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space-mermaid-writing · 2 years

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could you write something where Reader and Stephen are married and have a son but something goes wrong in your universe maybe it was stephens fault maybe not but he dies. Somehow reader and her kid get relocated to another universe (616) and are just out going for a walk when the kid starts getting excited and shouting look it's dad, hey dad and runs over and hugs 616 stephen and stephen looks so perplexed and the kid is still hugging him and you have to pull him off and explain that yes that's stephen but not your stephen that his dad is gone and just basically just stab me in the feelings lol and whatever stephens reaction to this would be? 🌌

Tags: feels

Ko-fi | Masterlist | Word count: 1044

Chapter's Note: You want to be stabbed in the feelings? I‘ll stab you in the feelings! Here you go. Have fun. - I wrote this last night, so it‘s a bit of a mess. Just like it needs to be.

Life could be better. It became simpler after you had jumped universes. But you struggled. You hadn’t jumped by choice. Neither you nor your son had.

Your universe had been dying. An incursion caused by the very man you loved, the father of your son. He hadn’t done it on purpose, it had been an accident. A terrible, irreversible mistake. And he had used the last of his magic to bring you both here. To safety.

You would have preferred to die with Stephen. But your son should live, that had been Stephen's wish and you respected that, trying your best now as a widow and single mother.

This new universe was similar enough that you were able to integrate well. Similar enough that you sometimes forgot what happened, only to be reminded the next moment of what was missing at your side: Stephen. It stabbed your heart every time.

Your son, Vince, was six years old, had just finished pre-school and had experienced enough magic in his short life that he understood the explanation that his father was on another world without the possibility of ever coming back.

He missed him terribly. So did you.

You built a new life for yourselves. A modest one, without magic, without dangers. You lived in the suburbs, far away from New York. The city held too many memories of what you had lost, and you couldn't bear to be reminded of that every day. Besides, there was the danger of running into someone there who recognized your face. It was better not to spend too much time there.

That said, however, now you are back in New York with Vince for a short visit. Your son had begged you for weeks to visit his favorite museum, the AMNH. He loved it and they currently had a special exhibition about dinosaurs.

You had eventually given in and promised him this trip. And Vince loved it.

Afterwards you went to Central Park and to look for his favorite ice cream stand. It didn't exist in this world, but you found waffles that were just as good. Eating them you sat on a bench and enjoyed the sunshine.

Vince was so happy that it was worth it. And you are also feeling better than you thought you would. Your arrival in this universe had been two years ago, maybe you could finally move on.

The park was a popular place, full of people walking their dogs or sitting on blankets on the grass reading or picnicking. Everyone was in a good mood and it was contagious.

Suddenly, Vince jumped up excitedly. "Daddy!" He dropped the rest of his waffle and ran across the meadow. Startled, you almost choked before hurrying to follow him. Your eyes are wide as you spot Vince standing by a man who really looked like Stephen Strange.

Shit.

Of all the eight million people in this city, you had to run into him. You shouldn't have made the mistake of coming so close to Greenwich.

This Stephen had stopped, looking down at the boy in confusion. Next to him was a teenage girl you didn’t recognize.

Your heart pounded loudly in your chest as you saw the spitting image of your deceased love. How were you going to explain this to Vince?

Vince had his little arms wrapped around Stephen's waist. "Daddy!" he cried joyfully at the reunion.

"I'm so sorry." You rush to pull your son away from him. "You look just very similar to his father. Sorry to bother you."

Your head hung low and you wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. But Vince wasn't having it. Understandably he was being difficult about the situation, so you picked him up.

"Y/N?" this other Stephen asked, and you close your eyes for a moment before putting on a neutral expression and slowly turning to face him. Hearing your name out of his mouth brought back old memories. Painfully fond memories.

"Hey..." It was awkward and you had no idea what to say. Of course, he knows you in this world too, even if you don't know what kind of relationship you have here.

Stephen tried to assess the situation. His eyebrows drawn together as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

Now, that you could see him close, you notice that he looked a little different than your Stephen. Good thing, because you don't know if you could stand it otherwise.

When no one said anything, you raised your voice again. "Sorry again. I didn't mean to bother you and… your daughter?" Your gaze briefly wandered to the teenager, who was watching you thoughtfully.

"She's not my daughter," Stephen said at the same moment she stated, "You're not from here."

You took her statement as a way out of here. "That's right. And we gotta leave."

"No, I mean, you're not from this universe."

Double shit.

Stephen raised his eyebrows.

"Mommy, why is daddy so weird?" Vince asked softly on your arm. You gave him a kiss on the forehead to calm him down.

"I think you have some explaining to do," the wrong Stephen said.

"No." You shifted your stand and looked at him. "No, I don't think I have to." With that, you turned and left. The situation was too much. Both for you and for Vince. Your top was wet at the shoulder, where he was sobbing into your shirt. He didn't understand why the man who looked like his father and talked like his father didn't act like his father.

"Y/N." His voice made you stop, but you didn't turn around. "We can take you back to your home."

"There's nothing left to go back to." It hurt to say the words and a lump formed in your throat.

There was a brief pause in which Stephen seemed to contemplate things. "In your universe, you and I... he..." You looked at him, tears forming in your eyes. You nodded, unable to speak. "What's his name?" Stephen asked.

"Vince Strange."

With that, you left without another glance back.

Maybe one day you'd be strong enough to seek out the Sanctum. When your heart was no longer bleeding. When Vince was old enough to demand more answers.

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

Okay, but imagine: a young adult Vince coming to the Sanctum to meet the man that’s the closest being to his own lost father. To talk to him, to get an idea of what his real father has been like. Are you crying? Good. You’re welcome.

#Stephen Strange #Stephen Strange x reader #Multiverse of Madness #Mom #angst/comfort #Angst #Space Mermaid Writing #feelings #crying #stab me in my feelings

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pallanophblargh · 7 months

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I’ve basically been dead as far as online presence and art is concerned, mostly due to keeping busy with life stuff. There is currently a recently spayed cat wearing a shirt in my house, I’m playing houseplant musical chairs, that kind of stuff.

But here’s a few crude scribbles of a curly ‘noph lady who I’m finding fun to draw. I should compile another pallanoph sketch dump when I’m less lazy.

#pallanophs #sketchbook #personal art #creature design #love when my camera skews the crap out of a sketch #on top of the drawing already being wonky haha #art muses are hard to come by these days #I have plenty of things to blame but mostly it’s me #anyway this lady looks like she’d be soft #curly hair is fun to draw #expressing my hair envy via imagined creatures heh #can’t be normal about it nope #I can feel the seasonal affective disorder kicking in and that’s fun #I’ve achieved what feels like peak laziness/lack of motivation #I’ll get over it just stab me with a poker

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comics-centalx · 5 months

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Ok. I just need to take a moment and say I absolutely love how Wally's reactions while dodging an alien hurtling towards him out of his 𝘞𝘐𝘍𝘌'𝘚 mouth are normal, but then his finishing expression and pose is like a Greek statue.

His face just goes from pure shock to ✨𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤✨.

Honestly, it gives me "I want you to draw me like one of your French girls" vibes.

Don't even get me started on Dick's reaction, lmao.

#Wally West #dc comics #dc universe #the flash #linda park #dick grayson #nightwing #Dick's instincts are wild #like wally had superspeed so its not that shocking he dodged so easily but Dick?#Dick is literally a normal person who probably doesn't even know whats coming at him and was just like #“I need to stab stab with my electric stick”#He literally has the definition of surprised pikachu face XD #birdflash #Wally realizing when he dodged he left Dick wide open and in the crossfire and having nothing but pure fear and regret on his face is just #AHHHHHGHGHGGG #i love them your honor #their relationship is everything to me #Feel bad for linda #I hate puking in general but having an actual LIVING thing come out of ur mouth is just EHGHUGHUGHU

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blackkatdraws2 · 7 months

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I found a cool Narrator on Tumblr and I felt the overwhelming urge to draw something about him!!

[Narrator belongs to @alumiasgo HE'S WONDERFUL]

#I love his dark eyes #I love his blank smile #I love how scary he is #he gives off an evil aura and I love that about him #I feel like if he were to stab me behind the back I would thank him sincerely #the stanley parable #the stanley parable ultra deluxe #tsp #tspud #tsp artists appreciation #tsp fandom #tsp narrator #narrator tsp #narratorverse #paraverse #my drawing museum

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luck-of-the-drawings · 4 months

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HAVNT ANIMATED IN A HHHOOOOTT MINUTE AND I WANNA GET BACK INTO IT. this here is super scuffed n cheap but it EXISTS NONETHELESS and i like it and wanna share. i love making these silly lil guys move.. jrwi is such a cartoon in my beautiful brain and mind

#jrwi fanart #jrwi show #jrwi riptide #jrwi riptide spoilers #HEHEHWEEEEE I LOVE THE GILLION NIGHTMARE ARC...im also doodlin up a lil animation where he stabs himself #THIS IS ALL PRACTICE THOUGH. IM STILL WORKIN ON THAT FUUUUCKING LORD OF LIGHTNING ANIMATION I STARTED LITERLY YEARS AGO #SLOWLY BUT SURELY THAT BITCH IS GONNA BE DONE #AND IM GONNA PUT IT TO MUSIC!!! IVE NEVER PUT A WHOLE ANIMATION TO SOUND BEFORE #NEVER FIGURED OUT THAT AUDIO HOO HAA #in the meantime though im PLAYING im having FUN HERE!!! i love animating.... i love animatin so much....#OH AULSO AAUUUUGHGH FUCKINNNG #the one n only condi condifiction liked it on twitter... THATS SOOOO COOOL IT BLOWS MY LIL MIND WHEN ARTISTS I LOOK UP TO GAZE UPON ME #i dont like to make a big deal out of it where everyone can see bc. yknow. we're all artists here. we're all justa buncha guys here #it feels weird to point out someone like that like HAIII HAIII I SAW U LIKED MY THINGGGG #its not weird when other ppl do it though like thats fine. but ME doing it. well. inconceivable.#but this is MY TAGS my secret little scrolls i bury beneath my art #and booyyy im KICKIN MY LITTLE LEEGGS SQUEALING AND GIGGLING AND SUCH HEHEHE WEEEEEEE!!!

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genericpuff · 1 month

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the funniest thing happened while i was at the convention

i was doing my walkarounds to other tables to say hi, treat myself to some prints and stickers, and either just get to know anyone who i didn't know or reconnect with those who i did and hadn't seen since last year

one such table included a duo of very nice ladies who specialize in making D&D dice, who i remembered from last year

we shot the shit over how the convention had gone for both of us, and it ended with one of them saying to me "okay, I said the most embarrassing thing to you last year that's kept me up at night" and i'm like oh god what, i've definitely already forgotten about it so let's have a laugh

"well last year when you were here you told me it was your first time working as a vendor at a convention and i told you that you were on your way to becoming a professional artist. and then after the convention i checked your instagram and saw you're a tattoo artist so you're already a professional artist so that was a whoops"

and as these things go, i don't remember them saying that to me at ALL and def had no ill will towards it LMAOO so i said it then and i'll say it again here if those pals happen to read this at any point - I hope you can finally get some sleep at night knowing that there are no hard feelings LMAO it was very nice to see you again and if you're ever in my area, I'd be down to tattoo you sometime ;3

#tbf i still don't feel like a 'professional artist'#i'm just an artist who gets paid to stab people aahahahah #my lawyer has advised me to add *with ink as a disclaimer #what a spoil sport #/joking

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haemosexuality · 4 months

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funniest part of seeing someone react to arcane will always be "omg mylo is so annoying shut up kid" *mylo straight up dies* "😨"

#idk why i feel so bad for mylo specifically. maybe bc theres just not much to claggor #but mylo being an asshole is almost endearing in hindsight like thats just a teenager. thats some kid id know from school. and he just DIES #its so horrifying. its so like. episode 3 of arcane will always be my favorite fuck man #it feels like someone pouring ice cold water on you. wake up call. hey this isnt going to be a nice show look at the fucking reality of this #theres like a split second after mylo gets that piece of whatever stabbed into him where he grabs it and looks at claggor #before looking up and seeing the ceiling fall on him #and it makes me want to cry #arcane #mylo arcane

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inkblot22 · 3 months

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Truss

Woohoo Malleus woohoo! I'm making the trigger list a bit bigger because I keep thinking about how people will totally skip reading it if it's too small and then blame the writer for their own mistake. That shit is clown behavior but I don't want to be held responsible for someone else's case of stupid, so sorry to those of you who think this looks clunky. Line divider found here: @/cafekitsune. This is also a fic that is wildly self-indulgent, in that I mean that while writing I visualized my own physical form and quirks.

That being said, this fic is written with afab (assigned female at birth) readers in mind. No pronouns other than you are used for the reader, but the reader does possess a womb. Reader's chest is not described in the least, just the lower bits, and even then it's not at length. Malleus also refers to the reader as "beauty," but masculine people can be beautiful too so idk but here's a warning anyways.

This fic is DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. TW for noncon, fae interaction rules used for said noncon, slight bullying if you squint, one (1) mention of blood (I'm beginning to think I have a problem.) Stay safe while reading. Possible OOC Malleus, I haven't read any of book 7 and if you spoil it I'll block you temporarily.

This is absolutely not your fault, and you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. It’s awful. Crewel was for sure his namesake, because this whole thing was a steaming pile of-

Alright, from the top, just to organize your thoughts: you are the only non-magic student in a school of mages. The teachers are mages. Your best friend/roommate/monster friend is a mage. The plants here can do magic, but you? No. Thanks homeworld. Love the gift of nothing.

Thus, the faculty have seemingly created a game of “how to piss off and challenge the magicless student,” in which they give you various tasks to just make you lose sleep. Vargas had you running laps until your legs felt like jelly, doing pushups until your shoulders started sounding like glowsticks. Trein had you learning completely off the wall trivia, such as what type of fabric the Queen of Heart’s favorite bathrobe was made of and why it made her more powerful. That’s nothing, it’s easy because you apparently have so much free time in their eyes. But Crewel? Fuck that man.

When you got the assignment, it sounded fun and exciting. He gave you seeds for a fast-growing rose thing. Honestly you weren’t paying attention to the name of it, but you retained what you needed to know. The plant only grew in moonlight, so you needed to cover it before you went inside at night. It needed a minimum of two hours of moonlight to grow per night. If the basket was overturned and it was exposed to the sun, then the plants would die. Moderate watering, no fertilizer, the usual.

Once the plants bloomed, you were supposed to take the flowers and make some kind of glamour potion, so here you are, failing at doing so. You only had four flowers, and you’re down to the last one. You wasted three tries and you still have no idea what the hell you’re doing wrong and it’s due next alchemy class and you’re breaking curfew on top of all of it. You glare into your cauldron with your latest failed attempt and hunker down to shoulder against the side so you can dump it out and try again.

“Oh, it’s you.”

The voice makes you jump out of your skin. You turn around and you almost want to cry tears of joy, because if anyone can help you, it’s him.

“When I saw a little head duck down, I thought that something strange was happening. A crime, perhaps.” Malleus smiles, and it’s not a kind smile, but you’ll take anything remotely positive at this point, “What are you doing on the floor, child of man?”

“Oh, I have to empty the cauldron.” You puff out, still trying to throw your weight to push the cauldron. You did it twice earlier, so this must be the effects of mental and physical fatigue.

“Oh, that’s right. Allow me.” Rather than waving a hand or anything, Malleus strolls on over and uncrosses his arms, taking one hand and pressing his fingertips against the lip of the cauldron. The whole damn thing tips, the failed mixture pouring out into the nearby drain. With the same ease, he tilts it back and turns to you.

When he looks at you, it’s… weird. You know he’s lizard-like, as dragons evidently are, but even Sebek’s eyes aren’t this jarring. They aren’t soulless or cold or unfeeling, but it feels like he is looking through you. His emotions don’t reflect in his eyes properly. That’s what it feels like. They reflect, but it’s wrong. Fractured. His lips quirk into a smile and you blink.

“Uh… wait, what are you doing out here, Tsunotaro?” You ask, turning to gather more materials, following the transcript of your recording from class.

His smile grows, “Just on a walk. Will you tell me what you’re trying to make?”

“Uh, yeah. This glamour potion? I don’t know. Remember how I was growing those flowers?”

“Of course. And what happened to the rest?”

“I… uh… I messed up the other potions. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong here.”

“No?”

“No. Do… do you think you could maybe… help me?”

“Of course.” Malleus plucks the flower up, twirling it thoughtfully, “Why don’t you gather the other ingredients?”

That was simple enough. Petals from your tediously grown blooms, some kind of floral oil with tiny white flowers inked on the label, a ball of clay no bigger than a pea, something that really resembled a severed finger, something that was hopefully just someone’s baby tooth, a handful of crystals in a rainbow of colors, and water. Lots of water. Malleus watches as you put all your ingredients on the nearby table and hums thoughtfully before dimming the lights and turning back to you.

“And where did you hear that you needed these things?” He asks. It’s not something that he says with any indication that you’re right or wrong. The tone is bland but the words say enough.

He has essentially told you before that he believes you inept, a babe in the woods when it comes to this sort of thing, but it doesn’t stop you from looking as hurt as you feel, “The headmage visited class and gave me some pointers?”

“You personally or the entire class? I don’t personally recall concocting anything like this when I was in your grade.” He says.

You suppose you’re grateful that he’s so blunt, but his flat tone makes the sting of your failure that much sharper. You thought he’d be nicer, since you two are sort of friends, and Lilia has told you that Malleus is fond of you, but it also makes just as much sense for him to refrain from easing up in his flatness because he supposedly thinks so much of you. He thinks you’re an idiot, but he’s not willing to treat you as such.

“The whole class. And no one else in my grade is doing this.” You mutter, staring at your assortment of items on the table.

He approaches the table and plucks up the beaker of water, twisting it in his hand, “Did you distill this?”

“What?”

“Tap water often has various minerals in it. If you haven’t been using distilled water, you’ve been adding an extra ingredient. Typically, most potions are much more forgiving and you can use tap water with little issue, but this particular potion is known to be disagreeable.” He murmurs, crossing the room with your beaker of water and setting it up to distill with a practiced ease. “That’s why it’s typically saved for fourth year students’ aptitude testing.”

The revelation hit you like a ton of bricks. You’d like to protest but it unfortunately makes sense. Malleus looks over at you, somewhat blandly, then turns around to face you, looking half concerned.

You answer his question before he can ask, “I didn’t… know that. I guess it’s my fault for being from a different world…”

His lips twitch into a smile, and for a moment you can see amusement in his eyes, fractured with the underlying coldness, “Oh, it isn’t. It may be your fault for failing to ask questions, but having someone who is unused to this type of work take on an advanced project is cruel.”

“You think so?” You ask, voice lilting with hope.

“Of course I do. Why you’re expected to make a potion of this caliber is beyond me.” Malleus states blankly.

“Uh, yeah. I- I don’t know either. But thank you for helping me!”

His expression flinches. It lasts for less than a second before it smooths into an odd grin. You’re not quite sure what that means, but you’re too happy to stop and think about it. The water finishes distilling and you carefully begin crafting, using the tips Malleus occasionally mumbles towards you. Don’t put that ingredient in yet, stir clockwise, you need to grind that up with the oil, don’t rush you have time, et cetera, et cetera, and then you have a gorgeous violet mixture, glimmering with a pearlescent golden sheen.

Your jaw drops. Somehow the few ingredients you threw together is enough to fill several bottles. Malleus is making a smug face as you rush to the shelves of empty bottles and choose several fluted bottles, quickly using a ladle to deposit the final, successful potion into the bottles. You’re so giddy with your success that you hardly notice as Malleus walks towards the door and locks it. But only hardly.

“What was that for?” You ask, not actually caring. You’re too happy to be worried.

“Oh, we’ll need privacy.” He responds.

That part confuses you enough into caring. You turn around from where you’ve safely wrapped the bottles and slipped them into your bag and shoot Malleus a frown, “Privacy? For what?”

Malleus doesn’t say anything. He walks over to the table and you feel your body stand up, void of your control, and stagger over to stand in front of him. If you were concerned before, you’re frightened now. Malleus looks down at you with his strange gaze and folds his arms.

“Wh-what’s happening?! Why can’t I move?”

“You really don’t know?” He asks. Something about his tone sounds mocking, but you’re certain he doesn’t mean it to be. It’s his version of sarcasm, he’s spoken to you like this before.

Your body hops up on the table, taking a seat, and Malleus turns to stand before you, looking down at you with a soft smile. You shift your hips- what the fuck is going on- and Malleus very gently hooks his hands in the pants of your dorm uniform.

Your dorm uniform is legit whatever the hell you want it to be, so it would change on the daily. Today it was a pair of jeans and a hooded jacket. He kneels to remove your shoes and stands back up, leaning close as he tilts your chin up. His breath fans over your lips.

“You didn’t tell me that you were so lovely beneath your clothes.” His hand on your chin shifted to your cheek, and his other hand laid flat on the table. “And… your smell is much stronger. Are you aroused?”

“You can’t just ask me that! I don’t know what you did but you’ve got to let me go.”

“I didn’t do anything. This is your doing.” He retorts, pecking your lips very chastely.

“What are you talking about?” When he didn’t respond, instead pressing the tips of his hand that was on the table against your exposed sex, your heart jumps but your body doesn’t move. You can’t, “Don’t do that!”

“Lilia informed me that making someone climax is similar to binding someone to you.” He mumbles, kissing you again as his fingers slowly slip inside. “It makes them fall in love with you. Isn’t that the most binding contract of all?”

You don’t know why he isn’t listening, but even less than that, you don’t know why he thought you could handle two fingers, much larger than your own, penetrating you. You squeal, but your body is incapable of tensing. Malleus pulls back, looking at you in a soft confusion.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“With me? What’s wrong with you? That’s too many- it’s uncomfortable!”

He blinks at you and withdraws a finger, which feels much better. You sigh. If you’re going to be forced to do this, you may as well not get hurt in the process. You close your eyes and Malleus hums.

“Is this better? You’ll have to forgive me. I haven’t had a dalliance with a human before.”

“I- I don’t think I’ll be able to… to forgive you for this.”

“No?” You can hear his smirk and the squelching noise as he pumps his finger gets louder. He slips the second finger in again and the burn isn’t so bad as last time, “Well, maybe you can decide that for certain after the wedding.”

“The wedd-” You have to bite your tongue to keep from moaning. Your body leans back, laying on the table, and your gentle assailant curls his fingers, leaning forward to mouth at your neck, “There’s not gonna be a motherfucking wedding. You’re-”

You can hear his horn scraping against the table, “Hmm. I didn’t think you were so entitled. You’re squeezing around my fingers. Are you close?”

“No!” You’re a liar. A ragged gasp leaves your throat and you feel the drop in the pit of your stomach, the burst of euphoria traveling up your spine as his thumb presses against your clit.

Malleus laughs, then leans up off of you. The sound of clothing hitting the ground is the first and only warning you get, but you can’t move, so it might as well have been silent. You feel something on your stomach, coming up about a half inch below your belly button. It’s… almost cool to the touch. You would think it would be warmer, but it’s not. Your eyes round as you stare at the ceiling, and Malleus’s face leans into view, his eyes boring into yours as though he’s reading your thoughts.

“You’re very warm. I’ve always thought this. You must be boiling inside.”

“I- what?”

He doesn’t respond, leaning back up. You feel the velvety head of his cock press against your entrance and as much as you want to jolt away, you can’t move your body. You can’t even look down to see what he’s doing. Your lashes flutter as the stretch sets in, the pressure worse than his two fingers. It burns, especially along the bottom, where his weight lays heavy thanks to gravity. You’re capable of wincing and letting out a whine, but nothing else.

“H-hey, that- that hurts.” You babble.

“Does it? You are squeezing me like a vice. I’ll stay still for a moment so you can relax some. Let me know when it stops hurting.” It’s very peculiar. Although he speaks with an animated tone, his voice is often detached. You would think he’d have more emotion since he’s inside of you.

You blink rapidly and decide that now is as good a time as any to ask, “What the hell is happening?”

“Must you tease me so?” He responds, his voice tense.

“What? I’m not teasing you. I can’t move!”

“Of course you can’t. You only just bound yourself to my will.”

“I what?” You shout.

“What, did you think I enslaved you? I could have, when we first met. You’re too free, giving people your name, thanking them, taking gifts freely… it drives me mad.” You feel a flash of heat, something warm rolling against your skin, like standing too close to a gas stove, “And now I find that you didn’t even know? I didn’t think you were such a fool.”

“That’s just called being polite!” You protest. “Oh my god-”

“I suppose I can’t blame you, really. Relax, lest I harm you.” He murmurs, rolling his hips further as though he can slide in deeper.

You squeak, “N-no, that’s-”

“Too much, yes. Tell me, in your world, do faefolk exist?”

“I- I mean, if they do, most people don’t believe in them.” The oddity of the situation felt like a blanket. Having a semi-conversation while your friend- not after this- used you as a dick holster. It was almost comforting. “I don’t- I don’t understand.”

His voice was deeper than normal, an underlying rasp to his voice, as though it was coming from somewhere deep in his throat, “I will explain. I’ll tell you anything you’d like to know. But after I explain, I will begin to move.”

“H-hey, no-”

His voice sounded choked, half strangled as he stifled a groan, “I apologize for not being clear earlier. Among the fae, verbal contracts are common and binding. You do not give someone your name. You wonder why I never directly gave you mine? It is a way to bind someone to your will. You do not accept gifts. Invitations are fine, but a gift is a sign that you owe someone something. My help- a boon- is a gift. Typically it is repaid with another kind turn. And, most importantly, you do not thank someone without the sufficient power to break their hold.”

You felt him draw back, that wave of heat rolling over you again, and then he slammed forward. The slick noise and dull smack were muffled by your squeal, his cockhead punching your cervix like it stole from him.

“Foolish little thing. I suppose it makes you cute.” He sneers, and your body sits up, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

The angle makes his motion a bit less painful. He’s no longer bumping against your cervix, thank the Seven, but the stretch remains. Your eyes flinch shut and Malleus tilts your chin up to kiss you again.

“St-stop- stop!” You whimper, “You’re hurting me!”

“If you would relax, beauty, that would not be a problem.” His chuckle is dark, the squelching from your coupling making a wicked duet that makes you feel dizzy, “And you said it to me so easily as well. Thank me again.”

“Wh-” One of his hands slipped under your hips, holding your bottom just under the split in your cheeks, and nipped your neck as a flat thumping echoed from where your bodies met, your legs bouncing with the motion. His member had gone back to bullying your cervix, and you wailed in the hopes that he would stop, “Thank you!”

“Heh… it escapes your lips so freely. Tell me, beauty-” He cut himself off with a grunt, panting against the column of your throat. “Tell me, what is it that you’d like? I would give you the world on a platter, should you want it.”

“I- ow! Y-you’re hurting me!”

There was a possibility that he was getting off on the pain he was causing you, just as much as there was a possibility of him not understanding that he was hurting you. With every motion of his hips against yours, despite the wicked pain, you felt that ever evil tug in your gut, like a stone growing heavier and heavier.

You tried again, because if this had to happen, if you were under his control now, you may as well not get injured. You would not be pissing blood if you could help it, “It’s too deep!”

He listened. It was odd, but he listened, his voice warming as he slid back a bit and continued ramming into you, but no longer beating the hell out of your internal organs.

“I didn’t realize. Is that better?” His voice sounded warmer, echoey against your shoulder. His teeth grazed over your skin again when you didn’t respond. He choked out your name and you sort of came back to yourself.

“U-uh- I guess?”

“Wonderful.” He mumbled, his free hand reaching between your bodies and slicked with your sweat, to tweak your clit.

It should be embarrassing, how quickly you reached your height. Whoever he had been with in the past couldn’t have been so sensitive, since you felt his body jerk against you, an uncontrolled undercurrent to his motions. You let out a quiet, squealing moan and barely even felt the break when Malleus bit you to muffle his own groan. You didn’t feel him climaxing inside of you. You felt the control return to your body and flopped backward onto the table, your hoodie damp with sweat. Malleus took a step back, then carefully redressed you, then himself. You looked up at him and saw nothing but adoration in his eyes, not the fractured appearance of such. It was like he was actually looking at you.

When he spoke to you, leaning forward to cup your cheek, his voice was warm, warmer than ever, “Now, let’s start planning for the wedding, my beauty.”

#twisted wonderland #tw: dark content #disney twst #tw: dark themes #tw: yandere #twst #malleus draconia #yandere malleus draconia x reader #tw noncon #tw bullying #fair folk #tw blood #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #yandere male x reader #cervix bruising #you cannot convince me that getting your cervix penetrated doesn't hurt like hell #Because getting it touched is just about the worst feeling i can think of next to getting stabbed #equal pain my friend

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19burstraat · 4 months

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I love that kaz's revenge kind of... fails. I really love that he doesn't quite get a satisfying revenge on rollins, and I've always thought that was... well, the point. I said more about the specific scene with pekka here but like. it IS a turning point for kaz, it's just not the one he wanted. kaz gets about three narrative warnings/pieces of foreshadowing that it's not going to go how he wants it to go, but he really doesn't heed them until it's too late.

the first is the broken leg from the heist on the bank that helped pekka scam them; while its main narrative purpose is that it's the source of kaz's disability ofc (which feeds into his personal arc and his dynamic with wylan), and it exists outside of the pekka stuff, it arguably has a secondary purpose as the first in a series of 'don't pursue this, it's going to hurt' warnings, which he ignores.

the second warning comes when kaz lets pekka out at hellgate for personal score settling reasons, wastes time and fucks up the plan, and then starts a big domino effect where rollins turns the dregs on him, teams up with van eck, and hires dunyasha to attack inej.

(there are lots of other mini-nods to kaz absolutely refusing to let go of what happened and it informing everything he does; making nina give muzzen fake firepox, the fake pandemic, his interest in fifth harbour being implied to be because that's where he crawled out of the harbour, his dynamics with jesper and wylan, the body boats taking everyone out of the city, etc, but these are the big slip-ups)

the third strike feeds from that; the sweet reef sugar silo job is an almost perfect copy of the second stage of rollins' scam on jordie and kaz; sugar stock prices being driven up due to scarcity. it going so horribly wrong (because pekka anticipated it, of course he did, he made it up) and almost getting inej killed by dunyasha is a final warning to kaz to, effectively, let go or be dragged. if he carries on living in the past like this, he's going to lose his new family, not just his old one.

I think pekka's inability to remember jordie's name was more crushing than kaz admitted to himself, at least on the page; "it was a start" feels almost defeated after all that, and it lacks closure. kaz only gets one more point of view chapter (iirc?) one which feels quite reticent (it's the council of tides one and it's quite short) and he's quite quiet for the rest of the book, at least until the last inej chapter. he gets probably the cruellest wake-up call he could have been given. he doesn't get what he wants, and he'll never get it, because rollins still can't remember jordie's name by the end of the novel. it's time to move on. to his credit, he does it; he does what he always does, which is rise to a challenge. half of kaz's appeal lies in his ability to do that, no matter how hard the task, but it's a hard bandage to rip off.

unfortunately he does not really let go until he's being dragged, when his idea of what his confrontation with pekka should be like, crumbles in the face of pekka just not being able to remember jordie's name, no matter what kaz does. kaz is dragged to the precipice and told, look– here's inej, here's rollins. choose. and that's when he finally has to let go and start doing things for the future and inej, not the past and rollins and jordie. (remember that bit when he's drowning in SOC and he tries to think of revenge, and he can only think of inej instead? he always knew what he was going to pick, really).

he gets rollins out of ketterdam, but it's definitely hollow, in my estimation; the one thing kaz wanted him to remember, and he couldn't, because it wasn't important to him like it was to kaz. there's one final nod to kaz making everything about what happened to him and jordie (sneaking the grisha, colm, and matthias' body out of the city via the bodyboats and 'the bodymen don't bother to rearrange them') but I think inej saying "he doesn't say goodbye. he just lets go" comes at the perfect point; up until then it wasn't true, but now, kaz has finally been forced to (somewhat) let go, having never ever done that before.

but kaz buying inej her ship and a berth at fifth harbour (where he crawled out of the harbour and vowed to start the entire revenge plot) is a nice indication that he is trying to close that part off and move forwards with her, rather than staying in the past. and I really like that it's inej who actually makes the threat against pekka's life, to make sure he stays out of ketterdam; it's hard to know if kaz told her anything that prompted that visit (if he did, I doubt it was much, and I actually suspect he didn't know she'd gone there at all) but no matter what the circumstances, it indicates that he doesn't have to go on alone anymore, and he can finally turn away from that obsession. shared burdens n that. it's not a sad ending, it's honestly a good one for both of them, but it was a pretty rough journey to get there, and he had to fail first.

#he is like a stick of rock or a boiled sweet to me. I gnaw on him until he breaks at a weird angle and stabs me in the roof of the mouth #I do feel really bad for him. like how do you even find a new purpose after all that #and no babes your purpose cannot be 'inej' that's your obsessive tendencies talking. get a hobby #six of crows #kaz brekker #crooked kingdom #soc duology #soc meta #my post #does this make sense idfk. anyway

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