he looks at the beautiful girl between his legs. The sight made him cum faster than he expected, he swears he saw light and white noise was heard in his ears.

You happily showed your tongue to him before swallowing the salty liquid down your throat which earned a groan from Satoru.

“From outside you’re such a bad girl, but inside you’re a good girl f’me, aren’t ya?” You chuckled at his ‘drunk-dazed’ face, moving yourself so you’re on top of him again, his cock still hard against your core. “You don’t know me at all Satoru…”

You placed your arms around his neck, getting closer to him. “Not the way I wished. But you’re giving me the chance to be your man and get to know you, right?”

“Oh… Gojo... I’m looking for a real man, not for a man who pretends to be a man. Are you a real man, Satoru?”

“I’ll be whatever you want baby.” He says, ghosting your lips, making a brushing action with his nose and yours before finally giving in and kissing you again. This kiss was more needy, remembering every place from it. While your hands went insearch of his chest, the hold of your hips with his hands hardened when you ghostly brushed your finger through his nipples. He thrusted upwards, looking for some friction between your core and his.

He was getting needier each passing second- and you noticed that once he grabbed the hems of your leggings and tore them apart. Murmuring about him buying you new ones continuously tearing apart your panties too.

One of his fingers going through your folds, coming out wet, you shyly looked away when he inserted the finger on his mouth and moaned. “Sweet.” His cocky personality was back when he sent you a wink. He looked being in control, to be honest.

With no warning, you placed yourself so his cock was aligned. And it kinda hurt because of how fucking big he is. But his reaction was priceless.

You were full of him already, cum coming out of you. “I-..I.. shit.” He couldn’t believe he just came from being inside you, overstimulation taking over him thanks to his second orgasm, but it just felt so right, he couldn’t stop himself from rocking your hips back and forth using his cum as lubricant.

His cock touched places your fingers could never reach, each thrust and movement felt so good. He called out your name in a whine, his head falling back and taking this opportunity so you could mark his neck more. “IloveyouIloveyousofuckin’muchprincess” He was the first to say those three words, bringing butterflies to your tummy after some time of confessing your feelings to the others. “You’remakin’mefeels’goodmygod.” His cries were because he couldn’t take it anymore, filling you up for a second time. And you swear you looked down and there was a clear bump in your tummy because of how full you were. Making itself more prominent each thrust Satoru gave you.

“Ohyeahbaby…Use me as your fuck toy- shit-i’m yours baby.” He never stopped praising you, not until you came and rested your slumpy body on top of his. Your breathings synchronizing with the other, his heartbeat was audible. His arms wrapped around you like a bear. “Satoru- I need to clean myself-”

“I will clean you- Just… let’s stay some time more like this, please. I want to feel you.” His head rested on top of yours while he drew figures in your back with his fingers. “You’re so… perfect.” He said before giving a peck on your forehead.

“Satoru…?”

“Yeah baby?”

“Are you hard again?”

Millionth fuck.

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ymechi · 6 months

Text

The hidden creator

I had a plot bunny idea

TW: usual cult stuff, hints of yandere

-gn reader (I tried making it gender-neutral if there is a comment that is off please tell me and I will fix it)

EDIT: 14/11/2023 (changed some wording and other stuff nothing major)

Creator Reader Pov:

-You were just a regular person who one day woke up in Teyvat out of all places

-You realized you still had all your game features and figured it was one of the perks of being isekaied like in other isekai stories

-The whole thing is weird and why you were here, you had no idea

-After the novelty wears off you take some time mourning the loss of your previous life and the people you knew

-After that you try to get a semblance of a normal life like getting a job and trying to be independent

-Despite having a game system you do not want to be an adventurer or learn how to fight it's not for you

-You were previously an average civilian and raised as one it would be hard to become a fighter now

-Instead you gravitated towards creating things, you found an apprentice position in a clockwork shop in Fontaine

-It is fun and you get to tinker with gears and clocks, learning how various machines work and how to create your own items

-overall you are content

-Except weird people occasionally come by the shop you work at including the Iudex of Fontaine which had both you and the shopkeeper sweating the first few times

-Yet the man who insisted you call him by his name Neuvilette is really polite and nice to talk to, soon you warmed up to him

-You could not help the feeling as if you knew him from before, as if you forgot something, you were unusually fond of him.

-Your other "clients" if you could call them that were more intimidating, you had no idea what they were doing in this shop and it scared you

-The Fatui Harbringers occasionally stopped by the shop to buy a trinket or two before leaving, it honestly scared you and the thaught of running away to another nation had crossed your mind once or twice yet you liked your job and your boss and you made some good friends here so it was hard to leave

-Overall you were doing okay

-Except it seems the people here almost in a cult-like manner worship a creator that was never in the game lore

-It is said they resided in Celestia and not many people actually got to see them, not that it mattered for a nobody like you

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

Tsaritsa Pov:

-The Tsaritsa knew their so called creator was fake

-She knew she had to get rid of the fake creator as they and Celestia had caused irreparable damage

-Even if she had to stain her hands

-One day it happened something shifted in the earth, air, water- no the whole of Teyvat

-It happened so softly like a small snowflake landing on the ground

-She was hypnotized as if a siren was beckoning her she found you.

-You were their true creator

-You were wearing apprenticeship clothes tinkering with something in your hands and deeply concentrated

-She wondered if that is how you created the universe with careful and steady hands guiding and shaping it to your will.

-She wanted to take you away from this. . . small shop, yet she knew begrudgingly you were safe here, if anyone were to find out a sliver of your existence. . .

-You were safer hidden among mortals

-It left a bitter taste in her mouth

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

Neuvilette Pov

-It just happened one day, out of the blue, he could feel it in the shift of the waters

-The way Furina shifted and turned her head unable to sit still confirmed he was not the only one feeling this

-Something happened and he had no idea what exactly happened

-There was this familiar presence this comforting feeling, ancient old instincts waking up

-He followed it without thought until he came upon an in inconspicuous clockwork shop

-He was confused but did not hesitate to step inside

-Then he saw you and everything clicked

-It was you his creator his universe his everything

-You were back

-It seems in this incarnation you were just a human

-That was fine he was oaky with that as long as you were here

-His heart ached seeing you

-He wanted to hug and ask you to never leave again to always stay by his side, for you to comfort him after what had happened and console him

-He should take you way somewhere safer somewhere better not here-

-But weren't you safer hiding among mortals, a part of his mind whispered, no one would suspect you being here even the fake (he cursed them) would not think of finding you here, if he brought you back with him it would create more attention on you

-Attention that would cause you trouble

-He left with defeat on his steps

-It was later he would met the Tsaritsa and a deal was struck

-All for your sake

#genshin impact #sagau #self aware au #self aware genshin #neuvillette #the tsaritsa #fatui harbringers #fatui #cult au #slight yandere #I am too lazy to proofread it right now sorry for any mistakes #this was just some random idea tbh #the creator reader has no idea they are the creator they just wana tinker with clockworks #neuvilette genshin #when will we get more Tsaritsa lore mihoyo plz-#would you guys think that Pantalone would buy out the whole stock whenever it is his turn to visit?

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kdinjenzen · 2 years

Text

My final words on Rooster Teeth & just SOME of my experiences there.

I’ve been waiting to say anything directly for a long time on this subject in hopes that something - anything - would change and get better, but it’s obvious that this is just “how it is there.”

So it’s time for me to finally say something about Rooster Teeth.

I joined the company, officially, as a contracted content creator and editor in February 2013. I worked to create a monthly video game news/release series. I produced episodes every month until I was officially hired as a full time content creator/editor in November of 2013.

From February 2013 until November 2013, I went entirely unpaid for all of my contract work. I was never given the payment promised for anything I did. When I was hired full time and I brought that up, I was told that “it’s been so long already, it’s not really a big deal is it?” And then the subject was never brought up again.

Within a few weeks of working at Rooster Teeth I was given a nickname, that nickname was a slur. Every day I came into work I was called “Fggt” - but they could not use that name in content so when anyone was recording I was called “Fugz” instead. For any fans who used that nickname for me for years, that’s what you were calling me. I couldn’t say anything about it, I had reported the use of that nickname for years to HR, and nothing was ever done about it and the videos that use that nickname for me are still up.

When Christmas rolled around my first year, 2013, I was given a “bonus” of about $100. Any money I had at the time was extremely helpful as I had nearly nothing to my name, so I was grateful for it. But a long time member of the company looked at me as I was handed my small bonus and scoffed “Why do YOU get a bonus? You’ve only been here for five minutes.”

In my first years there I would arrive at work around 7am (two hours before everyone else) to begin editing videos and would often have to stay until 9pm to get as much work done as possible. This was actively encouraged so we could have a backlog of content, but I was always given “rush orders” to edit more important videos to go out either the same day or next day. That’s when the crunch began for me and it did not end.

From that point on harassment started, and not just toward me. Any time I brought up mistreatment or that “making fun of people in content only encourages the community to hate us” - I was waved away saying “IT’S JUST A JOKE! Ignore the comments!”

This “ignore the comments” mantra was a way to excuse their own behavior. Anyone who was not “important” was constantly made fun of with no way to defend themselves or be part of the content in a way to defend themself even jokingly so. We were silenced at every turn.

Jeremy, Matt, and I tried to make content together as often as we could in those earlier days. And we rarely got the chance to do so. I remember being yelled at for making the Zelda video with Matt after it had already gone up because it was a “waste of time”.

During that time I was put into a position where I ignored my own physical health to focus more on work, which eventually caused me to come down with pneumonia. I spent several days in the hospital with a fever over 112F. When I was released I was back to work only a few days later and with the same work schedule.

Eventually I had enough from the department I was working for at the time and moved departments in hope that I would be better treated elsewhere in the company. I still loved the work I did, I loved some of the people at the company, and I believed that if I put my effort into it I could make things better for everyone.

The department I transferred to promised me a producer job and show running their new podcast while also being tasked to edit videos and sometimes write stories for news channel. I was never given the producer position in that department, I was never allowed even near the podcast unless they were “desperate for a last minute person”, I went entirely uncredited for anything I wrote for them, and I was pushed to edit 3 videos from start to finish every day with little to no turn around time so they could be posted immediately.

My hours in that department were 7am until 11pm.

I was crunching harder than before.

I wasn’t allowed to be in anything.

I had my name removed from everything I worked on.

I was put in an office where I was forgotten about and swept under the rug, people even IN the company forgot I worked there with how sectioned off and pushed aside I was.

In 2016 I came out as trans and many people at the company publicly voiced their support on social media.

Inside the company however, things got worse.

People had no idea how to deal with a trans woman, so I was interacted with even less and only trotted out every so often to show off “We Hire LGBTQIA+ People!”

It was only at this point where the nickname “Fugz” finally stopped being used all the time. Three years of content with that name being used toward me and all that content is still up.

During that time my acting manager began to harass me and lie to the community any time I was “planned to be on camera and couldn’t show up” - many times it was said to the audience watching that I “had already gone home” when I was in the other room crunching to finish my job and the work of my manager.

The harassment continued and I began to spiral into a deep depression, wondering what I could do, I eventually reported it to HR and the “solution” was that they brought in my manager who was harassing me into a Two-On-One meeting where the manager said “oh I’m sorry” and that was it. The way I was treated did not change at all and actively became worse.

I then went to one of the founding fathers of the company to express my concerns, and was told that I was “too nice to work at Rooster Teeth” and that I should “just quit and find somewhere else to work” - I was horrified.

At the moment I couldn’t do anything but feel horrified and powerless. I was an out trans woman in Texas in 2018 and was told “just quit and find work elsewhere in Texas” a state that actively finds ways to keep our rights from us.

Throughout my employment I also struggled to get the company insurance to cover my transition despite Rooster Teeth telling me that “Oh it’s all good” - because of their inaction and lack of help in this matter I amassed horrible amounts of medical debt despite being “completely covered” by them.

I still am recovering from this debt now as Rooster Teeth has been underpaying me for years, my raises were frozen by my manager at the time, and because of that I never received a proper raise even up until I quit earlier this year.

Until the end of 2020 I was paid around $40k per year as a Producer/Director. Far below the industry standard. If not for the help of one person fighting for me to be paid properly, I wouldn’t have gotten bumped up to the pay of the lowest paid person next to me. Which was nearly $70k. I was shocked that I was being underpaid by nearly $30k.

During the 2019 layoffs, I was actually one of the people affected. I was very nearly laid off as well, but was told to either move to LA and work there (at the $40k per year rate which is UNLIVABLE in LA) or be laid off immediately.

I agreed to move to LA, Rooster Teeth said they would be giving me $5k moving costs to pick up my life and move to LA by March of 2020. The money never was given to me and then COVID forced the company into moving to remote, meaning my job was actually saved by COVID happening.

Crunch during the height of COVID was monstrous. Every department was forced to push out more and more content and do more and more work to make up for “losses” - many of us were working 7 days a week and extremely long hours.

I helped run the 2021 Anniversary Stream Event, but in the middle of production I had to undergo life saving surgery and was told I needed AT LEAST two weeks rest before going back to work. The person I was working with to schedule that event took credit for all the work I did up to that point and then BLAMED ME for anything that went wrong with it because “I wasn’t doing my job” while I was recovering for major surgery and was on mandated medical leave.

BRGs (Business Resource Groups) were created at this time to help with representation issues inside the company. I did everything I could to help the other BRGs as well as the Queer BRG I helped lead. By mid 2021 I was told “we’ve done enough for the queer community” - which hurt to hear as I felt like we had barely accomplished anything and were still struggling to have accurate representation on screen as most of our PRIDE stream events featured mostly Cis/Het talent still.

During this time there was a lot of outspokenness for the mistreatment of minority groups inside of Rooster Teeth from former employees, lots of fans asked “Why didn’t you all do anything about it?”, to which I say actual ground level employees did everything they could. But we could only do so much.

At that moment I asked for transparency for how others, not just one or two employees, were treated in the company - myself included - and was essentially told that “the company is going through a lot right now just leave it alone”. How I was being treated and how others were being treated was once again swept under the rug.

I left Rooster Teeth because, despite thinking I could make positive change in the company, they proved that I couldn’t every step of the way. From 2013 until 2022, I did what I could to help my fellow employees, make positive change, and help the industry.

It’s also worth mentioning that for every bit of VO I did before I left Rooster Teeth, I wasn’t actually paid for any of it under the idea that “I was an employee, so I don’t need to be paid for VO.” In that case and the way it was viewed, I was paid less than $30 per hour for each of my VO sessions. Which is well below any industry standard.

But I was ultimately silenced and pushed aside.

This is all really just the surface level, there’s so much more I want to say but honestly it’s all so exhausting at this point and I’ve done everything I can.

I still struggle regularly with the emotional, mental, physical, and financial damage that was done to me over those years.

There are good people still working there, I’m friends with them, and I wish them the best.

TL;DR

Feb 2013 - Nov 2013. Unpaid Contract Work

Fugz = Fggt, reported to HR nothing was done

2013 Christmas "Bonus" $100. Long time members disapproved of said bonus

14hr work days, rush orders for same or next day videos

"Any time I brought up mistreatment or that “making fun of people in content only encourages the community to hate us” - I was waved away saying “IT’S JUST A JOKE! Ignore the comments!”" RT crunch caused pneumonia, no recovery period on return

Crunched harder, physically isolated "people even IN the company forgot I worked"

RT never fulfilled their deals promotion deals

15 hr work days

2016 came out as Trans, Transphobia harassment started

Acting Manager lied to the community and harassed me, HR did nothing and enabled harassment

Founding Fathers knew and did nothing. Said “too nice to work at Rooster Teeth” and "just quit and find somewhere else to work"

RT did not properly support medical insurance coverage

End 2020 Position Producer/Director, paid $40k. Next lowest paid person was $70k.

2019, forced to move to LA or get laid off. RT never paid moving costs. COVID forced remote jobs thus SAVING my job

RT INCREASES crunch during COVID

2021 Anniversary Stream Event. Had LIFE SAVING surgery, majority work stolen by coworker and blamed production failures on me during MEDICAL LEAVE.

BRG created to help with representation issues, mid 2021 RT said "we've done enough for the queer community" PRIDE stream events still mostly Cis/Het talents

Mistreatment of minorities in RT ignored "“the company is going through a lot right now just leave it alone"

Unpaid for VO work during tenure at RT, May Marigold and RWBY Fairy Tales included.

Handful of good people. Bad Company.

#Rooster Teeth #RT #AH #RTAH #Achievement Hunter

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fettuccin-e · 3 months

Text

Flying to New Heights

Summary: A flight delay means you're spending your night at the hotel bar, praying for sleep to come to you. Instead, a certain Captain Francisco Morales shows up, tall and broad and far too tempting. With undeniable attraction burning between you, you can't help the way you fall right into his arms.

A/N: Alright! I know it's been a while, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Life has gotten a tad crazy, but the Frankie thirst never stops okay? And this AU has been buzzing in my head for a little while now, so I just needed to get it out there. I hope y'all enjoy the porn. (dividers are by the lovely @saradika-graphics!)

Tags: Frankie Morales x Reader, Commercial Pilot!Frankie, Flight attendant!reader, afab!fem!reader, alcohol consumption but barely, this is essentially an excuse for porn so, oral and fingering(r!recieving), unprotected piv (pls wrap it up I'm begging you), Francisco Morales and his dirty mouth have struck again (w/c: 4.2K)

You love your job, you really do. Deciding to actually train to be a flight attendant was one of the best decisions of your life. Gone were the days of short-lived stints in retail, and you’ve never been happier for it.

You’ve lived the attendant life for a few years now, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve met some of your best friends through this job, seen some of the most beautiful places in the world, met celebrities on their way to new production locations and concert venues.

It’s the dream, you tell your family, during the rare moments you actually get to visit them. And it is. The perks far outweigh the cons in your profession, and you’re happy to be where you are.

That’s not to say there aren’t any cons though.

There are always rude flyers, unruly children, issues with luggage. The turbulence is never much fun, nor are the months spent without being able to go home at all.

There are always nights like tonight, where the rain made the flight arrive later than expected, and you’ve got another flight scheduled for the morning. Between jetlag and the copious amounts of airline coffee you’ve imbibed to remain bright and chipper over an eight hour flight overseas, there’s no way you’ll get more than five hours of sleep before you have to clock in again.

A nightcap in the hotel bar seemed just the thing to cool off. You haven’t even taken your uniform off, the thick fabric stretching across your skin, your legs exposed to the cool air as you sip on your drink. The alcohol burns a bit in the back of your throat, but you take comfort in it, trying to lean into the calming warmth it creates in your stomach.

“Can’t sleep?”

The unexpected voice rips you from your reverie, and fuck, what a wake up call. The voice is deep, a pretty rasp edging into the ends of his words, the warmth of his tone making you far warmer than the alcohol in your glass ever could.

Captain Francisco Morales. Even his name has heat swimming in your stomach, and you wish you had just gone to bed like a normal person instead of drinking at the hotel bar at midnight.

You can’t decide if the pilot is a perk or a con of the job, only knowing that he seems to pilot most of your flights, and is a fucking distraction during every single one of them. With his big broad shoulders and patchy beard, the crinkles around his eyes when he smiles and his insistence that you call him Frankie, not Captain Morales.

The whole “flight attendants fucking pilots” trope never really applied to you until you met Frankie. You’ve made it a point not to hit on him, no matter how much you desperately want to. It would be far too stereotypical, and with how fucking nice Frankie is, you’d feel like you’d be taking advantage of him. So you’ve kept your distance, talking to him kindly, trying to cross your legs discreetly when he flexes his damn hands on the plane controls, and doing your job like a normal person.

But as he crosses into your line of vision, sitting in the barstool directly next to you, you’re struck with the realization that you’re in unknown territory. There’s no distracting yourself here with other passengers, or your fellow flight attendants. You can’t excuse yourself to an airplane bathroom to splash cold water on your face and yell at yourself to get it together. No, Frankie is right in front of you, ordering a whiskey neat from the bored-looking bartender, and smiling at you so fucking prettily with those big brown eyes and big hands and oh god you’re not going to survive-

“Nah, the jet-lag is really getting to me this time,” you say casually, your voice working on its own accord. At least you aren’t staring at him dopily like some kind of imbecile.

He chuckles. “Same here. Flight go okay?”

“You got us here, didn’t you, Captain? I’d say that’s a success.”

“Then let’s hope I’m always successful,” he winks, and it takes effort to breathe normally. You giggle, and he smiles at you again, his eyes crinkling up.

“You have a flight tomorrow?” he asks, sipping at his drink.

“Yeah, unfortunately," you sigh. "10:00AM, which is making the whole ‘no sleeping thing’ even worse. Y’know, it’s really the airline’s fault if I collapse on a passenger." You grin at him, and he laughs.

“Oh, they should be so lucky,” he chuckles, and you could swear that you see just a flicker of heat in his eyes. A heat that turns into a raging inferno inside of you, spreading from your cheeks to the tips of your toes.

“How about you, Captain? Flying again tomorrow?” You need to keep your mind out of the fucking gutter, not that he makes it very easy.

“Yup. They’ve got me in the air at 8:00AM.”

“Oh man, and you’re listening to me complain about my 10:00AM?”

“Work is work, sweetheart,” he smiles at you, and you want to collapse into him at that very moment. Sweetheart. Coming from anyone else, it would sound smarmy, like a pick up line, but from Frankie, it just sounds warm and comforting. You want to be his sweetheart. “We’re all allowed to complain. We aren’t in any kind of competition.”

He sips his whiskey, his eyes feeling like they’re boring into your fucking soul. “And either way, we’re both in the same bar, at midnight, sleep nowhere in sight. We’re pretty much in the same boat.”

“If you say so, Captain,” you say, your body positively burning under his gaze. You hope that you can blame it on the alcohol.

He raises an eyebrow, “I thought I told you to call me Frankie, sweetheart.”

“Frankie, sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” he says, taking another sip. You try to not watch his throat work as he swallows. You fail. “Think you just need more practice,” he mumbles into his drink, so soft you almost miss it.

“Practice?” you blurt, mind too distracted to think of an intelligent response.

“Practice saying my name.”

A laugh startles out of your mouth. “I have no idea how I’d practice that, Frankie.”

He hums, pretending to think. “I have a few ideas,” he murmurs, and fuck, you definitely aren’t imagining the heat in his eyes now. It’s blazing into you, and you have to press your thighs together to alleviate the ache between them, hoping that Frankie doesn’t notice. Or maybe you hope he does, as you watch those thick fingers wrap around his glass.

Fuck it. He’s hot, you’re horny, and God, you can’t take much more of this. “I’d love to hear all about them, Frankie,” you say, adding a little rasp to your voice that you hope sounds sexy.

Frankie chuckles, but it doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of you. No, he sounds surprised, like he can’t believe you’re flirting back at him. Confidence swims in your chest as red colors his cheeks. You gaze up into those warm, brown eyes of his, and fuck, he’s so pretty up close like this.

“You sure about that, hermosa?”

You don’t break eye contact with him, and his deep gaze burns into yours. “Positive,” you breathe, and Frankie’s smirk is absolutely devastating.

Captain Francisco Morales doesn’t do this often. No, he doesn’t do this ever. Fucking between flights is supposed to be a perk of being a pilot, but it’s a “perk” he rarely utilizes. One night stands have never really suited him; he gets attached far too easily, and with his job, he can never stick around for long.

But god you’re pretty. And you’re licking hotly into his mouth, and whining in the back of your throat like you’re fucking desperate for it.

He couldn’t help himself when he saw you, still in your little uniform skirt, nursing a drink at the hotel bar. He couldn’t help himself when he struck up a conversation with you, wanting to see your pretty smile and soft laugh that he only ever hears mid-flight. And damn it, he sure as hell can’t help himself from pressing you up against the wall of the hotel elevator, pressing one of his thighs between yours while your fingers curl into his hair and his arms wrap around your waist.

You wiggle down onto his thick thigh, and it creates the most perfect pressure on your clit. You whimper against Frankie’s mouth, and he groans with you, pulling you flush against him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and his voice is deep and gravelly, breathless from your fevered kisses. “I, uh, I don’t usually do this kind of thing.” His cheeks burn, but he doesn’t back away, just leans his forehead against yours and tries to catch his breath.

It isn’t a surprise, his confession. You’ve heard stories about every other pilot, about their conquests with flight attendants, or how someone saw one of them take their wedding band off when they got to their hotel. There are stories upon stories about every pilot you’ve flown with, except Frankie. And it’s intoxicating, knowing that he wants you enough to have you like this.

“Good. Me neither,” you whisper, and Frankie grins again. That boyish, devastating grin, and fuck, your clit is throbbing so hard that you could cum like this. You could cum, right in this elevator, Frankie’s thigh between yours and his tongue in your mouth, fuck-

The elevator dings, signaling your arrival to your floor, and Frankie jumps away from you as the doors slide open. You don’t take it personally, not when you’re instinctually tugging your rumpled skirt down. You glance up, and Frankie is already staring down at you, gaze blazing as he braces a hand against the elevator door, holding it open for you.

“Where’s your room?” he asks, and the question is casual, but his voice certainly isn’t. There’s promise in it, and you have to make sure your knees don’t buckle.

“Why don’t I show you?” you say, stepping toward him to press your bodies together. Frankie doesn’t answer, he only cups a hand under your jaw, dragging your face up for a sticky kiss. It’s so much better than a yes.

He breaks the kiss far too soon, but one of his hands makes its way down to your ass, squeezing the fat of it through your skirt. “Lead the way, princesa,” he grumbles, and how could you ever think to refuse him?

Maybe you’re a little too eager in your walk to your room, but Frankie doesn’t seem to fare much better. No, he’s just as desperate as you are, with the way he presses you against the door of your room the moment you close it. With the way he swiftly kisses down your neck, sucking your skin between his teeth as he unbuttons your blazer, shoving the fabric down your arms. The buttons of your white undershirt follow, and you keen as he sucks maddeningly at your pulse point, his mustache scratching at the sensitive skin of your neck.

As soon as you’re divested of your shirt, Frankie’s moving again, kissing his way down your chest. He drags his teeth against the soft skin of your breasts, and you dig your hands into his hair.

“Fuck, baby, you’ve got the prettiest tits,” he murmurs against your skin. It doesn’t sound like a line, no, it sounds like a prayer.

“Frankie, please,” you breathe.

He looks up at you from his position at your chest. “What, gorgeous?” he asks, coy, as if he doesn’t know what you want. What you desperately need.

“Please, just,” you use your grip in his hair to drag him back up to your mouth, and he goes willingly, groaning softly as his tongue meets yours again. “Please fuck me, Frankie,” you whisper, and Frankie groans like he’s dying.

“Take- take your clothes off, baby,” he mutters, and it sounds more like he’s begging than he’s commanding. “Take your clothes off, and get on the bed.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

You have to make sure you don’t trip on your way to the bed as you kick off your heels. You tug your skirt and nylons down your thighs, making sure to wiggle your ass a bit more than normal as you bend over to tug them the rest of the way down your legs. You smirk at Frankie’s soft groan behind you.

The air of the hotel room is slightly cold, but as soon as you kneel on the bed, arching your back in a shameless display of your desperation, Frankie is burning hot above you, and you can’t feel the cold at all. Frankie’s thick, calloused hands palm your ass, and you moan as he spreads you apart, staring unabashedly at your aching cunt.

“Can I eat your pussy, baby?” he grumbles from behind you, and the fact that he’s asking permission to eat you out is making you so much hotter, making you clench around nothing.

“Yes, yes, Frankie, oh please-” you whine, and Frankie barely lets you finish your sentence before he’s dragging his tongue in a long stripe up your dripping pussy. “Fuck, Frankie,” you groan, and he moans into you, sounding like he’s enjoying eating you out just as much as you are.

His nose drags maddeningly through your folds as he brings his lips down to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it in circles that send pure pleasure sparking endlessly up your spine. You arch your back into it, pressing yourself into his mouth, and Frankie groans again. The vibrations of it against your clit make you jerk wildly, whining high as you clutch desperate fingers into the pristine white sheets of the bed.

Frankie tries to keep you still with one of his big hands pressing into the small of your back. His other hand makes its way to your pussy, and you don’t even realize, not when he’s licking into you so feverishly, until there’s a thick finger pressing into your achy entrance.

“Frankie, oh my god-” you gasp wetly, his finger so much thicker than one of your own. It’s been so long, too long, since you’ve had the touch of anything other than yourself. Your tiny, traveling bullet vibrator doesn’t feel like this. You can’t stretch yourself like this, you can’t drive yourself wild like he can.

He moves his finger around inside you, searching, searching, while he licks softly at your clit. “Where is it, baby?” he mutters against you, and you have to force your brain to work at least a little bit to decipher whatever the fuck he means.

His finger is still searching, stroking against your slick inner walls, and you can barely gasp out a, “up, up,” before he’s finally touching that sweet spot deep inside you. You can’t hide it when he does, gasping out a high pitched moan as pleasure rockets up your body.

“There it is, sweetheart,” he says, “good girl.”

And fuck, how do you hold yourself together when he says things like that. He licks again at your clit, but plays with that spongy spot inside you, abusing it. You’re so slick and hot, it doesn’t take long before he’s pressing a second finger into you, then a third. And his fingers are so fucking thick, breaking you apart and pressing into that wonderful spot inside you. Your vision is blurring at the edges as he plays with you like a practiced instrument. How is he so good at this? Your body barely feels like it’s your own, just Frankie’s; his to play with, his to fuck. God, he’s ruining you. It’s never been this good.

“Frankie, Frankie-” you whimper his name like a prayer, and his fingers move fast into you, jackhammering you into the mattress. You whine as he breaks his mouth from your clit, but he keeps his fingers pressed deep inside of you as he leans over your trembling body.

“C’mon baby, c’mon baby,” he mutters, moving his fingers inside you so roughly that you could swear he’s trying to break you in two. “What do you need, sweetheart? What do you need to cum all over my fingers, huh?”

“Just keep-” you gasp between shuddering moans. “Just keep talking to me, fuck, please-”

“Talk about what, gorgeous? Talk about how hard I am for you right now? How hard you always make me?” You whine at his words, and you can feel his smirk against the skin of your shoulder. His fingers move into you even harder, if that’s even possible. “Fuck, princesa, you have to know how fucking sexy you are. Make me so fucking hard whenever we fly together. Fuck, watched you bend over to pick up your bag once, right in front of me. Had to fuckin’ jerk my cock as soon as we got back to the hotel. Can’t help it around you baby.”

You feel like you’re underwater. Frankie’s voice is deep and dark in your ear, and your pussy is so fucking sensitive. You can feel your orgasm burning relentlessly in your stomach. Just a little more, just a little-

“Thought about taking you to the back of the plane, mid flight. Thought about fucking you hard, stuffing this pretty pussy, making you go back out to work with my cum dripping down your thighs. You want that, sweet girl? Fuck you’re so pretty, so pretty baby, you’ve gotta cum. Please, please let me fuck this pussy. Be my good girl, cum all over my hand.”

You don’t think he means it like a command, but you follow it anyway. You moan, throaty and wet, into the sheets as your cunt clenches around Frankie’s fingers, hips twitching as he presses reassuring kisses to your shoulder. You turn your head blindly, and he leans forward to meet your lips in a bruising kiss, his fingers buried deep inside as you gush all over his hand.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you whisper against his lips, repeating it like a mantra, and Frankie whimpers, needy and so hot that it makes you want to cry.

“Okay, baby, okay, I’ve got you,” he says, and you know he does.

When Frankie presses the blunt tip of his cock against the opening of your sensitive pussy, you both groan. You push your hips back just as he pushes his hips forward, and the tip of his cock is just as big as the rest of him. Which, of course, means fucking massive. You have to breathe through the stretch of him inside you as he sinks deep, deeper, deeper.

“Doing so fucking good, sweetheart. Jesus fuck- ah- so fucking tight baby- fucking beautiful- oh fuck-” Frankie mutters, sounding just as overwhelmed as you feel. It feels like forever until he bottoms out, his hips pressed against your ass as he hunches over you, hot and big and all man. It’s a dream that you’ve had before, but the reality is so much better than anything you could have ever imagined.

“So- you’re so big, Frankie,” you whimper, and Frankie groans behind you. “Need you to fuck me, wanna feel it tomorrow, please, please-” and he does. He pulls his hips back, just to shove himself back in, and the drag of his fat cock against that spot he found earlier has tears springing unbidden to your eyes.

“Yes! Oh my god, like that, just like that-” you’ve never talked this much before during sex. But his unyielding thrusts, deep, deep inside, have you babbling wildly.

“Christ, you can’t talk like that, princesa, gonna make me blow my fucking load-”

“Want it, fuck Frankie, want you dripping down my fucking thighs, wanna gape open after you fuck me, oh god-”

Frankie fucks in harder, and it’s like every thought you’ve ever had flies out of you. His chest and stomach press into your back as he holds you still, thrusting desperately into you, harder and harder.

The bed is creaking, a rhythmic squeak that mixes in with the endless sounds of your keening whines and Frankie’s moans, and the obscene squelching of your pussy around Frankie’s cock. Your wetness drips down your thighs as Frankie bullies his way inside. He’s hitting that beautiful spot inside you, so perfectly, so overwhelmingly perfect, and fuck, tears are dripping down your face as you clutch onto a pillow, only able to squeak out pitiful whines of “Frankie, Frankie,” as he destroys you.

“So fucking gorgeous for me, god, bebita, fuckin’- fucking tight, fucking strangling me. Been too long, honey? Too long since you got fucked like you deserve?” Frankie growls into your ear, fucking you like a god damn animal.

Frankie’s lost control above you, which he just doesn’t do. He’s always in control, always, he has to be in this profession. But it’s like you’ve stripped him bare, literally and figuratively, to the most primal parts of himself. You’re so fucking hot and wet and tight around him, whining and throwing yourself back on his cock like it’s the best you’ve ever had, and he’s losing it. Losing it far too quickly, and he’s going to cum far too quickly.

“C’mon, baby, give me another one,” he groans, “squeeze my cock with this perfect fuckin’ pussy, wanna, wanna feel it.”

“Touch my clit- oh please, please, Frankie, ah- ah” and he does, the moment the words leave your lips. He reaches underneath the both of you, not breaking the rhythm of his hips driving into yours, and rubs two of those thick, calloused fingers against your throbbing clit.

“Fuck- yes, just like that, just like that, oh my god.” You’re slurring your words, so stupidly drunk on the feeling of his cock filling you over and over, of his body radiating heat above you.

“Gonna take care of you hermosa, make you cum like you deserve, so fuckin’ beautiful crying on my cock,” Frankie says, rubbing your clit hard and methodical. “Never gonna get enough of you baby. Gonna fuck you in every hotel we ever get, fuck you at the terminal, fuck this pussy in the god damn cockpit, oh shit-”

And you’re screaming, outright screaming into the sheets as the thread in your stomach snaps, your pussy clenching and gushing all over Frankie’s giant cock. He’s still mumbling into the cook of your neck, mindless mumbles about how pretty you are, how perfect, as you tremble through the most powerful orgasm of your fucking life. It’s devastating, it breaks you apart and puts you back together all at once, and you just have to trust Frankie to hold you together in his strong arms.

“Where do you want it, huh baby? Please, please, you’ve gotta tell me, oh shit-” Frankie whimpers, and it’s a damned good thing you still have enough brain cells to understand what he means.

“Inside, inside, 'm on the pill, please, please fill me up.” It’s fucking risky that you both didn’t even think about a condom, but with a man like Frankie, it’s hard to think about anything.

His hips still, his cock pressed inside so deep that it feels like he could be in your lungs, as he fills your pussy with his cum. He bites harshly into your shoulder, but it doesn’t fully muffle his whimpers as he crashes through his orgasm. Your eyes flutter shut. You wish you could bottle those sounds and listen to them forever.

Your knees slide out from under you, leaving you laying flat on your stomach, and Frankie follows, holding himself against you as you wait for your breathing to slow.

“That was…” you whisper into the quiet.

“Fucking amazing.”

You can’t suppress your giggle. “Took the words right out of my mouth, Frankie.”

He tucks his face into the crook of your shoulder, and you can feel his pretty smile, before he’s lifting himself off of you, and you realize how cold you are without his heat.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” he says, and you can’t bring yourself to do anything more than nod. Frankie rushes quickly into the en suite bathroom, and you can hear the sink running for a moment, before he comes back. A warm, wet rag makes its way down your back, over the curve of your ass, and between your legs. He’s ridiculously gentle as he wipes you down, and it’s wonderful.

Once Frankie deems you clean again, he climbs into bed next to you. He wraps his arms around your placid body, tugging you close. “Didn’t take you for a cuddler, Frankie,” you murmur, but you only snuggle closer, relishing in his deep chuckle.

“I’m usually not.”

“You don’t do this often, though?” you say, dragging a finger down his chest, your eyes already fluttering shut.

You feel Frankie’s lips press to your forehead as he murmurs, “I think I’m willing to let this,” he hugs you against him softly, “become a new habit.”

You smile, and you lean up to kiss him gently. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

#*runs away again for another month*#Frankie the man that you are #always here to pull me out of a writing slump #frankie morales x reader #frankie x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x fem!reader #triple frontier x you #triple frontier fic #triple frontier smut #triple frontier x reader

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heliads · 9 months

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I love you writing and I was hoping you could write Ben Florian x VK!Reader the reader is Lefou's kid. A soulmate AU where the negative things you think about yourself are marked on your soulmate's skin. Reader only has one or two things because Ben is from Auradon and has a good life and family. While Ben has around half a dozen. Reader is the one who gives Ben the love potion. During the lake scene they notice Ben is their soulmate and tries (but fails) to hide it thinking he deserves better

masterlist

There really is no good place for a prince. They are political figureheads in every sense of the phrase— too young to actually rule, too old to be allowed to skip state functions. They sit in corners of expensive meetings and cut ribbons in front of newly opened buildings, but they can’t do a whole lot except smile and pose.

Shame your friend seems so fixated on capturing one, then. It feels like you’ve just barely left the Isle of the Lost, only bid farewell to the entirety of your prior life experience hours ago, and yet already Mal is scheming about how to best tear down everything around you. If Prince Ben is the best way to fulfill her nefarious plans, then so be it.

The only problem is that you’re now involved in all of this, too. Mal wants a wand and so she’ll take a prince to get there, but as one of her best friends, you’ve been drafted into the plot to catch a prince. Ben won’t have any idea what’s coming. Shame, he would probably run if he had any clue.

Mal’s good at covering her tracks, though, she always has been. You can remember elaborate plans from when you were much younger to steal cookies or cloaks, spellbooks and shoes. At this point, hearing Mal tell you that she’s going to bewitch the crown prince of Auradon into falling in love with her shouldn’t surprise you, just the fact that she’s taken this long to come up with the idea.

Usually, you have no problem going along with Mal’s little adventures. They’re entertaining, at the least, a good way to pass a few days when you’ve already gone over every alleyway and hiding place on the Isle at least a dozen times in the last month. The issue is that you’re not on the Isle anymore, and maybe– just maybe– disrupting everything here isn’t entirely what you want to do.

Mal doesn’t know this, of course. None of your fellow VKs do. Every time they monologue and moan about how they can’t wait to get out of this place, you find yourself holding your tongue, biting back your real thoughts about how the school isn’t actually as bad as you feared. Sure, the constant judgment from the other children of princes and princesses isn’t all that fun, but Auradon Prep has its positives, too. For one thing, you think your soulmate might be here.

What a terrible thing for the child of a villain to prioritize. You’ve heard Mal scoff at the idea of a soulmate, and although Evie is certainly more interested in the idea than some of your other friends, you’re still not sure that you’d find a welcome audience amongst their ranks when it comes to tracking down your soulmate. After all, the odds of that soulmate being from Auradon and not the Isle are pretty high. They’ve all but told you that themselves.

All things considered, for a society with such control over magic and spells, it’s pretty difficult to find your soulmate. You’d always wondered why those in charge couldn’t shorten the whole affair to something more simple– a name on the wrist, perhaps, or an invisible string that only the two of you could see– but instead, soulmate magic went the complicated route. How lovely.

The story about the origin of the soulmate magic is convoluted and ancient, going back generations and changing with each family. The general consensus is that soulmates were created to preserve the sanctity of true love, with the idea that soulmates should be able to love each other entirely, flaws and all. So, when you think something negative about yourself, those very same thoughts will show up on the skin of your soulmate, something like a warning label for what they’re going to get themselves into.

This is all well and good for people with few negative thoughts, maybe they’ll have something here and there about a bad sports result or a poor test grade that their soulmate can chuckle over before meeting them. For you, though? You, the child of a villain, cursed to live forever on a too-small island with the other convicts and criminals, you have had more fears and hated things about yourself than most. Your soulmate must be covered in unhappy musings, which only makes you feel worse about yourself than before. A self-perpetuating cycle of the worst kind.

By contrast, the startling absence of your soulmate’s negative thoughts on your own skin makes you certain that they couldn’t be from the Isle of the Lost. There are only one or two fears on your skin, proof of loving parents and a stable home, and they’re minor things like a bad hair day or a fear of not doing their absolute best. These change, often leaving every few months to be replaced by something else insignificant.

What makes you most certain that your soulmate is the child of a royal is the one negative thought that has stayed on your skin since the very beginning. Your soulmate, whoever they are, is terrified that they will let down the king and queen. Only someone with close ties to the royalty could have such a fear, so it’s proof that your soulmate is somewhere here on Auradon.

So maybe you don’t want to leave this place, not yet. Not until you can learn who your soulmate is. It’ll be almost impossible to track them down on this information alone, but supposedly that’s how the whole thing is supposed to work. You learn about the worst parts of your soulmate, and then you get to love the best of them. The only problem is that you’re fairly sure that if your soulmate is a royal, they won’t want to love you at all.

It’s easier to ignore the whole affair. Easier to agree to Mal’s plan when she proposes enchanting Prince Ben. At least another one of your friend’s schemes will keep your mind off the soulmate affair.

That’s what you tell yourself, at least, but your conscience is starting to get steadily more vocal as the days go by. Ben is a nice guy, which hurts, surprisingly. Although the love spell may have been cast on Mal, as one of Mal’s closest friends, you’re around the two of them all the time. The boy you see is someone that you wish could be your soulmate. He may be a prince, and you may be a villain, but he makes you want to believe in love after all.

You certainly have the capacity for such musings. For some reason, the love spell didn’t take all that well, and although Ben is now compelled to stay with Mal more than he was before, it’s not like he’s totally obsessed with her as Mal had hoped. Mal claims it’s because love spells can never work fully due to the soulmate issue, like having a soulmate is a kind of shield to protect you against that sort of enchantment, but regardless, Ben has just enough independent thought that he can tell you jokes and try to make you smile like– well, like he tries to do with Mal.

The realization that Ben is a genuinely good person, and worse, someone you don’t want to trick, haunts you as you fall further into Mal’s scheme. You’ve been trying to push the whole thing from your mind, letting Ben join your soulmate in the depths of your mind you don’t want to touch, but your train of thought keeps circling back to him despite your best attempts otherwise.

Besides, it doesn’t help that Mal keeps trying to involve you in the plot. Right now, the two of them are at the Enchanted Lake, out on a cute little date. Mal had been making mock disgusted faces at you the whole time she was getting ready, but some part of yourself can’t stop whispering that this doesn’t seem so bad, actually, that the thought of being out here alone with Ben would make for a wonderful day instead of the tedious chore Mal is making it out to be.

Ben doesn’t know you’re here, though. Mal wanted backup in case something happened, so you’re lingering in the woods to keep anyone from stumbling upon the scene and also holding onto more magical baked goods in case Mal feels the need to renew the spell. It’s kind of like torture, strolling through this beautiful forest, knowing that Ben is so close and you are helping hold him under the thrall of this plot.

The storm in your mind must be thundering too loudly for you to think straight, because you lose track of yourself and accidentally walk too close to the lake. You weren’t supposed to be spotted, but before you can back away and melt back into the foliage, Ben looks up and sees you. You panic, immediately heading the way you’d come, but you hear footsteps after you moments later and Ben manages to track you down before you can go too far. Mal is so going to kill you for messing with her plan.

“Sorry,” you murmur, eyes wide when he finally catches up to you, “I didn’t realize the two of you were– I’ll go now.”

Ben shakes his head. “No, no, it’s alright. It’s not like we have a monopoly on the woods.”

He’s dripping water, most likely due to a recent dip in the lake, and you can’t seem to stop your gaze from following the path of the droplets as they cascade down his shoulders, across his hands, and, most importantly of all, over the swooping letters of the fears of his soulmates.

Usually, Ben wears long sleeves or something else to hide them. You can see why now– there are many of them, many more than you, perhaps half a dozen in all. You can’t read all of them from where you’re standing, just snippets about how a villain’s kid shouldn’t have a soulmate, how they’ll never amount to much, things like that. Things like what you’ve been thinking recently.

Ben must catch on to your train of thought, because he smiles weakly, absentmindedly scratching at a sentence proclaiming that his soulmate isn’t worth the good luck they get. “Yeah, my soulmate’s a little stressed, I guess. Hopefully, I can talk about that with them soon. I want them to know that they’re worth it, wherever they are.”

It had never occurred to you that hating yourself would make your soulmate this obsessed. You have no proof that Ben is your soulmate but–

But, as you watch, you can see a new fear appearing out of nowhere, wrapping itself around Ben’s left wrist. I’m not good enough for a soulmate this good. Just what you were thinking mere moments ago. It’s like proof.

Ben looks up slowly, and although you were never blessed with the ability to read minds, you swear you can tell exactly what he’s thinking right now. “Are you–” he starts, ends, tries again, “Do you know who your soulmate is?”

You can do several things at this moment. You can confirm what you’re mostly sure is true, you can lie, you can pretend you hadn’t heard him. You spot movement in the trees behind him, a flash of purple, and remember belatedly that Mal is still somewhere at the Enchanted Lake, waiting for Ben to come back and wondering why you’re holding him here for so long.

All of a sudden, the reality of the situation comes crashing down around your shoulders. This is not something that can happen. Ben is a prince. You are the child of a villain, and the friend of another VK who’s counting on you to continue fooling Ben so she can pursue her latest mad plan. There is no world in which this works out.

So, you force a smile, banishing all thoughts back into the deep recesses of your brain once more. “No,” you say, “I don’t know. I think they’re a VK, though.”

Ben’s face falls in a flash. “Really? Because I thought–”

You shake your head quickly. “I don’t– it’s not me. I think Mal is waiting for you, though. You shouldn’t keep her for long.”

Ben glances back over his shoulder in memory of the girl he’s left somewhere in the woods behind him, and when he looks back, you’re gone. You’re good at running. It’s a skill you’ve perfected over the years. You just never thought you’d have to use it now.

Prince Ben is your soulmate. Impossible. True. Mal comes back later that afternoon, tells you the date went splendidly despite your accidental intrusion. Ben must not have let the brief moment in the woods faze him for long. It hurts more than you care to admit.

There is only so much running a VK can do, try as they might to pretend otherwise. You avoid Ben at all costs, hoping that whatever foolish war is currently being fought inside your heart will come to a tolerable ceasefire if you just ignore it long enough. Mal tells you that the plan is going swimmingly, she’s never seen the prince more excited about the VKs and the upcoming coronation. You nod and smile and tell her that you’re glad everything is going to plan, but inside, you cannot seem to stop your mind from screaming.

And then, all of a sudden, despite your best attempts to remain out of sight, Prince Ben finds you. It’s completely out of the blue, so casual that you almost don’t realize it’s happening until he’s sitting down at your table in the library and it’s too late to run.

You feel like an animal caught in a trap. He’s just smiling like nothing is the matter. “I know it’s you,” he says by way of hello.

Your heart is stuck in your throat. “What?”

“I know it’s you,” Ben repeats, “I know you’re my soulmate. I had the Fairy Godmother do a little spell so I could check for you, but I think I knew since that day at the lake.”

You frown. “You can do that?”

He shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. “Not everyone can, I think. But I, uh, insisted.”

You grin. “Prince privileges?”

“Something like that.” He’s smiling, though, maybe pleased that you’re not trying to run off this time. “But you knew even without the spell, didn’t you?”

That does shake your uncertain sense of calm. “Yes,” you admit, “but I didn’t think you— I didn’t think it would work out.”

The look on Ben’s face is genuinely heartbreaking. “What, just because I’m a prince?”

He says it so casually, it’s almost funny. “Yes, Ben, because you’re a prince and I’m a VK. I mean, my dad was Lefou. He literally tried to ruin the happy ever after of your parents, why would you want someone like me to be your soulmate?”

“Same reason you shouldn’t be afraid to want me. You’re not your father, Y/N, and I’m not my parents. We’re just us, and I know that I want you to be my soulmate. I have since the start. I was hoping you would tell me you knew, but after a few days went by and you still said nothing, I figured I had to take matters into my own hands. Even if that meant using a spell or two.��

You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to laugh in your face and tell you it’s ridiculous to think that he would ever want a VK as a soulmate, but he doesn’t. In fact, you don’t think he ever will. As impossible as it seems, Ben wants someone who isn’t from a perfect fairy tale. He wants you. And that, lovely and wonderful and absolutely crazy, sounds like a fairly good happily ever after for you.

disney tag list: @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed

#ben florian #ben florian imagines #ben florian x reader #ben florian oneshot #descendants #descendants imagines #descendants x reader #descendants oneshot #disney #disney imagines #disney x reader #disney oneshot #descendants ben #descendants ben imagines #descendants ben x reader #descendants ben oneshot

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yoru-no-seiiki · 4 months

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DOG BLOOD （狗血）

YANDERE! PROTAGONIST x SADISTIC! LOVE INTEREST! READER

tw/cw: everyone’s gender is up to interpretation. dddne, yandere themes, violence, suggestive content

but what if you were never the villain, but a love interest.

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS ARE STRICTLY FORBIDDEN FROM ALL MY POSTS!! LEAVE OR I WILL BLOCK!!

CASSIEL was a bored, lonely person. Through countless of timelines and people they’ve been with, none have piqued their interest in the slightest.

Even you.

But as a love interest, it was your job to keep them well — interested. Engaged. Entertained by the thought of romancing you.

But they never did.

They always ended up completing the game without touching a single person. Not any of the romancable options nor even the concubines offered to them in their conquests. A solitary existence.

You could only smile as a façade to hide your frustrations, as in some timelines they saw it fit to kill you.

“You . . . “

Your lines were as followed,

‘You can use me however you’d like.’

You said it at least a hundred times now. Your diction, tone, gestures were always perfectly replicated. It was the one line you could say that didn’t result in a horrific torture and death.

But this time, you felt nothing. Fear left you long ago. What was the point of being careful when you knew every outcome of every action and decision?

“You’re bored are you not?”

Cassiel’s head swiveled so quickly you were almost worried it would come right off.

You did the same thing you always did. You climbed their lap. Your hand around atop shoulders. Your face next to their ear.

In many other lifetimes, it’d end with them shoving you off. Maybe even, breaking your legs before outright killing you.

And yet this time it was as different. Stiff.

Your pointer finger grazes across their jaw, to their lips, and then their nose bride as you studied their beautifully crafted features. The protagonist was the Gods’ favorite after all, you never truly had the opportunity to savor that perfectly sculpted face.

“Lie down, be good, and we can have some fun. Shall we, your highness?”

The night was long. The two of you were inexperienced, but you weren’t about to let go of such an opportunity — your stamina be damned.

Adrenaline carried you throughout the night. Their highness’s wet eyelashes and swollen lips were another point of motivation. As they came undone underneath you several times, it all ended when curiosity took hold of you once more and your hands reached their throat.

And you squeezed. Wrenched all the air out of their throat.

Finally, a familiar sight greets you as the world collapses. Because what would it be without its protagonist?

[ RESET COMPLETE : BEGINNING CONSCIOUSNESS UPLOAD ]

You awoke again, back to the same place and time. Your eyes flicked to your hands.

Your heart fluttered.

You reached climax after climax with the royal. The protagonist you sought after for what felt like hundreds and thousands of years.

But nothing felt better than the moment you ended their life instead. The power you felt. You were utterly drunk on it.

In any case, after that event, you slowly began realized how soft the protagonist truly was. The conqueror of the world melted like a puddle when you took the charge, and almost evaporated when you’d coddle or pamper them afterwards.

You also slowly began to realize how much more you needed to get that high once more. Simply killing them wasn’t enough. You wanted them to feel betrayed. You wanted them to scream in horror once you flayed them alive. You wanted them to cry out in fear when you’d chase them down and re-create those times when they’d torture you.

But then, you would catch a smile here and there. In moments where it wasn’t supposed to exist. Cassiel moaning during the times you’d cut open his arms in an attempt to study their body’s anatomy better wasn’t something the pleased you at all. It took away the pleasure of your hobby. The joy you’d receive when you had them to play within your hands. The ecstasy of being the one to bring about pain to your torturer’s favorite.

“Stop making sounds you’re distracting me.”

“My . . . hah . . . apologies. It just feels . . . amazing.”

You paused. Your movements frozen as your mind processed what they just said.

Tch. Turn-off.

©️ yoru.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

taglist: @the-dumber-scaramouche @justkouisenough @rxflen

#yns.cassiel #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fic #yandere x you #yancore #tw yandere #yandere core #yandere blog #yandere concept #yandere imagine #sub yandere #yandere scenario #masochist yandere #gn reader #yandere protagonist

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klemen-tine · 4 months

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For the Greater Good (Platonic! Yandere Batfam x Uncle!MaleReader)

MAJOR WARNING: There is physical harm in this, near the end, please proceed with caution. Non-consensual drugging at the end as well.

Fun fact I learned but felt like I knew, some pain medications can actually make you lose your memories.

Reader is Bruce Wayne's younger brother.

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Crying woke him up. Groaning and rubbing his eyes, he sat up with a lot of effort and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. Grabbing his cane, he threw on a robe to protect himself from the chilly air the manor tends to have, and he hobbled out of his room. His leg was still stiff and he cursed at how long it took him to get to the room, but once he did he limped inside and towards the crib.

He smiled down at the crying baby, dressed in the cutest starfish onesie. When crying blue eyes made eye contact with E/C eyes, the crying stopped and instead a smile bloomed on their chubby face. A chuckle escaped the exhausted man, reaching down carefully and picking the small thing up. He put his weight on his good leg and stood there, holding the little being in his arms.

Their cheeks have filled out, creating a plumpness that reminded him of the cream puffs he has tucked away in the freezer, and those sparkling blue eyes were something many people would be jealous about.

“You shouldn’t be up.” He could hear the cape swishing behind the other figure, and the all but silent footsteps that inched their way into the room. A smile bloomed on his own face, mimicking the baby, “Don’t come closer if you’re wearing that bat costume. You’ll give him nightmares.” A chuckle escaped from the other and when exhausted E/C eyes looked up, he was met with the amused blue eyes of his older brother.

Bruce ignored his younger brother’s words, walking closer to peer at his nephew in his brother’s arms. His mask was off, and he only wore the suit and cape. This way his nephew could at least recognize his favorite Uncle’s face. To which the baby did, smiling and laughing when Bruce came into their line of suit.

Y/N smiled, holding them closer and nuzzling his head with his cheek. Bruce watched his nephew flail his arms in that starfish onesie, making it all the more hilarious. His brother chuckled, gently bouncing the baby in his arms to try and soothe them.

“You stink.” Bruce chuckled, “How rude. I just came back from patrol.” Y/N rolled his eyes, “Everyone alright?”

“Yes, everyone is safe. It was an easy night.” Y/N’s shoulders relaxed and Bruce observed how the exhaustion creeped up on his brother. His shoulders sagging and the bags under his eyes looking heavier. His grip on Bruce’s nephew tightened only a little bit, pulling the baby closer.

If Bruce was better at art, it would be this moment he would wish to paint. The moon light streaming in through off-white curtains, over the sage green crib, and on the two bodies in front of him. His younger brother, wearing a black silk robe and his nephew in his starfish onesie being bathed in moonlight. The soft light reflecting off of H/C lock and S/C skin. It is the way that the moonlight casted soft shadows and seemed to only highlight his brother’s features. Blue eyes looked down to his nephew, who was fluttering those large blue eyes of his and trying to fight sleep.

It’d be more beautiful than any other renaissance painting.

His nephew looked so much like Y/N when he was a baby. A memory Bruce holds onto with care. Besides the eye color, which blue was a common trait in Waynes, his nephew could be nearly identical to Y/N as a baby. From the smiles, to the happy laughs, the waking up in the middle of the night just to be held.

It’s most likely what made this image all the more better.

Until Y/N’s face screwed and Bruce watched him shift his weight a bit. Worry taking over his features, he rested a large hand on his brother’s shoulder, “Y/N, you should go to sleep.” Y/N shook his head, “Not yet.”

“Y/N.”

“No, Bruce. Just… just a bit longer.” He wanted to look at what was left of the life he once had. His baby was a reminder of the love he had once felt for another. A love he didn’t know he was capable of feeling, until a few years ago. The very proof of said love, the only thing left was his baby. This cute, innocent, and lovely baby that held Y/N’s heart. Or at least what was left of it.

The Wayne brothers are intimately familiar with how quickly life can be taken away. Their parents’ lives taken by a bullet, and Y/N’s wife taken by a car. Anything could take this young life, and the very thought terrified Y/N. It had him jolting awake in the middle of the night and visiting the nursery whenever he could. His son was always near him, and he only just started letting himself leave the baby with his cousins, Uncle, and Grandfather alone.

His heart always beats anxiously whenever he couldn’t see his son, but Alfred and Bruce assured him that that response was normal. Bruce has been helping get over that hurdle, slowly drawing him further and further away from the room his baby would be in for a longer period of time.

Staring at the now sleeping bundle in his arms, all he wanted was to ingrain his son’s features into his memories. Just in case the grim reaper decided it needed another Wayne. If it does decide that, Y/N prays it’ll take him. He prays that it will leave Bruce and his nephews alone, that it would leave Alfred alone, and most importantly his son.

With help from his brother, he set his son down in the crib, watching the baby stir for only a bit before grabbing Bruce’s outstretched arm. His cane in Bruce’s other hand, and Y/N chuckled. Looping his arm in his brother’s as the older, broader, and irritatingly taller man walked back to his room next door.

“Do you want to take your medicine?” Y/N shook his head, “No. The pain isn’t bad, it was just a twinge.” Bruce nodded, sitting on the edge of bed and watching his brother settle under the thick comforters. He could see the anxiety forming in those eyes, and he knows if he doesn’t quell it now, Y/N will be up again to go see his son.

Taking off his gloves, he gently began to run his fingers through his brother’s hair, softly lulling the other to sleep. Bruce smiled, “It’s okay, Y/N. Everyone will be here in the morning.” A few more minutes later, Y/N was softly snoring, taking deep breaths and his body no longer moving besides the stead rising and falling of his chest.

Bruce shuffled quietly out the door, shutting it without a sound, and making his way back to his own room. No before checking in once more on his nephew. Bruce wasn’t as paranoid as Y/N was, but he did enjoy staring at the baby. Not with haunted looks like Y/N used to have, or the forever ogling gazes his own son’s had when looking at the youngest Wayne.

He gazed upon the baby just how he used to stare at Y/N when he was this small. Waking up in the middle of the night to stare in fascination that a human could be so tiny. When he was younger, Bruce used to climb into the crib with Y/N and sleep next to him. It would be quite the sight in the morning, when either Alfred or his parents found him snuggled next to Y/N.

Bruce is four years older than Y/N, and he took his older sibling role seriously. When they were younger, Bruce always had his hand in Y/N’s. Making sure that the other was never far from him. Which wasn’t hard even if they weren’t holding hands. Y/N has been attached to Bruce from the moment he could walk.

His protectiveness increased ten-fold after that fateful night. A night that robbed the both of them of their parents, and Y/N of his mobility. His hip had been shot due to Bruce pulling him close to him. If Bruce didn’t that bullet would have hit Y/N’s stomach, and Alfred had explained that a limp is a small price when it comes to a life.

Bruce had agreed.

Y/N had never held it over Bruce. He never blamed him, nor has he ever given him a dirty look for it.

The man wanted to ensure that his nephew will never have to go through what Y/N went through. He wanted this baby to grow up with a family already wrapped around those tiny, stubby fingers and he wanted Y/N to know that this family would bend over backwards for them. They would do everything in their powers for the two people that always seemed to be in the middle of everything.

He’s grateful that his nephew inherited Y/N’s looks. From the shape of this eyes down to his nose, everything looked like Y/N.

Nothing like that wretched woman.

His jaw clenched at the thought of her, and he quickly walked around the crib to pull the curtains closed. Cutting out the moonlight that illuminated the room and leaving them in almost complete darkness besides the hallway light from the open door.

He reached down, gently dragging his callused finger across the thin and fragile skin of his nephew’s cheek, who smiled in his sleep. Completely and devastatingly unaware of the mad house around him.

++++

“What are you doing?” Y/N stared down at Cass and Stephanie that were surrounding his son. The baby’s hair tied up with a small bow, and looked like a radish.

“Dress up,” Cass answered seriously, and Y/N nodded with a stoic face. Gone were the clothes he was dressed in early this morning and instead he was wearing a cute blue dress under a white top with puffed sleeves.

“Why a dress?” Stephani snickered and pulled out a photo from nowhere, and she stood to hand it up to him. He took the photo and he brought his other hand up to rip it.

“No!” Steph snatched it out his hands and Y/N stomped his cane, “Get rid of that! How did you even get that?!” It was a photo of him, as a baby, in girl clothes. Almost the same dress, same shirt, and same hairstyle. In the back was a cheekily grinning Bruce.

“Bruce.” He’s killing him.

“What?” Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Y/N whipped his glare towards his brother, “Why do you have that photo?!” Bruce blinked at him, took a look at the baby in the room, and then chuckled, “Oh, that photo.”

Y/N hates that his brother knew what photo he was talking about by just looking at his son.

“He’s cute.” Cass held up Y/N’s son, who continued to laugh and Steph whipped out her phone to take a photo. Y/N huffed, “I’m not mad you dressed him up. Bruce, why do you have that photo?!”

His older brother shrugged, “It’s a cute photo.” Y/N’s cheeks burned and Bruce had to stop himself from chuckling, taking advantage of the fact that Y/N needed a hand to hold onto the cane, and he squished his brother’s cheeks with his own hands.

“Bwuush.” Bruce watched those E/C eyes focus on him and fill with annoyance as well as with embarrassment. Those squished cheeks of his were red with a flush and Bruce knows that his baby brother’s nose would be scrunched if he wasn’t currently having his face squished.

The man released Y/N’s cheeks, smiling as he did so. His nephew started laughing and he turned his attention to Steph and Cass who were cooing and taking photos. At least some people were enjoying this.

Y/N sighed, “What other photos do you have of me as baby?” Bruce’s smile turned cryptic smile, walking over to pick up the laughing and smiling baby who squealed in the arms of his Uncle.

“Hey! We weren’t done!” Steph cried out, getting ready to try and snag the baby back, but Bruce cut her off, “It’s lunch time. Alfred is expecting us.”

“Steph, Cass, at least put him back in his regular clothes,” Y/N tried to defend some of his son’s honor, knowing that as an adult the photos will be haunting him. Stephanie grabbed Cass’s hand and ran out of the room, pretending not to hear Y/N calling their names. The man huffed, turning to Bruce who shrugged, “I’m sure everyone will be fine with it.” “I know they will be fine with it. It’s just my poor son is going to be haunted by this story and these pictures.” Bruce chuckled, moving his nephew to sit in one arm, while his other hand rested on Y/N’s back. He gently guided Y/N to the dining room, listening to his brother complain about how this whole family was just filled with people who do what they want when they want.

He was halfway through it when they heard running steps followed by a “Stop running!” Dick’s blue eyes locked on the three of him and his face looking feverish, “So they didn’t take him out of it!” Cheers were heard and Y/N swears that one day he’s going to club all of them. His oldest nephew walked over, his smile large as he took in his cute cousin who was babbling away and looking unbothered.

“Uncle, he really does look like you in that photo.”

“How do you know of that photo?!” Dick picked up his cousin from Bruce’s arms, and cooed at the chubby baby. Said baby squealed and gushed at the sight of Dick, raising his little hands and pawing at Dick’s cheeks and nose. It had Dick making a sqwauking sound and nuzzled his nose into those plump cheeks.

He motioned for the two other adults to follow him, “Alfred made lasgana, caesar salad, and some bread loafs.” Y/N can already picture the mess his son will make and that poor dress of his is going to ruined.

“Before he naps he’s going to need a bath,” He reminded Dick, who nodded, “Of course! Can’t have a dirty baby going to sleep dirty, now can we?” His hands held both sides of his cousin and he held him in the air as he wiggled him a bit, eliciting a cry of delight.

The walk to the dining room was filled with Dick asking his Uncle questions and Bruce walking besides the limping man. Both of their attention on him as he answered Dick truthfully.

“You guys are terrible,” Jason grumbled once he saw his cousin’s state, but it lacked any bite and he was holding back a smile. Stephanie cackled while Dick set the youngest Wayne in his high chair.

“Master Y/N, I can feed the Young Master while you eat.” Y/N smiled at Alfred, “Are you sure? I don’t mind feeding him, Alfred.” The Butler huffed, “Of course. It is not a hard job to do.” It was something everyone was grateful for. The youngest Wayne was not, by any means, a picky eater. He was a joy to feed and oftentimes Y/N’s nieces and nephews fought over who could feed him. Although, everyone could admit that Alfred is the best when it comes to making sure that their cousin’s food ends up more in his mouth than on the tray.

Smiling, Y/N and the rest of the Waynes dug into the italian-themed meal.

Damian watched his Uncle eat from his peripheral vision. He took into account how much food he was eating and how much just spread throughout his plate to look like he ate some. When he had first moved in after the accident, it was a common thing to witness. Their once gluttonous Uncle, because Y/N could and does eat a lot, was barely taking any bites of the meals.

The first month was hard on almost everybody. His Uncle always looked paranoid and he had his son sleeping in the same room as him. Damian understood that his Uncle was grieving and grief takes time. Even now, he could still see the signs of sadness in those E/C irises as he stared and took in everybody. Almost like it would be his last chance to do so.

It is that look that puts everyone on high alert around him. Monitoring and excessively checking on him just how he does to his son.

What Uncle Y/N doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

After an eventful lunch, it was Uncle Y/N who ended up taking his son to go put down for a nap, balancing the baby in one arm and using the cane in the other, he masterfully evaded everyones’ hand to help and limped through the manor.

Damian was the one to pull out his phone and watch the feed of his Uncle making it too his room with the baby still in his arms. Masterfully opening and keeping the door open until the both of them were in the room.

“He made it.”

“Good.” Call them cautious and they will agree. How could they not be? Y/N has had a tremendous impact on nearly all of their lives in some shape or form. His patience, kindness, and genuine happiness of just being alive was infectious and capable of attracting even the haughtiest of people.

He was too good for someone like her. Someone who was so impatient, deceitful, and not worthy of Y/N’s attention. Let alone hand in marriage.

When Y/N had first introduced her, everyone banked on it not lasting. It is why they did nothing to stop the continuation of the relationship. A simple fling. Only for two years later they would be married. It was only the revelation that she was pregnant that halted the plans for a bit.

Seeing Y/N as happy and excited as he was was enough to stave off the anger. Bruce’s grip became more possessive, Dick’s hugs became tighter, Jason’s bookstore trip became more frequent, Tim’s help in learning how to run Wayne Enterprise more demanding, Stephanie’s and Cass need to go shopping became longer, Duke’s need to understand his metahuman abilities became more intense, and Damian’s desire for his blood-Uncle’s attention all the more prominent.

Everyone all of a sudden needed something from Y/N more than before.

Then when the baby was born, all of the Wayne’s were present, including those who didn’t fall under Bruce Wayne’s legal care. All of them waiting for Y/N and his son.

Tim can recall his first time holding the baby, and how small he was. He had been terrified that he was going to break them, but Y/N’s careful guidance and soft instructions, that fear turned into admiration. To think, something this small could be this breathtaking.

His blue, exhausted and surrounded by bags from the lack of sleep, looked up and sure enough, Y/N was staring at him and Tim’s new cousin with so much love. Those delicate hands, hands that Bruce dirtied his for so they would stay clean, held his forearms in a gentle grip as he helped Tim find the right bounce to ensure that the newborn stayed asleep.

Tim quickly obtained that hospital video and saved it on the Batcomputer for everyone to remember the first time they held their cousin.

There had been a huge argument after that. How long should they wait for their plan to be put into action?

A lot of them wanted it to happen while their cousin was still a baby, unable to remember that woman’s face because she doesn’t matter. Only they did. Only Y/N did. Their cousin only needed to remember his father, Uncle, Grandfather, and cousins.

That was it.

But how young should they do it? Surely before any core memories were made right? Because then Y/N would only be hurt more. However, if they did it to young the stress might be too much for Y/N.

The first month after the accident was horrid. Y/N rarely got any sleep, and when he gory nightmares haunted him. The car was not supposed to crash in front of him, but by the time anyone made that realization it was already too late. The black car was completely crushed, and up in flames while Y/N could only hold their son and watch. Bruce was next to him, and he had caught his brother before his knees could hit the concrete.

It was a horrible day for multiple parties, and the aftermath was just as bad. Y/N couldn;t even handle the funeral proceedings, to which Bruce and shockingly (and funny enough) Jason handled. The second oldest nephew responding to every whim and whimsey his Uncle had, doing everything in his power to make the pain lessen.

Anything in the powers. Sometimes that meant anti-depressants and bumping up Y/N’s pain relievers.

A loopy Y/N was a calm Y/N, and a calm Y/N meant a well-rested Y/N. Sometimes he would rarely leave the bed, trusting on someone to take care of his son. To which they all happily jumped on the chance to do. He’s been weening off of the pain medication, choosing to once again deal with small pain in his hip, but he stayed on the anti-depressants.

That is the one pill everyone made sure he took. He needed them. Just how he needs this family. All he needs is this family.

++++

“What did you do, Bruce?” Bruce had to stop himself from cursing at his luck and at the boys for also not nooticing. All five of them in this room and none of them heard Y/N enter? Of course he enters when a comment was made about make someone disappear just like Y/N’s wife. They wouldn’t have a hand in it, because they don’t kill, but is it a murder if one of them lets it slip what type of car she drove to the man she screwed over the most?

It’s not their fault that her ex worked at the mechanic shop they frequented. It isn’t their fault that Tim accidentally said somethin about the car being his Aunt’s, because how was he supposed to knoow that the mechanic he was talking to was her crazy-ex? It’s not his fault. It’s not any of their fault, because she didn’t say anything about this.

She lied, repeatedly over and over again to Y/N’s and everyone’s faces. Only, she lied to a house full of detectives, a former soldier Butler, and a man whose happiness was at the forefront of everyone’s reasoning.

“Y/N-”

“What did you do?!” Terrified E/C eyes stared at Bruce’s rigid form. The older man did not intend for his younger brother to hear those words, and he didn’t like that all the blame was being pinned on him. It was a group effort.

One they all happily took part in.

Dick raised his hands, as if he could ease the tension, “Uncle, c’mon there might be a misunderstanding.” Vibrant E/C eyes, swirling with pain and rage, flickered to him and effectively shut him up for a bit. Jason, for once, chose to remain silent at the sight of conflict while Tim thought the paintings in the library looked interesting. Damian, like his father and oldest brother, was looking at him.

Y/N could feel his heart beating faster and his head hurting. He didn’t want to believe it. How could he? His brother, the nephews he loves, and the nieces he adores, all conspired to kill his wife?

Who… No, why? The question was written across his face and Bruce took it upon himself to clear the air. He motioned for the others to get out, which they did with no complaint. Dick sending him a guilty look, Jason not meeting his eyes, Tim and Damian sending an apologetic look before disappearing.

The heavy doors of the office shut behind them and Y/N clenched his jaw. Bruce and him maintained eye contact, staring each other down.

“It was a choice made by the Family.”

“The hell is this? A mob?” Bruce stared into Y/N’s enraged eyes, and he sighed, “Y/N, I know this hurts but it is for the best.”

“The best? The best for who?! Not for me! Not for my son! Not for your nephew!”

“You don’t know that!”

“And you do?! What are you clairvoyant now?!”

“She wasn’t good enough for you, Y/N.”

“Who are you to decide that?” Y/N hissed out, glaring at him with all the rage and resentment in his body. The past three years of the family getting together, photos, smiles, all of it now burning in flames and he was choking on the smoke and ashes.

How long had they been planning this?

“Y/N-”

“Don’t ‘Y/N’ me! Bruce, what the hell?!” It terrified him. His brother, the one he trusts most, and he just threw all of that back into his face.

If Bruce could do that to someone Y/N loves, what's stopping Bruce from hurting him? Y/N’s eyes widened. What’s stopping Bruce from hurting his son?

The boys walked out.

His head whipped to the door, and was about to start making his way out to the nursery, but Bruce had grabbed his arm, kicking the cane from his grip and making Y/N rely on Bruce’s weight to keep standing.

“Bruce, I swear to God, don’t you dare-”

“My nephew will not be touched in any malicious way, if that is what you are so worried about.” Y/N snarled at him, trying to get out of his iron grip.

“I don’t believe you.” Bruce nodded, “You don’t have to. Can’t you trust that your nephews won’t hurt him?”

“No. How can I trust the murderers of my wife?” Bruce’s expression changed, and the hold on his arm tightened. Y/N’s teeth clenched, “How could you do that? I trusted you! I fucking trusted you and you go and…” The weight of the situation fell on his shoulders and Y/N would have crumbled if it weren’t for Bruce holding him up. Tears leaked from his eyes like they were faucets and his chest started aching.

Bruce kissed the side of his head, and where he kissed felt like it burned. Like the heat of the fire on the day that car crashed with his wife in it.

“I know. I know it hurts but it’ll get better Y/N.”

“Don’t talk to me about something getting better when you’re the cause of it.” Bruce lowered them to the floor, making sure that Y/N was still out of reach of his cane. Y/N wanted to throw a punch, an elbow, or something to vent all the anger and pain he has in his body. However, the grip Bruce has around his arms keeps them pinned to his sides and it’s not like Y/N had the strongest legs. If they were to get into it, it would be literal boulder versus a twig.

Bruce has always been the bigger one between then, even before Batman. Bruce had inherited Thomas Wayne’s imposing figure, while Y/N had Martha’s thinner one. His brother had been his rock, just how he had been Bruce’s now he wonders if Bruce was the heavy ball at the end of the chain. His nieces and nephews the chains, his son his collar, and the manor the cage.

Y/N felt as if the reality around him was crumbling and he couldn’t even pick the pieces up. He choked down a sob, “How long have you been planning this?”

“The accident or having you here?”

“All of it.” Bruce rested his forehead on Y/N’s shoulder, “You were supposed to stay here in the manor. The very thought of someone being more important than me, than Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Alfred, all of them, it is so infuriating and terrifying.

“Because I was scared that one day you would leave me, alone in this manor with only the walls to talk to and the mirrors for company.” Y/N glared at him through his tears, “You’re lack of faith in me is astounding.” He would never have left Bruce, because they are all they had left of their family.

Not to mention, Bruce has the boys and girls for company. He wouldn’t have been alone. There’s Alfred and Y/N would have visited.

“I know its not an excuse, but dammit Y/N, it’s so terrifying.” Y/N tried to still his beatin heart, pumping his blood throuoghout his body and making him want to run. He wants to leave. He really, really, wants to leave. Y/N wants to pick his baby up and run.

“Do you know why I am telling you this?” Bruce’s grip loosened and Y/N waited until those arms removed themselves from around him and he lunged for his cane. Only for a large handd to wrap around the ankle of his bad leg and pulled. Dragging him away from the cane and causing Y/N to shout in pain.

He stared up at his older brother in fear, his leg still in Bruce’s iroon grip. Y/N wonders if this is what criminals see when looking at Batman.

“Because you’re not going to remember it.” His foot stomped on Y/N’s hip and there was a sickening crack and white flashed behind his eyelids. The scream he released sounded foreign to his own ears, and the tears now became ones of physical pain rather than emotional.

He started coughing from the amount of screaming and crying, and Bruce continued to look down at him. His eyes full of sorrow, but also acceptance. He was looking at Y/N similar to a parent getting ready to discipline their kid. Not wanting to but needing too.

Bruce released Y/N’s leg, eliciting another cry and he widened his eyes when he saw Bruce raise his foot again, “Wa-wait, Bruce–”

“It’s not believable if you only have a break in your hip.” There was another crunch and Y/N’s not even sure what broke but the scream he released was silent. The pain was excruciating and the questions searing into his brain. Who is he trying to make believe and believe what?

“You of course.” Bruce stared at his brother on the floor, and he knows Y/N’s screams and crying are going to haunt him but it is for the better. Y/N’s watery E/C eyes stared at him in fear and pain, tears rushing down his blotchy face and confusion across his face.

“Poor Y/N, you fell and broke your leg. So now you have to go back on your pain meds and now bedridden for a while.” Fear coursed through Y/N’s veins and although he knew it was futile he tried to crawl. His older brother watched, before walking behind his desk and rummaging through the drawers. Y/N wasn’t even close to the door when Bruce stood over him, and gently flipped him over.

Y/N screamed, trying to get away from his brother, but with one leg out of commission and his one arm now pinned to his side, it was a futile struggle.

“Get away! NO! I hate you! I absolutely fucking hate you.” Bruce held a pill in his hand, and in his mouth between his teeth was a water bottle. Y/N clammed up, biting his lips to keep them closed as Bruce came in closer with a pill. He wanted to knock it out of the other’s hand, but before he could even do that, Bruce’s knee rested on his broken hip and Y/N cried out in pain. His brother was quick in shoving the pill in his mouth, covering the orifice, and opening the bottle with the other arms that were pinning Y/N’s arm. He all but waterboarded Y/N with it, washing the pill down.

Afterwards, he held Y/N and slowly rocked back and forth in a mocking show of comfort. Y/N hit him, bit, and tried to shove him off. His cursing and shouting fell on deaf ears and the drug was beginning to take effect. His limbs became heavier and eyelids stayed closed longer.

“Shh Y/N, just sleep. It’ll be better in the morning.” Feeling one last bit of defiance, Y/N glared at his brother, “Tell me how you can kill my wife, but are unable to kill the Joker?” His eyes were closed by the end of the sentence, unable to see his brother’s reaction, but he heard the tight, “Good night, Y/N.”

++++

Crying woke him up. Groaning and rubbing his eyes, he tried too sit up but realized in confusion that his leg was casted and his head was incredibly foggy. A sound of discontent left him, but then there was a shuffling in the room and the crying stopped. In his blurry vision he saw Dick holding his son and Tim gazing at him softly.

“What…”

“You fell, Uncle. You broke your hip and shin and your cane unfortunately broke as well,” Tim informed as clinically as he could, holding his Uncle’s hand and staring into the hazy eyes.

“We had to give you a higher dosage of pain medication, and you’ll need to stay on them for a bit.” Y/N nodded in understanding, his attention returning to his gurgling son and smiling Dick, “It was terrifying Uncle, seeing you laying there like that. It’s a good thing Bruce and Timmy found you. Can’t imagine how bad it would have been if you were on your own.”

Y/N blinked, the situation dawning on him, “Yeah, that…that would be bad. Sorry Timmy, you had to see me in a traumatic state.” Tim shook his head, “No, I’m happy we found you when we did. I’m sorry that we didn’t get there sooner.” Y/N smiled, moving his arm to gently cup Tim’s cheek. It took all the effort in him to even make it that short distance, but Tim rested his own hand against the back of Y/N’s, nuzzling his cheek further into Y/N’s palm.

“Sleep Uncle, we’ll all be here when you wake up,” Dick encouraged, sitting next to Tim and bouncing his cousin. Y/N chuckled, “Okay. Please watch–”

“We will Uncle. Now, please rest. You and our cousin will be safe, I promise.” Y/N made a small hum before shutting his eyes once more, dreaming of when he and Bruce used to play in their mother’s garden.

________________________________________________________

Very Dark on this one. Was not the intention at all, but that's how it happened....

#batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere dc #platonic yandere #platonic batfam #Brother!Wayne #Brother Bruce Wayne #Male!Reader #Dc Male Reader #Batman Male Reader

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still-a-morosexual-help · 6 months

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Love it when characters casually reveal some insane childhood trauma with a nostalgic smile on their face because this is just a normal part of their childhood how fun! to the absolute horror of those around them who are very much in the 'that's not normal what the actual fuck' boat

Okay but here's what makes me tear up:

This conversation happens in a devilgram where Diavolo is picking apples for Barbatos to make an apple pie for him and it cuts to a flashback that shows Diavolo wanted an apple tree to impress his new angel friend and excitedly tells this to Barbatos. Barbatos then helps Diavolo plant an apple tree in the forest

Isn't that rattling your brain!!!? Aren't you foaming at the mouth!?!?!

The Demon King enchanted this forest to be full of things that could hurt and kill his child, all in the name of preparing Diavolo to be a better king

Then Barbatos helps Diavolo plant apple trees in it, because Diavolo wants to share it with their enemy, a gesture of friendship and good will that would eventually bring peace to the three worlds* which in turn helps Diavolo grow towards becoming a better king

Diavolo's father created a deadly survival course for a child so he wouldn't get bored, something that would keep Diavolo away from him, and the man who actually raised Diavolo spent time with Diavolo helping him grow apple trees in it

A labour of love grown and tended to for years, if not centuries, just so Diavolo could give his friend apples (another gesture of love) built upon the soil of something that was meant to push and punish Diavolo into being the ideal ruler

*(over a series of meetings Diavolo & Lucifer become friends -> Lucifer starts questioning things in the Celestial Realm -> Lucifer, pushed by the sentence against Lilith, starts a war in the Celestial Realm -> Lucifer seeks sanctuary in the Devildom -> Diavolo helps Lucifer + reincarnates Lilith -> Lucifer pledges his loyalty to Diavolo + through Lilith's line MC is eventually born -> through MC & the brothers' fates being tied Lucifer accidentally picks MC for the exchange program -> MC showing that people from all three worlds could not only be close friends but family starts mending bridges + MC wanting to stay in the Devildom permanently gets everyone actively pushing for peace leading to them becoming part of the student council/government and challenging the views of the older/more conservative demons -> all this eventually kickstarts both Diavolo & Lucifer's character & relationship development -> Diavolo learns to be a more considerate ruler & person who listens to others instead of immediately jumping in with his own plans & ideas + Lucifer learns to actually push back against Diavolo & not just be his 'Yes Man')

Also this Devilgram is called "The Seven Apples"

and with lines like,

"Still...I hope that all this effort bears fruit, someday"

"With enough care and attention, I'm certain that it shall."

"Ah, well. Good things come to those who wait, and all that."

And talk about the future of the Devildom and how they pick exactly seven apples, the whole tree talk/metaphor is 100% about gaining the friendship & trust of Lucifer and his brothers by putting in the effort, care and attention to one day, years in the future, have seven shining apples with you

BUT, EVEN WITHOUT THAT DOUBLE MEANING,

It's not just a tree.

It's all about love, isn't it and the things we do for the people we love.

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avatar-anna · 9 months

Text

Rumors

so...i've had this concept rattling around in my brain, but i had no idea how to write it, so i used pictures instead. i definitely want to do more, but tumnlr only allows 10 pictures a post, so here's to hoping i remember to come back to this in the future!

yourinstagram

liked by taylorswift and 67,530 others

yourinstagram: had a very cool dude over today to make even cooler music

yoursistersinstagram: you let someone in the bat cave?!

y/nfan5: possible collab on the new album?

yourinstagram: more like i was helping someone with theirs ;))

harrystyles: Thank you for having me. X.

harryfan3: HARRY???

harryfan7: omgomgomgomgomg

y/nfan1: pls god let us have a harry and y/n collab on his next album i NEED it

harrystyles

liked by gemmastyles, yourinstagram and 2,233,781 others

harrystyles: HS3. Coming soon.

harryfan8: NEW ALBUM ALERT

harryfan11: HARRY YOU CANT JUST DROP SOMETHING LIKE THAT WITHOUT A RELEASE DATE

harryfan4: this has to be what he was working on with y/n right?

y/nfan3: i need them both on a song together

yourinstagram: had fun late night talking with you xx

y/nfan9: i'm sorry wHAT

harryfan5: is this flirting this sounds like flirting

harryfan13: honestly...here for it

y/nupdates

liked by harryfan7 and 4,320 others

y/nupdates: Y/n in a video for Vogue recently!

"A lot of people ask me how Harry Styles ended up recording at my house when we'd virtually never crossed paths before. It was actually Taylor (Swift) who kind of set the whole thing up. They spoke at the Grammys last year and she apparently gave him my number so we could work together...He called and asked if I was available to help with his album at all. At the time I was on the road, then working on stuff for the band, and it just kind of went back and forth for a few months while we tried to line up our schedules. Then I was done touring, but I was kind of in a weird state in life where I didn't want to leave the house or hang out with anyone. And I remember making up excuses because I wasn't really up to making myself presentable to a whole team of people I'd never met before and having our first meeting be this huge thing. I'd basically built it all up in my head about how our ideas would clash and we wouldn't get along and I just kept telling him maybe some other time. Long story short, Harry showed up at my place a week later by himself with just a guitar, a notebook, and my favorite takeout order. We spent the whole day together working on a bunch of different stuff from themes to genres of music to sampling and mixing. And writing. Lots and lots of writing. And now he's a dear friend. He's so sweet and so talented. I wish him all the best with the new album."

y/nfan8: ok i'm glad it worked out and everything but imagine a virtual stranger showing up to your HOUSE?? like she said no and he basically forced her to write his album for her

y/nfan4: that's so real of her tbh to not want to leave her house

y/nfan2: y/n is notoriously introverted it makes sense

harryfan13: girl...

y/nfan7: i don't think it was that serious. and if she really didn't want him there she could've said no

harryfan13: and y/n literally called him a friend?? stop trying to start shit that doesn't exist

y/nfan7: of COURSE mother brought them together

harryfan17: i can't believe that's what harry and taylor were talking about in the video!

harryfan2: chill harry doesn't need to be in a relationship with every woman he's associated with

harryfan4: wait but wasn't y/n at that grammys too?

harryfan9: it was still covid it's possible their paths didn't cross

y/nfan19: wait what if he was too shy to go up to her??😭

harryfan4: i love that they're writing besties now but i think they'd be so cute together 🥹

hsupdates

liked by harryfan4 and 10,343 others

hsupdates: Harry about Y/n L/n for Rolling Stone:

"I've always admired (Y/n's) work. She and her band are incredibly talented, and are just so passionate about creating music. I wanted that same energy for my third album, the freedom to make whatever I want without any reservations, and I knew Y/n was the perfect addition to the team. It took some convincing, but once we kind of got started, we couldn't stop. As we've gotten to know each other these past few months, I not only respect her as a musician, but for the person she is as well. Her soul is one of a kind, and I feel like my album would be so different without her on it. So now not only do I have an album that I'm proud of and love, but I got an extraordinary friend out of it too."

harryfan9: so this is what people mean when they say platonic soulmates

y/nfan12: all we've gotten is crumbs and i'm already in love with their friendship. and the album of course

y/nfan2: i'm so interested to hear this album now. if y/n is on it it has to be good

harryfan3: "her soul is one of a kind?" if that's harry as a friend i don't think i can handle boyfriendrry😭

y/nfan7: i'm holding out hope for them honestly🤞🏼🤞🏼

liked by harrystyles and 23,724 others

yourinstagram

yourinstagram: you've fallen from the sky down to me, i see it in your face, i'm relief, i'm your summer girl

y/nfan17: shut up are those song lyrics??

yourbandinstagram: the tears behind your dark sunglasses, the fears inside your heart as deep as gashes🎶🎶

y/nfan17: HOLY SHIT those ARE lyrics!

y/nfan6: haven't even heard the song and i know the girls have done it again

harryfan4: could it...could it be about harry?

y/nfan8: you're grasping at straws

harryfan12: are they? they've been spotted together all over LA

harrystyles: ☀️☀️

y/nfan8: as friends. friends can hang out can't they?

harryfan3: new music from harry AND y/n? we're about to be fed y'all

harryfan10: THEY REALLY ARE BESTIES

y/nfan2: i bet they collaborated on this song together

Interviewer (I): What's one memory or experience you can share from making this album? Any trips to Japan or Jamaica?

Harry (H): We stayed in Los Angeles mostly for this one. But erm...in terms of a specific memory...I would say that while I was working with Y/n, one of the tracks was actually inspired by her cat.

I: Really?

H: Yeah. Whenever it did something to annoy Y/n, which was quite often, she'd call her a little freak. The song's obviously not about the cat, but the phrase was in my head and yeah. Things just kind of...snowballed from there.

I: The sound that Y/n's band has is more rock centric, a similar sound to your first album. Is that what we can expect for your third studio album?

I: You've become quite close to Y/n L/n it seems like.

H: Not necessarily. Y/n and I collaborated, but she also let me take the reins in terms of sound. She had opinions of course and we would bounce ideas off of each other...but she really just followed my lead and supported the vision I had. She is playing a majority of the instruments on the album, though.

H: It's hard not to.

I: How so?

I: It sounds like you could go on for quite some time about her.

H: She's just cool, you know? I was kind of intimidated when we met for the first time. She's quiet, but you never forget that she's in the room, you just want to go over and talk to her. Of course once you meet her she's incredibly kind and not at all intimidating, but still like chill and stuff. The first time we met we sat for an hour just talking about music we enjoyed and live shows we wanted to attend and things we learned while in lockdown. She's just effortlessly cool. An old soul, I guess. And somehow she translates that into her music. Her sisters, too. They're all just first-rate musicians.

H: Sorry. I kind of gushed for a minute there.

H: And the band. They're just so talented, you know?

harrystyles

liked by jeffazoff and 4,211,323 others

harrystyles: From start to finish, making this album has been such an incredible journey. It was so fun to try new things sonically while also making something that I'm one hundred percent proud of. I've never felt more myself while making music than I did while creating this album for all of you, and I have so many people to thank for that. Hopefully you know who you are. I love, love, love you.

harryfan16: 😭😭😭😭😭

harris_reed: little angel👼

harryfan3: WE'RE SO PROUD OF YOU

yourinstagram: congratulations h. you deserve it.💐💐💐

harrystyles: I couldn't have done it without you💐

yourinstagram

liked by yourbandinstagram and 53,089 others

yourinstagram: for one night and one night only...but in all seriousness shout out to my friend and his incredible album. happy to have been a part of the magic :)))

harryfan13: HAPPY HARRY DAY!!!

harryfan4: is she in ny??

y/nfan7: yes! she was spotted with harry before the show today

harryfan9: they're literally so cute i love their friendship

harrystyles: You made the magic happen. Thank you for everything. X.

harryfan3: they're so...

y/nfan2: i genuinely think they like fucking with us bc i legitimately can't tell if they're dating or not

y/nfan7: at this point i don't even care i love whatever they're doing they both just seem so happy to be besties/lovers/collaborators and i love that for them

harryfan5: ^^

y/nupdates

liked by harryfan10 and 3,742 others

y/nupdates: Y/n performing Keep Driving onstage with Harry in NYC tonight at ONO!

y/nupdates: When he introduced her, he said: "Tonight is special in a lot of ways. I'm sharing my album with you for the first time, my family's here, my friends are here, and...a very good friend of mine is here to play a song with me tonight. This album wouldn't have been possible without her, so please give her as much love as you've given me. Y/n L/n, everybody!"

harryfan4: stop they're so close it hurts😭

y/nfan7: i was there they were staring at each other and smiling the whole time!

harryfan12: that's the one where he says choke her with a sea view!?

y/nfan7: YES AND I SWEAR HIS SMILE GOT BIGGER WHEN HE SANG THAT PART AND LOOKED AT HER LIKE HE FULLY HAD TO TURN AROUND TO LOOK AT HER BC SHE WAS PLAYING THE DRUMS

harryfan3: i'm choosing to believe they're in love idc what anyone else says

hs/ynupdates

hs/ynupdates: Harry, Y/n, and her sisters in New York after ONO tonight! Apparently Harry and Y/n were standing and walking very close to each other. Like arms wrapped around each other close.

harryfan2: that could literally mean anything tho. they're good friends why wouldn't they walk next to each other?

y/nfan14: i feel like they don't know if they're dating or not at this point😅

y/nfan8: her sisters are so unserious i love it

y/nfan5: i love that they all showed up for harry🥹

yourbandinstagram

liked by taylorswift, harrystyles and 710,225 others

yourbandinstagram: Thanks for having us, London!

y/nfan1: i can't believe i got to see harry and y/n perform in ONE NIGHT

harryfan3: sending my love and my tears to everyone who got to experience this historic night

harrystyles: Thank you for taking the time to share the stage with me. X.

yourbandfan2: how do y'all always look so good 😭

I: So you opened for Harry Styles a few weeks ago and performed a song with him in New York.

Y/n: My sisters and I did, yeah.

I: How did that come about? Did your team call his team? Or was it more casual than that?

Y/n: Oh, definitely more casual. I think we were just hanging out together one morning and he kind of just suggested it. No bells and whistles or anything like that.

I: So can we expect (Your band) to join Harry on his upcoming tour, then?

Y/n: I don't think so. We're working on putting out a record of our own at the moment, but we do want to get back out on the road soon, but I will definitely be attending more of his shows in the future.

I: And what can we expect from this upcoming record? Did Harry help you the way you helped him out?

Y/n: I've sent him a couple things to listen to, and I value his opinion a lot, both as a friend and as an artist. He also showed me a couple records recently which kind of influenced how I approached some of the songs sonically. He's got a huge vinyl collection at his house. I'm honestly kind of jealous.

I: There's been some rumors running around that you and Harry are in a romantic relationship. Would you like to put any of those rumors to rest?

Y/n: I could see where people might think that. Harry's very affectionate by nature, and over the last couple of months we've become very close. He's not just someone I admire in the music industry, but as a person in general. I feel incredibly lucky to call him a friend. And a close one, at that.

I: So just a friend then?

Y/n: Yeah. Yeah, just a friend.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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slayingfiction · 1 year

Text

How I push through writing when I don't feel like writing.

Here are some of the techniques that I use to help me write more often or more consistantly when my laziness/depression/anxiety starts to take over.

I watch TV. I don't do it with the purpose of zoning out though. I watch something popular and well-liked such as the LOR or Harry Potter to get new ideas on how I can develop my story and apply their in-depth world-building ideas to help develop mine. Without plagarizing of course!!!!

Zoning out and daydreaming. As I have mentionned before, daydreaming is a huge part of my story outlining and world-building process. I'll stand in the shower, or take a walk and think about how my charcaters would act/react/behave in situations, mundane or not. Doing this gives me a better sense of my characters, and sometimes gives me ideas for scenes I use later on.

Work on writing related projects. These work well at keeping me distracted while still being productive on my writing goals. Example, I have one story I am working now, I made a new language (alphabet and numbers included) to include as a cool and fun component for the book. So, at times when I don't wan't to write, I continue creating the dictionary (very fun, 8/10 would recommend). Also, for the same book, my characters don't work off the Georigian calendar and 24 hour clock, so I've been working at creating a new calendar (harder than it seems, 2.5/10 dont recommend). These are side projects that help my story, without having to write.

Reading. You saw this one coming, I know. Reading is great, especially when you're editing, your writing style will unconsciously change to be more similar the author you were just reading. Also, most importantly, I'll be reading and think, "this story is really good, but you know what story I like even better? Mine." then change to writing.

This one is my biggest life saver!! I learnt about a year ago that sometimes I'll get bored of writing a story, and have difficulty keeping on track. That's why I finished my first book in 2016 and just started editing the first draft last week. The solution for me was to work on multiple projects at once, because it was much harder to be bored of multiple stories. I stick to 2, but will sometimes add a third. This is easy for me, because I have a list of over a dozen series I want to write. Don't abandon one project for another, use them as a distraction/ motivation for each other, so you're always furthering at least one project. I've never heard someone say, "oh no, i accidentally worked on this other writing project for three months instead of the other writing project I was doing. Dammit." No, we're just happy we have written something. Be sure to have well outlined story lines before starting, don't just start writing randomly or you'll reach a point where you don't know where to go from there.

Author/ writer projects. Maybe this is building a following, or community to share your projects and engage with. Tumblr, Insta, Reddit, whatever it is. My hope this year is to start up my website to offer publishing services (editing, graphic design, short writing courses) and build a following as a writer. (See what I did there? Never a bad time to self-promote ;) ) Having your own projects like this will help you in the future when you're going to try to publish and sell your books!

Talk with friends and a writing community. Never underestimate the passion that will burn inside you when talking about your story, or when others are talking about theirs. Surrounding yourself with a positive writing community can be the best thing for you as a writer.

Write or read (your story) every day. I'm not going to be one of those people that say you need to write 1000 words a day, that's a lot. But maybe try for 100? That could maybe only take 5 minutes, and at the end of the year that's still over 36 thousand words of a novel. Or just read your story, and I've always found it helped me get in the creative mood.

Make a playlist of songs that remind you of your characters, your story, or just puts you in the mood to write. Then play it ONLY when you're having trouble writing. Playing it while writing will not help, you'll get annoyed with the songs.

Just really can't do it today? That's okay, take a break. You deserve it. There's always tomorrow.

Does anyone else have ways they push themselves to keep writing? Let us know in the comments!

Happy Writing!

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tossawary · 25 days

Text

I saw "Hadestown" a while ago and found it pretty fun, especially because while it is a retelling of the Orpheus and Eurydice myth, it is also doing its own thing. It sets the story in a company town and presents a Hades in his aspect as the god of wealth. Though, it's not always clear in "Hadestown" what is figurative and what is literal. It plays with that mythological line a lot.

Hades is a wealthy businessman who owns mines and factories, which exhaust and trap (and presumably kill) the workers, a "god" among men, and Eurydice comes to work for him out of desperation. She doesn't actually die in this story... uh, I'm pretty sure. You can interpret the musical's ending a lot of different ways, I suppose. But when Eurydice first ends up in "the Underworld", in Hades' clutches, and signs a work contract to survive, her "death" is figurative.

So, when Orpheus comes to retrieve Eurydice, "Hadestown" is presenting us with a version of the story in which Eurydice can actually get away. She's not trapped by something as inescapable as death. When Orpheus appeals to Hades' love for Persephone and convinces this "god" to release Eurydice, I was watching the couple walk away together and thinking to myself, "What if they made it? What if they get to live together this time?"

I knew they wouldn't.

It still hurt.

And it later occured to me that a happy ending would betray not only the original myth, but also betray the new story that "Hadestown" presents to us.

"Hadestown" is a story concerned with poverty, with the fear of starvation and freezing to death, with the labor and rights of workers, with the oppressive power of wealth, with the selfishness of the rich. It's not subtle about it. At all. Hades is here as a figurative god of death, but he is very much present in his aspect as a god of wealth.

Hades releases Eurydice, but makes it conditional, because while Orpheus' song has softened him, he immediately becomes worried that this kindness makes him look weak and will set a bad example for all of his other workers. He doesn't want other workers to try for freedom or for other people to believe his workers can be set free. He curses Orpheus with doubt in order to make him look back.

Personally, I thought that the ending became a little messy, regarding what was figurative and what was literal. It fell back more into mythology, with how arbitrary Hades' condition is and how looking back automatically took Eurydice away. But I still liked it. Musical theatre is very well suited to that kind of blurriness in its lines.

If Orpheus had suceeded in saving Eurydice in this version, then the story would be saying that you can have your happy ending if you just work hard enough for it, if you're special enough, if you believe in yourself. The story would be saying: Orpheus' beautiful voice convinced a powerful, wealthy man that he and Eurydice were unique, that their love story was different, that their tragedy was unfair, and that they shouldn't be treated like the other poor workers. You just have to sing the right pretty song and people will listen to you out of the goodness of their hearts.

It's kind of what a modern audience expects: the heroes will succeed. They will succeed because they worked hard and they were special. The fact that Orpheus fails here too, even though Eurydice wasn't dead in this story, feels like a song getting stuck in your head because the ending is missing. It feels wrong. It's upsetting.

It made me think about how their ending was unfair. It made me think that their tragedy shouldn't have happened. That they could have been happy if only Hades hadn't taken advantage of Eurydice's poverty, if he wasn't so cruel to his exploited workers who create his wealth, if he didn't hoard his wealth instead of sharing it around, and if the wealth hadn't been allowed to go to one person in the first place. Orpheus and Eurydice were not without flaws, sure, but they were ordinary people just trying to make their way in the world. The "don't look back" condition is so arbitrary and unfair and disrespectful.

Everything happened at the unkind whims of a wealthy businessman who was scared of looking weak and losing power. It's not fair and it's all Hades' fault.

To me, though they tell you from the beginning that this is a tragedy, it seemed like "Hadestown" wanted you to think, "Maybe Orpheus and Eurydice will make it this time," and then wanted you to feel let down when they didn't. And maybe then wanted you to think to yourself, "As long as this same story keeps happening, they're never going to make it. Maybe there shouldn't be gods of wealth putting conditions on freedom, and deciding who lives and who dies. It's not fair."

#tossawary musicals #hadestown #character death #spoilers #tossawary watching

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sara-scribbles · 25 days

Text

Melting the Dragon King's Heart (Part 3)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Malleus Draconia/F!Reader Summary: After falling down some stairs, you wake up in the body of a villain from one of Idia's cheesy romance books. Destined to die a fiery death, you have to figure out a way to change your fate. Word Count: 7,661 Notes: Hey all, sorry for being off the grid for so long! I've been busy and haven't had much time to do anything besides study. But we're finally at the end! I hope everyone enjoyed the story! It was a lot of fun to try my hand at writing this. Malleus is a fun character to write for.

I might have some more isekai/regression/reincarnation stories for Leona and Jamil. It's something I've been thinking about but haven't fully committed. Let me know if these ideas sound interesting and you'd like me to write on them.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Warnings: Physical abuse, emotional abuse, attempted murder, actual murder, death

Despite being in the library often, it’s always a little daunting when you first step in. There are plenty of staff to help, but shelves upon shelves of texts are still a bit much. A lot of the texts near the back are quite old. A lot of them have to be handled with care or they might just fall apart.

After asking for books on enchanted weapons, with a strange look from the librarian, you sit down and try your best to go through as much as possible. After a few hours of no success, you feel a headache coming on. Leaning back, you let out a deep, tired breath. There are plenty of enchanted weapons, some real and some just legend, but there’s nothing about the specific weapon you’re looking for.

In the story, the dagger is described as being crimson with an obsidian handle. It was originally a sword blessed by a group of fairies to take down a corrupted dragon. However, once the blade had been dipped in the ancient dragon’s blood, the blessing turned into a curse. Somehow the sword was broken but enough remained to create a dagger.

Any cut made by the blade could not be healed. No magic, no potion, no artifact could stop the bleeding. The wounded person would bleed to death. If the person was lucky, they could die in a matter of seconds. Those not so lucky would have an agonizingly slow death. Even if they were to cauterize the wound, the bleeding would continue. It would only stop once the wounded died.

“Very grim,” you mutter under your breath. For such a light hearted novel, the curse of the blade was surprising. However, it’s never used since the main protagonist is able to get it.

“Your highness, is everything alright?” the royal librarian.

Sitting up straight, you clear your throat. “I don’t think I’ll be able to find what I’m looking for. Could you put these back?” You close the book with a thump.

“Of course. Is there anything else you need?”

“No, thank you.” Deciding to head back to your office, you leave the library. By now you know how to navigate your way through the castle.

Your feet move on autopilot as your mind wanders. There must be something you can do. The only other thing you can think of is returning home to see if they’ve found the cursed dagger. Of course this would require you to figure out the relative time frame of when Yūki meets Malleus to when it's found. However, you’re unsure if following the story timeline would even be helpful with how different everything is now.

Arriving back at your office, you eye the stack of documents still left for your review. Plopping down onto the chair unceremoniously, you rub your eyes. Instead of doing the work on your desk, you find the previous book you had been reading. You never thought books about laws would be interesting, but Briar Valley has some strange laws that make reading about them fascinating.

As you flip to the bookmark, you note with some irony that the next chapter is on divorce. Perhaps when your plan had been to divorce Malleus, this would have been helpful. Though, still curious, you decide to read it. Everything about Briar Valley’s laws are complicated, though maybe not as complicated as the Queendom of Roses. There are separate laws for fae, humans, and fae-human issues.

You skip to the section on fae-human divorce since that would apply to you. “ ‘Depending on whether the parties have participated in the soul ceremony, divorce can be rather difficult though not impossible.’ What’s a soul ceremony?”

Before you can continue, Diablo knocks on the door. “Your grace, lunch is being served.” You quickly close the book before following him.

---

You’re silently reading in bed while Malleus goes through some documents. The times he used to come to your room to “hold your hand” has extended to almost every night. Instead of holding your hand, you both comfortably sit in your bed either talking or reading.

Malleus still returns to his room once it’s time for bed. You almost asked him if he wanted to stay the previous night, but you lost your nerves. There’s something very different from just reading in bed to actually sleeping next to him. You wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with him, but it’s almost been an entire year of marriage and you haven’t once slept in the same bed, so you’re unsure about how to bring it up.

Malleus shuffles his papers with a deep sigh. Glancing over at him, he rubs the bridge of his nose while muttering to himself. “Something wrong?” you ask.

He sets the papers aside on the bedside table. “Nothing really. Just that grandmother will be visiting soon. And she’s already placed certain…demands on me.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “She is?!” You had only met her a handful of times. Yet, in those few formal visits, all you can recall is how intimidating both in magic and overall presence she is.

Chuckling, the fae reaches out and squeezes your hand. “No need to worry, my heart. I’ll take care of all the preparations.”

Book forgotten, you turn to him. “What did she ask for?”

“She wants her favorite room overlooking the gardens. She, of course, expects to have dinner with both of us. And a few other things about her daily walks around Briar Valley that I’m sure Diablo can take care of,” he answers, ticking off each one on his fingers.

Fiddling with the sheets, you ask, “Is there anything I can do?”

“Hmm… She didn’t say anything in her letters. But I’m sure she’ll let you know if she wants anything.” His gaze flickers over to the book in your lap.

“I should do something for her. Since it’s been awhile, maybe I can get her some flowers. Or maybe plan an outing? Do you think she’d want to have tea in the gardens? Or maybe…” As you ramble, Malleus takes the book from your lap.

He nods occasionally while he skims the page. His lips press together in a thin line. Brows furrowing, his eyes narrow. You pause when you finally notice he’s not listening. “Malleus?”

Turning away from the book, he asks in a serious tone, “Did I do something wrong?”

Blinking owlishly, you cycle back to the conversation. Yet, nothing comes to mind about what he is referring to. “What are you talking about?”

He gestures to the book. “You’re reading about divorce in regards to fae-human relationships. Did I do something wrong to make you consider divorce?” Though his tone is even, the stormy look in his eyes say otherwise. There’s a flash of lighting outside the window.

Ignoring the sudden change in weather, you shake your head. “I’m not planning to divorce you, Malleus.”

His shoulders relax and his gaze clears. “I see…”

Taking the book away from him, you set it aside. “I’ll tell you the truth. I may have considered divorce at the start of our marriage because I didn’t want you to be unhappy.” ‘I also didn’t want to die’ you add silently. “But I realized that it would be unfair to ask for divorce based on a few months together. And it would be selfish of me to not consider your own feelings.”

“If you aren’t happy here, I’d be fine with a divorce,” he says, his voice strained. “I want you to be happy.”

Leaning against his shoulder, you hum in agreement. “I am happy. And you’re happy too, right?”

“Of course,” he responds without missing a beat.

“Then there’s nothing to worry about.” Except the fact your parents possibly have a weapon that could kill him.

He wraps his arm around your middle, dragging you closer to his side so your head rests against his chest. He leans back against the pillows. You can hear the steady beating of his heart. A comfortable silence falls and you're almost lulled to sleep. The thought of sharing a room pops into your head once more.

“Hey, do you want to share a room?” you inquire, deciding to throw caution to the wind.

Malleus straightens up, which startles your comfortable position. “You wish to share a room?” His eyes are wide.

Sitting up, you find yourself picking at the sheets again. “Well, you basically come here every night, so that would be the most logical thing to do. And we are married, so it wouldn’t be strange if we decided to sleep in the same room.”

Shuffling out of bed, Malleus puts on his dragon slippers. “I will let Diablo know at once to prepare the master bedroom,” he says hurriedly.

“M-Mallues?” He has already gathered his papers and is about to head out before he stops halfway.

He walks back over to you. With a large grin, he leans down and kisses the top of your head. “I almost forgot, my heart. Good night.” Eyes twinkling, he leaves without another word.

Your mouth hangs open for a bit before you snap it closed with a click.

---

In less than a day, your new bedroom is ready. Diablo has your things moved in while you're working. The old butler seems at ease and comments how Malleus is in a wonderful mood. Everyone you pass by smiles brightly at you. You’re almost embarrassed at the fact that it seems everyone knows why he’s in a good mood. But, it’s honestly adorable.

There is a nervous feeling that settles in your stomach as you think about the logistics of sharing a room. For one, you have to share a bathroom, which isn’t much of an issue considering how massive the bathrooms are. The only thing you’re concerned about is possibly being walked in on while changing. It isn’t like you haven’t seen another naked person, but you’re self conscious about the scars on your back.

No one, besides your parents and the few people who treated you on occasion when you were unable to, knows about the scars. They’re all thin and straight, but there are so many. They crisscross from the top of your back to the small of your back. Some are very old while others are only about a year old.

You recall the faces of the few doctors who had seen the scars. Looks of shock and pity aren’t uncommon. One, you recall vividly, did not react at all, but you could see the way her hands shook. Yet, none dared to ask where the marks came from nor did they ever say anything to your parents. They valued their lives far more.

How could you blame them?

Shaking your head to clear out the bad thoughts, you decide you’ll figure out what to do when the time comes. For now, you have to decide what to do with two unexpected visitors.

There had been a commotion at the palace gates that Diablo had come to you about this morning. When you heard what happened, you immediately went to meet them. Now in the drawing room, Yūki sits across from you looking sheepish. Grim happily munches on the food offered by Diablo.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” you start. It’s true since Yūki and Grim are not supposed to come for another two months. It’s just another indication that the story is completely different.

Yūki sighs. “Grim kept nagging about wanting to visit. When he wants to do something, he typically won’t change his mind. I’m sorry for dropping in unannounced.”

You wave off their apology. “It’s fine. I just wanted to be able to prepare for your visit more. Diablo can prepare a guest room. It’s a little busy here because Malleus’s grandmother is visiting soon.” you explain.

“Should we leave? I don’t want to be intruding…” Grim doesn’t seem bothered as he downs a cup of tea. Diablo pours him a refill without missing a beat.

“No, it’s fine. She’s not supposed to be here for another month. So, how are your travels?” you ask, changing the subject.

They seem to relax a bit. “It’s great! We went to visit the Scalding Sands before coming here. We even got to ride a magic carpet!” Their eyes light up as they talk about their newest adventure.

You wonder how they felt in the original novel when they had to stay in Briar Valley at the end. The author didn’t mention much about what happened except that Yūki went on to rule alongside Malleus. It was implied that they never left Briar Valley. Could someone who loved traveling so much really be happy staying in one place?

At some point in the conversation Malleus comes in. He pauses when his gaze lands on Yūki. You watch as he regards them curiously. Yet, it’s only a brief pause before he turns to you to ask you a few questions about a document. He leaves right after without a second look.

A part of you is a little disappointed at the underwhelming moment of their first meeting. However, another part is happy that there isn’t some kind of instant connection between the two. You’re selfish.

“He’s scary,” Grim mutters once Malleus is gone.

“Grim!” Yūki looks at you apologetically.

“What?! I’m just telling the truth! The magic rolling off of him is intense!” The cat waves his paws around. “It’s suffocating! You might not be able to feel it henchhuman, but I can tell!”

“It’s alright. Malleus can seem rather intimidating, but he really isn’t. I promise he’s a gentle, kind soul,” you assure them with a laugh.

Yūki relaxes once more. “He obviously loves you very much,” they state while chewing on a macaron. You face warms. “He only has eyes for you,” they continue “and it seems the feelings are mutual…” A single eyebrow goes up.

Trying to hide your embarrassment, you take a long sip of tea. Clearing your throat, you can’t meet their amused eyes. “Well…yes, they are,” you say in a soft tone. You can’t lie about your feelings. “He has a good heart. We started off rocky, but we’re in a good place now.”

Yūki and Grim both glance at each other. You realize you’re probably smiling like a fool and quickly school your features as best as you can. You steer the conversation to a different topic.

Later, Diablo shows them to the guest room and you head back to your office. There’s still paperwork you need to finish. On your desk is some mail with many of them being letters from other foreign dignitaries. However, one letter causes your blood to run cold. You know that sharp but elegant script as you know the scars on your back.

Rarely have your parents sent letters. Slipping the letter opener under the envelope, you’re almost tempted to burn the letter without looking. But the fact that they sent a letter must mean something important. It’s only a single sheet with only three sentences. You blink a few times before setting down the paper. The page blurs as you feel your chest pounding and a distant, high pitched noise fills your ears.

Dearest child,

Your mother has passed. Come home so our country may mourn her. The funeral will be tomorrow.

Father

Before you can fully realize anything, the door to your office opens. Malleus steps inside with a concerned look in his gaze while holding a piece of paper. Breaking out of your daze, you zero in on the paper in his hand. It’s the same sharp writing. There’s nowhere to hide.

“My heart, I am so sorry,” he says, gently setting down the letter. You can see that your father wrote more to him in the letter. “Are you okay?”

He reaches out but pauses when he notices the look in your eyes. There’s a long pause before you find your voice. “I’m fine. Thank you…” You carefully take your own letter and fold it back into the envelope. “I should prepare to return…” you whisper.

Malleus gently takes your hand in his. “Take all the time you need. I know the mourning process can take time.”

Your heart aches at his kindness. But how can you tell him that you don’t want to go back? That you’re terrified of returning to a place that only holds bad memories? Malleus lost his parents, so he’s no stranger to loss. But you hold no sympathy for the woman who called herself your mother.

“I’ll inform Diablo. Finish up what you need here.” He presses a kiss to your forehead before leaving to find the old butler.

You stand there for a moment. Your heavy breathing is the only sound that you can hear. You stumble your way out of the study. As everything fades in the background, childhood memories come back. Memories of a younger version huddling on the bed, knees draw close to her chest. Always shaking but never crying because it would only lead to further punishment.

A voice calls out as you stumble and fall forward. You hit the ground face first but you don’t register the impact. A hand comes into your lines of vision and you instinctively jerk away.

“Don’t…” you cry out weakly.

Suddenly Yūki’s face appeared into your field of vision. They say something but you don’t really hear. They move away for a bit and return with some water. They press the cup into your hands. They place a gentle hand on your back while rubbing slow circles. Your hands shake as you stare into the cup. As your breathing slows down, the pressure in your chest lessens. After a little longer, you take a slow sip.

“Your highness?” Yūki hesitantly calls to you in a soft tone.

Swallowing, you look around. Somehow, you stumbled your way to Yūki’s guestroom. “I…I’m sorry for barging in on you…” you apologize.

Yūki offers their hand and guides you to a chair. Setting the cup on the table, you sag back into the chair. “Just take your time,” they say, taking a seat as well.

Glancing around, you note that Grim isn’t anywhere to be seen. As if reading your mind, Yūki adds, “Grim went to grab a snack from the kitchen. He probably won’t be back for a while.”

You fiddle with your hands trying to find the words. You’re sure Yūki isn’t the type to gossip, so whatever you tell them would be safe. But should you be dumping your personal problems on someone who you’ve only met a few times?

“I don’t want to burden you with my personal problems…but would you be willing to listen?” The weight of everything has always been there, but you had ignored it. But with the arrival of the letter, you can’t ignore it anymore. Perhaps hearing the advice of someone from the outside would help.

Nodding, Yūki offers an encouraging smile. So you tell them everything. Well almost everything. You tell them about the past, your parents’ plan to take over Briar Valley using your unique magic, the fact that you’ve been lying to Malleus from the beginning, that they may have the one weapon that could kill Malleus. Every word out of your mouth feels like a release. Yūki listens without saying a word and keeping their facial expression straight.

Finally, you finish and it feels like you’ve been speaking for hours. Your throat feels dry, but the weight has been lessened. You wait for Yūki to respond. It’s a lot of information to be telling someone in one sitting.

Clearing their throat, their brows draw together. “Well…sorry but fuck that’s a lot!”

Your eyebrows go up as you stare at each other. Then, you start laughing. You both burst into laughter. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard Yūki say something like that. Wiping away stray tears, you shake your head with a smile.

“Sorry for dumping all that on you. I think I just needed to tell someone.” You sigh. “I’ve been holding that in for so long, but it feels good to at least tell someone.”

They wave off your apology. “You’d be surprised how many of my friends I had to play therapist for. It’s nothing new.”

Despite the reassurance, you can see the slight sag in their shoulders. “Still, you shouldn’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m being a hypocrite since I just did the same thing, but I want you to know it’s okay to just turn away if something becomes too much. You don’t have to fix everyone’s problems.”

Looking away, Yūki chuckles softly. “You’re the first person to tell me that… Thank you.”

You want to tell them that you know about the things they have to go through in the story. But don’t because Yūki isn’t a character in Idia’s book. Despite starting out in what you understood to be a story, you’ve come to realize that the people you’ve interacted with are not characters. They’re people with their own emotions and wills.

Breathing in deeply, you flex your hands. “I’m going to tell Malleus everything. I think it’s time he knew the truth, and he can decide for himself what he wants to do.”

“That’s probably for the best. Lying usually ends up biting you in the ass later on.” You both laugh. “He clearly adores you. So, you just need to trust in him to understand.”

“Right.” You offer Yūki a wide smile. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

---

After a lively dinner thanks to Grim’s antics, you’re getting ready for bed. Malleus is already tucked in reading. Though you plan to tell him everything, you can’t help but move slowly. You had prepared a speech, but now you can’t remember a word.

Standing in the doorway of the bathroom, you regard Malleus. His shoulders are relaxed and his facial expression is almost serene. The stress from hosting his grandmother has all but disappeared. Your heart swells with affection for him. You want to live the rest of your life with him in peace and warmth. And the only way that it can happen is if you tell him the truth. Together you can figure out a way to take care of your parents.

Feeling your gaze, Malleus looks up. “My heart?” His head tilts to the side.

Taking a deep breath, you square your shoulders. “Malleus, I need to tell you something.”

He closes the book, giving you his full attention. “Why don’t you come here and we can talk?”

Hesitating, you shake your head. “I want to stand. What I’m going to tell you will be a lot.” He nods.

As you tell him everything about your life and your parents’ plans, he doesn’t react at all. You pour out all your feelings and thoughts. As the words leave your mouth, you feel even lighter. A sense of relief washes over you as you finish. You wait in agonizing silence as Malleus remains quiet. His gaze is distant as he takes in everything.

Finally, he looks at you. He doesn’t say a word as he holds his arms out to you. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you walk over to the bed. Climbing in the bed, he wraps his arms around your form and pulls you close to him.

You bury your face in his chest. You can only mutter apologizes as he holds your tight. He doesn’t say anything as you quietly sob. After what feels like an eternity, you seem to run out of tears. Your eyes are sore and puffy.

He kisses the top of your head. “Thank you for telling me the truth. It must have been difficult,” he mumbles. “We’ll figure this out together.”

Ear pressed against his chest, you listen to the steady rhythm of his heart. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was too scared,” you admit. “I was afraid you’d hate me.”

“I could never hate you.” He gently wipes away the tears that have stained your cheeks. “However, I am upset. Very much so.”

His green eyes glow dangerously as he glances out the window. Dark clouds roll in and lightning strikes. “Should I go there myself?” he muses.

“Malleus…” Placing a hand against his cheek, you turn his head so he looks at you. “Don’t do anything rash. My father is to blame not the people of my country. You can’t just go in and wipe out the country.”

Frowning, he looks thoughtful before he smiles sharply. “How about I just kill him, my heart. Or I can give you the honor of doing that.”

Leaning against his chest, you shake your head. “He might have that weapon…”

“I’ll squish before he even has a chance to think about using it.”

“This would be considered a criminal act.”

“What your parents did to you and planned to do with me are criminal acts. I’m only ending this before it can lead to something worse.”

“I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Then I’ll do it for you.”

Letting out a deep sigh, you smile to yourself as you tighten your hold on Malleus. “Let’s talk about what to do tomorrow. But thank you for offering to help despite everything.”

“Of course. I would do anything for you.”

---

The next day you wake up feeling at peace. Malleus knows the truth and he still cares about you. You don’t have to go back to that place. Stretching, Malleus tightens his hold around your waste.

You still can’t believe that someone as regal as Malleus likes to cuddle. Most mornings you spend a few minutes trying to get out of his hold. He can be rather clingy first thing in the morning. It’s cute.

“We need to get up,” you say, trying to worm your way out of his hold. He hums before releasing you.

Malleus sits up as you find your slippers. You can feel his stare and quickly look up. He’s frowning with his brows pinched together. “What’s wrong?”

“Your scars…I didn’t realize…”

Right, you usually hide them long before he can see them. But last night’s confession had taken a lot out of both of you. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, Malleus.”

Eyes narrowing, he shakes his head. “I need to talk to Lilia about what we should do.” He pauses, his brow smooths as he regards you. “Can I tell him everything you told me?”

You hesitate for a second but agree. “Yes. You trust Lilia, so I’ll trust him too.” If you’re going to do this without blowing up an entire country, you’ll need help. And Lilia seems rather level-headed under all the teasing.

Malleus leans over to peck you on the cheek. “I’ll see him now. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I’m going to head to my office once I check up on Yūki and Grim.” You feel your mouth stretch into a goofy grin as he pulls away. You’re pretty sure the butterflies in your stomach when he kisses you will never go away.

Once you’re clean and dressed, you make your way to the guest room. Yūki and Grim are already out, though the feline looks half asleep. “Morning, you two.”

Yūki gives a short wave before a yawn overtakes them. They quickly cover their mouth. “Mornin’....”

“It’s too early to be up!” Grim grumbles.

You chuckle as he yawns. “I’m sure the cooks have prepared something tasty for breakfast.”

That perks him up. “What are we standing here for?! Let's go!” He rushes ahead as Yūki follows at a slower pace.

“So… is everything okay?” They give you a sideways glance.

“Yeah. He took it well.” You give a small nod. “Thank you for listening yesterday.”

“Of course.” They offer a reassuring smile. “I was also thinking about what you said yesterday…about not needing to fix everyone’s problems…”

“Yes?”

Chewing on their lower lip, they’re silent as you near the dining room. They relax a bit when Grim turns around to beckon for them to hurry up. “You’re right. I don’t need to fix everyone’s problems. I need to learn when to take a step back and say no. I’m going to work on that. I just wanted to let you know.”

“It might take a bit of practice, but it’s good you’re taking your own feelings and well-being into consideration.” Patting them on the back, you two share a look before they’re pulled away by Grim’s shouting.

A flash near the window catches your eye and your blood runs cold. “Your majesty?” Diablo calls to you, worry etched on his wizened face. He looks out but doesn’t react. “Is something the matter?”

“D-did you see him?” you ask, your hands curl into fists.

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I did not see anything. Should I have the guards take a look?”

You pause. You don’t want to cause a scene if it’s nothing. But you also wouldn’t put it past your father to show up uninvited to drag you home. “Yes, have someone take a look. If they find Duke Wynters, please send him away.”

Without further explanation, Diablo leaves. You let out a deep breath. It could just be your own fears playing tricks on you. Joining Grim and Yūki for breakfast, you try your best to forget about it.

However, after breakfast Diablo reports that the guards did not find anyone. Not even a trace of magic. Despite that, you’re still on edge as you head to your office. Hand hovering over the door knob, the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. Grasping the handle, you throw open the door to your study with a bang.

There’s no one inside. Everything is in its usual place. You let out another deep breath and shake your head. Taking a seat, you take the nearest stack of papers to start work. You throw the stack across the room as if burned.

The letter that you had burned flutters to the floor. You jump up. “Diab-!”

A cold hand clamps down on your arm. “Don’t.” Duke Wynter’s grip is strong despite his age. Old memories hold you in place as fear settles in.

“You know, I was so disappointed when you didn’t come home for your own mother’s funeral. Tsk…” His voice is calm, but you know better.

“H-how did you-” You hate that your voice shakes.

“Get in here? There are things magic artifacts can do that can even trick a mighty dragon.” He snorts. “Now, we’re going home. And I’m sure your dear husband will follow.” He bares his teeth in a ruthless smile.

Duke Wynters pulls a small pocket mirror from his breast pocket. He tosses it out and it expands into a full length mirror. A disembodied face stares back at you. “Take us back home, Mirror,” he orders.

“As you command,” the mirror murmurs. The surface of the mirror ripples and slowly changes until it shows the image of the manor. Gripping your arm tightly, he drags you toward it.

You don’t want to go, but fear grips your body. So, you let your panic swell along with your magic. The room becomes so cold you can see your own breath. Your vision blurs as Duke Wynters screams and something explodes.

Then everything goes black.

---

Malleus sends the doors of the study flying off. The entire study has been destroyed. The windows have been blown out and a thick layer of ice coats everything. His breath comes out in small puffs of fog.

He shouts your name. The frozen chandelier shakes.

Lilia places a hand on his arm. “They’re gone. Most likely back to his home. We need to leave now if we want to catch up to them.”

Turning to Sebek and Silver, Lilia gives them both a hard look. “Malleus and I will go after the queen. You both stay here and make sure everything is okay.”

They both give him a salute. “Please take care, father,” Silver says, forgoing the formalities.

“Stay safe, your majesty!” Sebek bows deeply to Malleus.

The two fae give one last nod before they vanish.

Standing at the entrance to your home, it’s oddly quiet and deserted. Dark, gloomy clouds loom threateningly in the distance. For a brief moment Malleus wishes he could have seen you during your childhood. But that thought quickly fades as he remembers the scars that criss-cross your back. Bitterness fills his mouth and anger boils to the surface.

The front gate is locked, but he simply blows it away with a snap of his fingers. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Lilia gives Malleus a reassuring squeeze. “Everything is going to be okay. But…maybe we shouldn’t destroy everything.”

There’s a beat of silence before Malleus calms himself, though his fists remain clenched. “Let’s head inside.”

They enter the home but there’s still not a soul to be found. There’s an eeriness to the dead silence. Passing rooms, there’s evidence of the occupants hastily leaving. The two fae follow the strong presence of magic. They enter an outdoor courtyard though it looks like it’s seen better days.

There in the middle sits a figure slumped over. Malleus’s eyes widen as he rushes over calling your name. However, he’s stopped by another voice. “I’m so glad you could come, your majesty.” Duke Wynters stands on a balcony that overlooks the courtyard. Malleus notes he seems to favor his left side. Small flecks of ice cling to his tattered coat sleeve.

Clenching his teeth, his hands itch to burn him without thought. But the smug look on the man’s face makes him cautious. He has something up his sleeve if he can confidently speak down to two powerful fae.

“Let her go,” he orders. “And I will make your death a merciful one.”

The duke cackles. He gestures to the still slumped over figure. “Unfortunately, I cannot give you my dear daughter unless you’re willing to make a deal.”

His eyes burn with disgust. “Or I could just kill you right now.”

“You could. But then you’d also be killing her.” Duke Wynters raises both hands and starts moving his fingers. Now, Malleus can see what’s going on. Thin strings of magic are connected to each of the duke’s fingers. And they’re attached to you.

Your body suddenly moves. You jerkily raise your head and stand up. You're holding a dagger in one hand. Like a puppet, you mechanically point the blade at him. The strange crimson metal gleams under the low light. However, Malleus can see the pain and panic in your eyes. Despite your body being controlled, you’re fully conscious of what’s going on.

The duke continues, “You see, my unique magic allows me to control a person’s body like a marionette. However, my life and their life are connected until I end the magic. I believe you’re a smart one, you understand what I’m saying.” He grins sharply.

“What do you want?” Malleus finally asks.

The man chuckles. “All you need to do is to take her place. Call off your man and promise no harm shall come to me. In return, I’ll release your beloved.”

“How can I guarantee that once I die, you’ll keep your word?”

“Malleus I don-” Lilia is cut off with a look.

The duke sighs. “Honestly, you should have more faith in your father-in-law. But I will make a magic oath with you.”

Malleus doesn’t hesitate. “I accept.”

A wide, crazed grin forms on the duke’s face. “I knew you’d make the smart choice!”

“Malleus!” Lilia protests. “Don’t do this!”

“What choice do I have, Lilia?” Tears are streaming down your face. “If I don’t do this, she’ll die. And if she’s gone, I…I might as well be dead.”

The older fae can’t find any words. Of course he wants the queen back. But if Briar Valley loses their king, he’s not sure what will happen. However, Lilia can’t think of a way out of this. If what the duke told them of his unique magic is true, then they can’t kill him without killing you. And even if it might not be true, Malleus isn’t the type to take that sort of gamble. Not with you on the line.

Duke Wynters sighs. “This could have all been avoided if my dear stupid child had followed the plan. Instead she goes and falls in love with you.” Clucking his tongue, he shakes his head with feigned sadness. “That blade she’s holding is special. We spent so much time and resources looking for something that could kill such a powerful creature like you. The blade is cursed so that no wound made with it can be healed with magic or potions.”

Suddenly you start to jerkily walk toward Malleus while wielding the blade. The fear in your eyes shines brightly as you hold the blade inches from where his heart is. Your hand shakes.

Malleus meets your gaze. He had vowed to never make you unhappy, but it seems he’s unable to keep that promise. Reaching out, he cups your face and brushes away the tears. “Do not worry, my heart, everything will be okay.” Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he can feel the blade’s point press into him. He closes his eyes.

“NO!” The shout that breaks through the tense silence chills him to the bone. Eyes opening, he only briefly sees you smiling through your tears with the blade plunged deep into your chest. You crumble to the ground.

The duke lets out a horrified scream that turns into a choke gurgle. He clutches at his chest as he loses his balance. He falls forward and plummets from the balcony. His body hits the ground with a sickening crunch.

However, Malleus is preoccupied with the blood that seeps from your body. Holding you close to him, he attempts to use magic on the wound. He ignores the blood that soaks into his clothes. But the blade only seems to absorb it. He mutters an apology as he pulls the blade out and attempts to heal the wound. Still nothing happens.

His voice cracks, “Lilia, what do I do?!” For the first time, Malleus is powerless.

Lilia shakes his head. “I don’t know…”

Your eyes flutter open. You attempt to touch him but you have no energy, so your hand falls uselessly aside. Malleus cradles your body. “Don’t leave me! Please!”

Your eyes glaze over. “No!” Malleus screams your name, but you don’t move. Dark clouds block out the sky and the wind howls outside as green lightning flashes.

A loud, mournful roar shakes the very earth.

---

You wake to bright fluorescent lights and the sound of a steady beeping noise. There’s also the familiar music of Idia’s favorite idol game playing. Turning your head to the sound, you spot Idia sitting in a chair with his eyes glued to his phone. It’s strange seeing him. Your head feels like mush as you try to gather your thoughts. Your heart throbs painfully for a moment before the feeling fades.

“Idia?” you call him.

He looks up from his screen, eyes widening. “You’re finally awake!”

Trying to piece together the last thing you remember, you ask, “What’s going on?”

“You fell down the stairs to the subway.” He pauses his game. “The doctors said you might be confused. Do you still remember everything?”

Sitting up, you glance at the clock on the wall with a slow nod. “How long was I out?”

“About a day.”

Touching the back of your head, you wince. “Are you sure? I swear it feels like I’ve been asleep for a long time.”

“Yup. You left me a message yesterday. By the way, it’s not a cringe book! Only noobs like you would think that,” he scoffs.

“Book?” Your head feels like a jumbled mess.

He rummages through his backpack before pulling out a familiar book. “The one I lent you. ‘Melting the Dragon King’s Heart’ is a heartfelt strangers-to-friends-to-lovers royal romance! It has everything you could ask for! Evil queen, hot dragon fae, spunky protagonist and a talking cat!”

You take the book from him. Frowning, you stare at the cover. The dragon king looks like a generic dark haired man. Yet, it looks wrong. “Are you sure he always looked like this?”

“What’s wrong with the way Malford looks?” You can see the annoyance in his face.

“Malford? Are you sure that’s his name?” You point to the cover. “I swear he looked different…”

Idia shrugs. “The dragon king is Malford Drago. He’s always looked like that. Yeesh! I know you didn’t like the story but at least pay attention to the main leads.”

When trying to remember, your head throbs painfully. Letting out a deep sigh, you fall back into the pillow. “Maybe I did hit my head harder than I thought…”

Glancing at the time, India starts packing up. “Visiting hours are almost over. I’ll let the nurses know you’re awake and come back tomorrow. Do you want me to bring anything for you?”

“I’m good. Thanks, Idia.” Smiling briefly, you close your eyes as you suddenly feel tired. Even as you drift off again, you feel like something’s missing.

---

A month after your fall down the subway stairs, you’re darting across the street. Dodging cars and people, you shout into the phone pressed to your ear. “I’ll be there in a few hours, Idia! I promise! I just forgot to grab some food.”

“I have food,” he grumbles. You can hear battle music in the background.

“You have cavity-inducing candy! I need real food!” You skillfully weave your way through the people. “The raid can wait, my stomach can’t. I’ll text you when I’m heading over.” You end the call before Idia can argue further.

Despite going back to your usual routine, something feels off. The doctor had reassured you that you might feel a bit confused, but that you would be fine. You feel like something is missing. When you’re sleeping, you have such vivid dreams. Yet, when you wake up, you can’t recall anything and there’s a painful throbbing in your chest. When you checked with your doctor, they just passed it off as part of your body’s response to the accident. You tried your best to ignore it since then.

Pausing, you realize you’re standing near the subway. The same place where you fell because you weren’t paying attention. Tucking your phone into your pocket, you carefully descend down the stairs. You’re only halfway down when someone bumps into you.

“Hey!” The perpetrator rushes down without looking back.

Grumbling under your breath, you take a step. But your foot misses. You briefly wonder what Idia will say when he finds out you're in the hospital again. However, the fall never comes because the person coming up the stairs reaches out to save you.

Pressed against them, you meet familiar green eyes. They’re wide with surprise. “Are you okay?” Something about the voice sends a spark through your body. You know that voice.

Righting yourself, you frantically nod. “Y-yes! Thank you!”

He smiles. “Of course.” He pauses, brows furrowing. “You’re the one from before.”

“Huh?” You’re pretty sure you’ve never met despite the strange feeling.

He nods. “Yes, I remember. You fell down the stairs a few weeks ago. I tried to catch you but unfortunately didn't make it. I’m glad to see you’re okay, though.”

So he was the voice that called to you when you fell. “I…thank you for catching me this time. I should be more careful.”

When he smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Maybe keep both eyes forward. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt again.”

“…” You don’t know what else to say. He’s breathtakingly beautiful and even more so when he smiles. His sharp green eyes are warm when they meet your gaze. You’re usually not the type to fall for a pretty face, but you can’t deny the instant attraction.

He seems to take your silence as the end of the conversation. “It’s nice to see you again. I hope you stay safe.” He nods before heading upstairs.

You stand there on the step frozen. The further he gets, the more your heart aches. Why? Touching your chest, you bite the inside of your cheek. Taking a deep breath, you rush back up. Looking around frantically, you see him already halfway down the street.

“W-wait!” you shout. Phone pressed to his ear, he turns with a slight frown, but his expression softens when he sees you.

You rush across the street, nearly getting hit by a car. They honk loudly while yelling unintelligible out the window. Ignoring them, you rush to him. Trying to calm your erratic heart, you take a deep breath.

“Let me call you back, Lilia,” you hear him say into the phone before ending the call and tucking the phone into his pocket. “Are you okay?” he asks, a single eyebrow raised.

You nod. “I-I wanted to ask if you’d like to grab a drink with me if you’re not busy. To thank you for saving me.” Yes, that sounds like a valid excuse. And it's not like Idia expects you anytime soon.

He tilts his head to the side. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” You swallow nervously. “If you want to, that is…”

He regards you silently before agreeing. “I’d love to.”

Beaming, you hold out your hand. “Great. I’m (Y/N).”

When he takes your hand to shake, butterflies fill your stomach. He eyes your clasped hands with interest. “I’m Malleus,” he replies.

You stand there like an idiot still holding his hand. But he doesn’t seem to want to let go either. Your heart feels full and for the first time since the accident, the pain is no longer there.

Tag list: @candlewitch-cryptic, @whatstheoccasion, @nimko, @yo4sblog, @mc-cos-charm, @mochiclouds, @41sh4, @unloadingdata, @noctifer-cynoct, @rincommittedarsin, @liesatemyocean , @mavix

#twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #reader insert #scenario

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a-soft-hornytiny · 1 year

Text

Loved.

Summary: They don’t love me as much as I love them was what you thought while leaving for the better. And it was too late when they realized how important you are to them.

Word count: 1.5k+

Genre: Angst

Pairing: poly!ateez x neutral!reader

Warnings: neglect (be careful while reading) let me know if i missed something.

Notes: this is an anon request, thanks for requesting. It reminded me of the reaction i did to you distancing yourself hehe i rarely write angst and im not sure how happy i am with it but I hope it’s to your liking!

Part 2 is up!

Taglist: after the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)

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Where did it go wrong? You thought while frantically packing your things. You had spent hours and hours to find what you did to deserve this but you couldn’t find anything. Nothing pointed towards you doing something wrong but nonetheless you were here, aggressively stuffing your things into a bag while tears were streaming down your face.

It had started about a month ago. You should’ve been suspicious when they started coming home even later than usual, some of them not at all. Always telling you that there was a meeting at work and that they had already eaten, leaving you to sit at the dining table alone. In the beginning you had still waited for them, hoping every day that at least one of them would be there and have dinner with you but it was always the same.

“Sorry.” “The boss invited us for dinner.” “I’m so tired I need to go to sleep.” “We had take out at work.”

It left you confused. There was a time where they fought about who can sit next to you during the meals but now it seemed like they didn’t care anymore. You had only realised what exactly was happening when you saw a picture on Wooyoung phone. A picture of them with one of their colleagues. A beautiful woman with a bright smile, surrounded by your boyfriends.

Jealousy had immediately risen inside of you but you didn’t say anything. It was not like they weren’t allowed to spend time with other people. Instead, you let your doubts eat you from the inside. Did they eat with her every day? Was she the reason they stayed at work longer than they would normally? Was she better than you?

The worst part was that they didn’t notice. They didn’t notice how you felt and that you were distancing yourself. You would’ve thought that at least one of them cares. But all they cared about was being with that woman.

What hurt you the most was that they didn’t tell you about her. If they had been honest with you, you wouldn’t have created all these scenarios in your head. But they lied to you.

“Yeosang?” You tried to get his attention by tapping his shoulder. It was rare that all eight of them were at home. You wanted to talk about it. Voice your anxious thoughts. Letting them go. “Who is that woman you all have been hanging around?” You asked him because you knew he would be honest with you. The room instantly became silent.

“Oh? Do you mean Haeun? She works with us.” Yeosang answered, not giving you a lot of information. “Why do you ask?”

You didn’t know what to say. “I-.. I’m just curious.” You stuttered, looking down at your feet.

“She is really fun to be around! Recently she even invited us for dinner and paid.” San said excitedly. His words stabbed right into your heart. This was worse than you expected.

They weren’t cheating on you. You somehow could feel that. It was worse. They hadn’t been doing anything with a bad intention. They simply enjoyed spending time with her.

They took you for granted.

From that conversation on you decided not to chase after them anymore. You didn’t wait until they came home to eat dinner. You didn’t ask them how their day was. The few messages that you got during the day, you ignored. If they wanted to tell you something they could tell you in person.

Your boyfriends on the other side didn’t realize how much time they were spending with Haeun. And how less they were spending time with you.

The first one to notice that something was weird about you was Mingi. He had always left you a message during the day. Sometimes about work, what they ate for lunch or when they would be coming home. And normally you would respond relatively quickly. But you didn’t answer at all.

He sat in his practice room, eyes glued on his phone. Read two hours ago. It said on his screen. Mingi had voiced his concerns to the others but they disagreed saying that you didn’t behave differently. But he missed you. He wanted to eat dinner with you. Yes, Haeun was fun and when she first got introduced to the team, it was exciting to meet someone new. But he missed the familiarity. It had always been important to Mingi that he was not taken for granted and now he was afraid that they had done exactly that to you.

But he didn’t act on his feelings. He didn’t want to cause drama where there was none.

The second one to miss you was Jongho. “Y/n what do you…” He wanted to ask you for your opinion on his singing when he turned around and faced an empty room. Right, Y/n isn’t here. He reminded himself, immediately feeling a sting in his heart. Every Tuesday you would follow him to practice and listen to him sing. But as soon as he thought about it he realized that you hadn’t been there in multiple weeks. Jongho instantly remembered Mingi’s concerns and decided to go look for him.

When they finally opened up about their feelings and what they had been observing, Mingi and Jongho went to tell the others.

Before they could even finish what they were trying to say, Seonghwa tried to call you. He was blaming himself for not giving you the attention you deserved. He wanted to beat himself up. It was so clear now that Mingi and Jongho had mentioned it.

How could they neglect you like this and not even notice?

And that was the same question you asked yourself as you zipped up your bag. Just as you wanted to put your phone into your pocket, it started ringing. It was Seonghwa. You took a deep breath as you declined the call and left the apartment.

You didn’t know for how long or how far but you needed to get away. Right after getting into the taxi you had ordered, you turned off your phone indefinitely.

“Y/n isn’t answering.” Seonghwa announced, his voice shaking.

“Get in the car. I’m driving us home.” Yunho said, leaving the room with big steps. The others following him. Yunho’s mind was racing. He wanted to stay calm. He needed to stay calm. He had to be strong. It didn’t matter how he felt, all he wanted was to see your face and make sure everything is fine. It was all just imagination. You will be waiting at home. He tried to tell himself while he was getting into the car.

Hongjoong was trying to remember any signs of you changing while he was squeezing himself into the car. He had never been home as much as the others so it wasn’t strange for him to eat alone or to sneak into the bedroom without waking anyone up. But something had been strange. This morning, when he came out of the bathroom, he caught you staring at him. And he could swear you had tears in your eyes. But since you didn’t say anything he had assumed you were fine. This damn assumption.

When they finally arrived at their apartment, San immediately jumped out of the car and ran to the door.

“Y/n? Y/n!” He called you before he even entered the building. Wooyoung and Yeosang were right behind him. After finally opening the door they stormed in searching for you in their home. The rest followed them slowly, scared to not find you.

It wasn’t until he heard a sob that Wooyoung slowed down. A sob? He made his way over to your room, gently pushing the door open. His eyes widened as he saw San kneeling in front of your bed, a note in his hands and his face buried in your sheets.

“Sannie?” Wooyoung slowly walked closer to his loved one. “Y/n…” San sobbed, not able to form a sentence. “What is it Sannie?” Wooyoung kneeled down next to him, softly taking the note from his hands. As he started reading, tears formed in his eyes.

And that was when the others finally found them. They looked at Wooyoung, hope and pain in their eyes at the same time as he slowly shook his head. Yeosang’s legs gave in as he saw the expression on Wooyoung’s face. You were gone. No no no that’s impossible he thought, staring to the ceiling with a blank face. You couldn’t leave them.

Still not wanting to believe what was happening, Yunho harshly snapped the note out of Wooyoung’s hand.

I am going on a trip. Don’t text or call me, I need time to think. I hope you understand. I loved you so much.

His head went numb.

Loved.

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Tags: @jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives

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#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez story #neutral!reader #ateez angst #angst #fanfiction #ateez fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #ateez fanfic #poly!ateez #kpop #kpop angst #kpop imagines #request #anon #📌

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