#( you have summoned the judgmental one ) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

warningsine · 4 months ago

Text

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/09/02/world/europe/france-husband-rape-drug-trial-mazan.html

For years, she had been losing hair and weight. She had started forgetting whole days, and sometimes appeared to be in dreamlike trances. Her children and friends worried she had Alzheimer’s.

But in late 2020, after she was summoned to a police station in southern France, she learned a far more shattering story.

Her husband of 50 years, Dominique Pelicot, had been crushing sleeping pills into her food and drink to put her into a deep sleep, the police said, and then raping her. He had ushered dozens of men into her home to film them raping her, too, they said, in abuse that lasted nearly a decade.

Using the man’s photographs, videos and online messages, the police spent the next two years identifying and charging those other suspects.

On Monday, 51 men, including Mr. Pelicot, went on trial in Avignon, in a case that has shocked France and cast a spotlight on the use of drugs to commit sexual abuse and the broader culture in which such crimes could occur.

The accused men represent a kaleidoscope of working-class and middle-class French society: truck drivers, soldiers, carpenters and trade workers, a prison guard, a nurse, an I.T. expert working for a bank, a local journalist. They range in age from 26 to 74. Many have children and are in relationships.

Most are charged with raping the woman once. A handful are accused of returning as many as six times to rape her.

The victim, Gisèle, who has divorced her husband and changed her surname since his arrest, is now in her 70s.

Since his arrest, Mr. Pelicot, 71, has “always declared himself guilty,” said Béatrice Zavarro, his lawyer. “He is not at all contesting his role.”

Other defendants have denied the rape charges, with some arguing that they had the husband’s permission and thought that was sufficient, while others claimed they believed the victim had agreed to be drugged.

When the police showed Gisèle some of the photographs they say her husband had carefully classified and stored, she expressed deep shock. She and her husband had been together since they were 18. She had described him to the police as caring and considerate.

She had no memory of being raped, by him or the other men, only one of whom she recognized, she told the police, as a neighbor in town.

The first time she will consciously witness the rapes, her lawyer Antoine Camus says, will be in the courtroom when the video recordings are played as evidence.

The trial comes at a moment of heightened scrutiny of the handling of sexual crimes in the country. Rape is defined in French law as an “act of sexual penetration” committed “by violence, coercion, threat or surprise.” A number of feminist lawmakers want to amend that wording to say explicitly that sex without consent is rape, that consent can be withdrawn at any time, and that consent cannot exist if sexual assault is committed “by abusing a state impairing the judgment of another.”

“There is a kind of naïveté on the topic of predators in France, a kind of denial,” said Sandrine Josso, a lawmaker who led a parliamentary commission into what is known in France as “chemical submission” — drugging someone with malicious intent. She started the commission after she says she became the victim of a drugging last year. A senator is being investigated on accusations that he slipped Ecstasy into her Champagne.

Ms. Josso hopes that the Avignon trial will draw attention to the use of drugs to prey on women, and also shed light on the wide profile of predators. “They could be your neighbors, without falling into paranoia,” she said.

Mr. Pelicot seemed like a classic man next door. He was a trained electrician, an entrepreneur and an avid cyclist. His middle child and only daughter, Caroline Darian, her pen name, described him as a warm and present father in a book published in 2022 about the case, “And I Stopped Calling You Papa.” She tried to turn her family trauma into action, forming a nonprofit association, “Don’t Put Me to Sleep,” to publicize the dangers of drug-facilitated crimes.

Her father, she wrote, was the one who drove her to school, picked her up late from parties, encouraged her and consoled her. Her mother was the stable breadwinner, working as a manager in a Paris-area company for 20 years.

When Gisèle retired, they moved to a house with a big garden and pool in Mazan, a small town northeast of Avignon. The couple regularly hosted their three children and grandchildren for summer vacations peppered with late dinners on the terrace, where the family debated, held dance competitions and played Trivial Pursuit.

��I think of us as happy,” his daughter wrote. “I thought my parents were.”

None of them harbored any suspicions. Then, in 2020, three women reported Mr. Pelicot to the police for trying to use his camera to film up their skirts in a grocery store, and he was arrested.

The police seized his two cellphones, two cameras and his electronic devices, including his laptop, before releasing him on bail.

On the devices, the police say they found 300 photographs and a video of an unconscious woman being sexually assaulted by many people. They said they also found Skype messages in which the man boasted of drugging his wife and invited men to join him in having sex with her while she was unconscious.

Over the course of their investigation, the police found more than 20,000 videos and photographs, many of them dated and labeled, in an electronic folder titled “abuse.” The timeline they built began in 2011. The list of suspects grew to 83.

Two months after his initial arrest, Mr. Pelicot was arrested again and charged with aggravated rape, drugging and a list of sexual abuse charges. He is also accused of violating the privacy of his wife, daughter and two daughters-in-law on suspicion of illegally recording, and at times distributing, intimate photos of them.

If he is found guilty, he faces up to 20 years in prison.

During interviews with the police, the details of which were included in an overview of the case by the investigative judge, Mr. Pelicot said he began drugging his wife so he could do things to her, and dress her in things, that she normally refused. Then he started inviting others to participate. He said he never asked for or accepted money.

He met most of the men, the investigating judge’s report stated, in a chat room on a notorious, unmoderated French website implicated in more than 23,000 police cases in France alone from 2021 to 2024. It was finally shut down, and its owner arrested, in June after an 18-month investigation stretching across Europe.

The chat room where most of the men met Mr. Pelicot was called “a son insu,” which means “without their knowledge.”

Over the years, Mr. Pelicot told the police, he developed rules for the visitors to ensure that his wife did not wake: no smoking or cologne; undress in the kitchen; warm hands under hot water or on a radiator, so their cold touch would not jolt her. At the end of each night, according to the investigating judge’s report, he cleaned his wife’s body.

Of the 83 suspects, the police identified and charged 50.

Only one of the men is not charged with rape, assault or attempted rape of Mr. Pelicot’s wife. Instead, that man is accused of following the same model, and drugging his own wife to rape her. Mr. Pelicot is also charged with raping the man’s wife while she was drugged.

Five of the men also face charges for possessing child sexual abuse imagery.

Mr. Pelicot is also being investigated in the rape and murder of a 23-year-old woman in 1991 and the attempted rape of a 19-year-old in 1999. He admitted to the attempted rape, according to Florence Rault, the lawyer representing the victims in both cases, but denies any involvement in the 1991 homicide.

The story has prompted some soul-searching among doctors, since Gisèle had visited gynecologists and neurologists over a series of mystifying symptoms, but had received no diagnosis, according to her daughter.

“What I found disturbing for us doctors was that no doctor considered this hypothesis,” said Dr. Ghada Hatem-Gantzer, a well known obstetrician-gynecologist and expert in violence against women. She and a pharmacist, Leila Chaouachi, have now developed training for doctors and nurses on the symptoms that victims of drug-facilitated assault can experience.

Contrary to popular belief, most cases occur at home, not at bars, said Ms. Chaouachi, who runs annual surveys on such offenses in France. Most victims are women, the surveys show, and around half of the victims do not remember the attack, because of blackouts, she said.

In the case going to court in Avignon, some of the accused admitted guilt to the police. According to the investigating judge’s report, many claimed that they were tricked into having sex with a drugged woman — lured by a husband for a three-way encounter and told she was pretending to sleep, because she was shy.

Several said they believed that she had consented to being drugged and raped as part of a sex fantasy. Some said they did not believe it was rape, because her husband was there and they believed he could consent for both of them.

“It sends shivers down the spine regarding the state of affairs in French society,” said Mr. Camus, who is also representing Ms. Darian and many other members of the family. “If that’s the conception of consent in sexual matters in 2024, then we have a lot, a lot, a lot of work to do.”

#Gisele Pelicot #france #rape #news tag

417 notes · View notes

woniedarlin · 8 months ago

Text

Love Beyond The Council: Yang Jungwon

pairing: stuco pres!Jungwon x quiet! reader

synopsis: Jungwon, a dedicated student council president whose attention is inexplicably drawn to you, despite your quiet demeanor. As he navigates the halls of the school, he finds himself captivated by your presence, unable to shake the feeling that there’s something special about you. Will Jungwon summon the courage to break the silence and initiate a conversation, or will his admiration remain unspoken? Follow Jungwon’s journey as he grapples with his feelings.

warnings: kissing, fighting, chaos, Jungwon likes physical affection

note: Hello again 💖 I did this just now at midnight. I suddenly had an urge to write. I'm very sorry if there were errors. Happy reading! 📖

Jungwon, the student council president, stood tall in the school hallways. With his hand inside his pocket, he meticulously looked at each passing student, his gaze unwavering and authoritative. Then, amidst the throng, his attention fixed on you. You are a year younger than him. Though you two weren’t that close, he was aware of you. Despite your quiet demeanor, your respectful nature towards him and your elegance and beauty, they had not gone unnoticed. Many students harbored crushes on you, and Jungwon understood why. They all recognized that you were truly one of a kind.

His stern expression softened ever so slightly. He nodded in acknowledgment, a hint of warmth in his usually stern gaze, recognizing the unique aura you brought to the school. Approaching you with measured steps, Jungwon's composed demeanor belied his inner admiration. As he drew closer, his sharp and focused eyes flickered with a subtle warmth.

"Hey," Jungwon said, his voice smooth and composed. He adjusted his uniform tie slightly, his fingers moving with practiced precision as he continued, maintaining a professional distance.

"Your academic excellence precedes you," he remarked matter-of-factly, a hint of reverence in his tone.

Surprised by his approach and compliment, you responded, “Oh, thank you, Jungwon,” with a soft smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at his unexpected praise.

A small, barely perceptible smile tugged at the corner of Jungwon's lips at your reply. "It's the truth," he responded, his voice carrying a note of conviction. His gaze softened, a rare show of warmth.

"You maintain a balance of both academics and grace. Your dedication is admirable," he continued, his tone measured and respectful. He paused, his gaze meeting yours for a moment, before he spoke again, his voice a bit softer. ‘’You set a good example for your peers. Keep up the great work. It's evident that you're making a positive impact on others," Jungwon finished, his words carrying a weight of sincere appreciation. While he maintained his professional facade and the air of authority expected of him, his genuine praise shone through, a glimpse of his true feelings.

“You can be the next student council president after me. You have the potential,” Jungwon suggested, his tone both encouraging and confident.

Caught off guard by his confidence in you, you lightly shook your head and replied, “I don’t think I fit the standards of a student council president.” Despite your words, there was a hint of doubt in your voice, as if you were questioning your own judgment in the face of his unwavering belief in you.

"Nonsense." Jungwon’s firm but gentle tone was filled with conviction. His eyes locked on yours, leaving no room for doubt. He shook his head slightly, his expression serious yet nurturing.

"You underestimate your own potential. Your qualities as a young woman are beyond admirable. Your humility, intelligence, and grace are just a few of the reasons I believe you could lead this school," he began, his sincerity resounding in every syllable.

“Thank you,” you said, still processing his unexpected confidence in you. Despite your initial doubts, his belief in your potential left you with a lingering warmth and a seed of possibility.

He nodded, his gaze softening as he observed your gracious acceptance of his compliment. "Don't thank me," he said quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of warmth. He adjusted his uniform, his eyes studying yours once more, before he continued. His next words carried a heavier meaning, each one carefully chosen. "Just keep being yourself. That's more than enough."

You didn’t know why, but you suddenly had the confidence in yourself to say something.

“I know we aren’t that close, but I hope we can be,” you said with a smile, fiddling with your hands nervously. Your words hung in the air, filled with hope and the promise of a new connection.

Jungwon's gaze met yours, his eyes softening. A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Distance is nothing more than a matter of time and effort," he noted with a hint of reassurance. "Perhaps we can bridge the gap between us. After all, the student council is open to all students, isn't it?” he added, the corner of his lips curling up into a small, genuine smile.

“Yeah,” you nodded, your smile growing a little wider as you met his gaze. You felt a sense of possibility and anticipation for the friendship that could blossom between you.

A comfortable silence settled between you, a moment of understanding and acceptance. The bustling sounds of the hallway seemed to fade into the background as you both stood there, an unspoken connection forming between you. After a moment, Jungwon spoke again, his voice carrying a mix of warmth and respect. "You're always welcome to attend our student council meetings. I'm sure everyone else would welcome your presence with open arms.”

“Sure. I look forward to attending your meetings,” you added softly, your smile reflecting both gratitude and the budding hope for a closer connection with him.

Another gentle nod from Jungwon, his eyes reflecting his sincerity. He took a deep breath, the sounds of the bustling hallway returning to fill the air. "If that's all, I should continue my inspection," he stated, a hint of warmth still evident in his expression. "There's no shortage of students who need a reminder about school rules," he added with a slight, wry smile, his eyes holding a sparkle of amusement.

You tilt your head slightly, and there is a hint of curiosity in your expression. “Am I in trouble? ”You ask, half-jokingly, though a flicker of uncertainty lingers in your eyes.

A hint of surprise flickered across Jungwon's eyes at your question, his brows furrowing ever so slightly, before a small chuckle escaped his lips. "Of course not," he answered softly, his tone holding a hint of reassurance. He shook his head gently.

"You have nothing to worry about. You've done nothing wrong. And even if you did," he continued, his voice low and sincere, "I assure you, dealing with such matters is a part of my duties. I can let it slide.” He whispered his last sentence and winked at you after.

“Really? ”You inquire, searching his expression for any indication of seriousness behind his words.

Jungwon nodded, his eyes softening at your disbelief. "Truly,” he replied, his voice carrying a note of certainty. “You've consistently adhered to the school's guidelines and shown great respect to your peers. I have no reason to suspect you of misconduct.” His eyes examined your face and continued, “Rest assured, you have nothing to fear or worry about in my eyes.”

"Thank you so much, Jungwon," you say, gratitude evident in your tone as you appreciate Jungwon's unexpected kindness and support.

Jungwon nodded again, a small smile gracing his lips at your gratitude. He took in your expression,

"There's no need to thank me. It's simply my duty." He let out a gentle sigh before continuing, his expression more relaxed than before. "Is there anything else you'd like to discuss or bring to my attention before we part ways?"

"Nope," you smile at him. "I don’t want to disturb you while you are doing your duties." With that, you offer him a respectful nod before stepping back, allowing him to attend to his responsibilities.

Jungwon returned your smile with a gentle look in his expression. "Until we meet again, have a pleasant day." He nodded in farewell, his eyes holding a hint of contentment and satisfaction as he watched you head on your way. As you walked away, you couldn't help but feel a sense of connection and understanding in the short exchange you'd shared with the student council president.

The next day, the hallways buzzed with commotion as two male students clashed in a heated fight, their shouts echoing off the walls. A crowd quickly formed around them, eager to witness the unfolding drama.

You stood at a distance, shock washing over your features as you took in the chaotic scene. Determined to intervene, you began to walk briskly towards the center of the commotion, your concern overriding your initial hesitation. Your steps quickened, driven by the urgent need to restore peace.

As the sound of a commotion filled the hallway, Jungwon's attention instantly snapped towards the source. He saw the gathering crowd and the unfolding fight. Without wasting a second, he began making his way towards the scene, his strides swift and purposeful. His eyes darted around, assessing the situation with a quick glance.

As Jungwon approached, he observed your determined stride, recognizing the concern etched on your face as you attempted to intercede in the escalating conflict. He knew he had to protect you, shielding you from the dangers of the fight unfolding before you.

Feeling Jungwon's firm grip on your waist, you're gently pulled away from the escalating confrontation, his touch both protective and reassuring. As his hand cups your cheek, his touch tender against your skin, you meet his gaze, finding solace in the depths of his eyes.

“I’ll handle it. Don’t worry,” he says softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. In that moment, surrounded by chaos yet enveloped in his protective embrace, you find a sense of safety and trust, knowing that Jungwon will do whatever it takes to keep you out of harm's way.

“But...” you begin, your concern evident in your voice, but Jungwon’s gaze holds yours firmly, his silent plea urging you not to intervene. His head shakes gently, a mix of concern and urgency reflecting in his expression.

“Please, let me handle it. I don’t want to see you get hurt. Stay back,” he implores, his words laced with a soft sigh. “Trust me.”

Swiftly, Jungwon stepped between you and the center of the commotion, creating a barrier between you and the fight. His voice cut through the chaos, authoritatively yet respectfully addressing those involved. "That's enough!" His words carried a tone of firmness and finality, commanding immediate attention. He glanced between the two students, his eyes conveying a stern warning. "Break it up. Now!" He commanded, his voice leaving no room for disobedience.

The students involved paused, their faces showing a mixture of fear and surprise at Jungwon's authoritative tone and presence. The commotion of the fight slowly died down, replaced by a tense silence. As Jungwon stood there, a powerful figure projecting authority and control, both students sheepishly backed off, their eyes lowering in a mix of guilt and sheepishness.

The crowd that had gathered slowly dispersed, their murmurs of excitement giving way to hushed whispers of admiration for the student council president's effective intervention.

“You two, go to detention now,” Jungwon commanded, his tone firm and unwavering as he addressed the brawling students. Turning his attention to the rest of the onlookers, he continued, “As for the others, you all are blocking the hallway. I don’t want to see this ever happen again.”

With the crowd dispersing and the tension diffused, Jungwon took a moment to compose himself, his demeanor shifting from authoritative to attentive. Discreetly, he drew in a deep breath, his shoulders easing as he turned to face you. His eyes, filled with a mixture of concern and relief, searched yours for any signs of distress.

“Are you okay? ”He inquired softly, his voice a gentle reassurance amidst the aftermath of the confrontation. His hand reached out, tenderly holding your waist as he checked for any bruises or injuries, his touch conveying a sense of protectiveness and care.

“Yeah,” your voice carrying a hint of relief as you reassure Jungwon of your well-being.

A relieved sigh escaped Jungwon's lips as he felt your response. He nodded, his expression softening.

"Thank goodness." He continued to gently hold onto your waist, his touch remaining firm but not forceful. His eyes searched your face, assessing if you were truly unhurt by the incident. "Please don't approach fights like that in the future." His voice held a note of concern and protection.

“I was worried,” you admit, your voice softening with vulnerability as you acknowledge the concern that had gripped you during the chaotic situation.

Jungwon nodded, his eyes meeting yours, understanding your concern. ‘’I understand that you were worried about the situation and wanted to help, but I can't allow something to happen to you. My duty is to ensure the safety and well-being of all students. I couldn't bear to see you get hurt."

“Thank you for stopping me,” you express, your gratitude sincere.

A gentle smile tugged at the corners of Jungwon's lips as he heard your gratitude. He nodded slightly, his gaze holding yours for a moment before he spoke. "It was my duty as student council president to restore order and protect the students." He squeezed your waist softly. "But it was also a personal desire to keep you safe.”

“Really? ”You tilt your head slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing your features as you process Jungwon’s actions and his genuine concern for your well-being.

Jungwon nodded again, an earnest expression in his eyes. "Truly,” he assured you. “You may see it as just a part of my job as the student council president, but there's also a personal drive within me to protect someone I care for.” A hint of warmth crept into his voice as he looked at you, his gaze holding a mix of adoration and sincerity. His touch on your waist remained gentle but firm, a silent reassurance and a promise to protect you from harm.

"Please trust in my ability to handle situations like these. Your safety is important to me." He let out a soft sigh, his expression softening ever so slightly. "I hope you can accept my actions as an expression of care and concern, and not just my role as student council president."

“I am,” you confirm with a smile, touched by Jungwon’s care and thoughtfulness.

A small smile of contentment tugged at the corners of Jungwon's lips as he heard your response. He nodded once more, a soft sigh escaping him. The warmth in his eyes reflected his genuine appreciation for your understanding. "Thank you. Thank you for trusting me and understanding my intentions." He gently squeezed your waist once more before reluctantly letting go, though the protective and caring nature remained evident in his gaze. “Well, I should head to detention to give a little talk to those two.”

‘’Alright,” you respond, a sense of calm settling over you.

Jungwon nodded, his gaze flickering over yours one last time before he reluctantly let go of your waist. “Be careful, okay? ”He held your gaze for a moment, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and affection, before turning around to head to the detention room.

As the months passed, Jungwon and you found themselves spending more and more time together after school. You two continued to explore various hangout spots, from intimate cafes to bustling malls and arcades. With each encounter, their bond deepened, the connection growing stronger with each shared laugh, story told, and experience.

Jungwon always made sure to prioritize your safety and care. His protective nature was a constant presence, guiding their interactions like a comforting security blanket. Whether it was holding your hand to guide you through a crowded street or offering a sincere word of encouragement during a tough day,.

As you walked through the school early in the morning, you couldn't help but notice the peaceful atmosphere that filled the hallways. The school felt tranquil, with only a few students present.

Jungwon, as dedicated as ever, was already present at the school. As student council president, he often arrived early to get a head start on his duties. The sound of papers shuffling and the scratching of a pen against paper filled the air as he diligently prepared for the day ahead.

Feeling a sense of contentment, you continued to walk through the empty hallways, your steps echoing softly against the walls. As you passed by a classroom, you noticed the door slightly open. Glancing inside, you saw a glimpse of Jungwon engrossed in his work. He seemed deeply focused on his task, his eyes scanning the sheets of paper in front of him with intense concentration.

He glanced up from his paperwork and noticed your approach. A small, warm smile immediately lit up his face. He set his pen down, giving his full attention to you as you entered. "Good morning, pretty," he greeted, his voice filled with a gentle warmth and contentment. "You're here early."

“I am. I knew you’d be early, and I want to see you as much as possible,” you admit with a shy smile, the sincerity of your words evident in your gaze as you meet his eyes.

A sparkle of both surprise and joy filled Jungwon's eyes at your words. "Is that so?" he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of warmth and contentment. He gestured for you to come closer and sit down next to him. "I'm glad you decided to come earlier. I admit, it means a lot to have your presence, even if it's just to keep me company while I work."

You settled into the seat next to him, a sense of comfort washing over you in his presence. “You seem really busy. I hope I didn’t disturb you,” you remarked, a hint of concern in your voice as you considered the possibility of interrupting his work.

Jungwon smiled softly, his eyes meeting yours. "Not at all, pretty. Your presence is always a pleasant interruption. In fact, I was just about to take a quick break after this." He leaned back in his chair, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit as he relaxed. “So, what brought you here this early? ”

“Like I said, I want to see you as much as possible,” you reaffirm with a soft smile.

Jungwon let out a small chuckle, charmed by your honesty and straightforwardness. "Well, I must say, your straightforwardness is both refreshing and endearing," he replied, a warm smile playing on his lips and his dimples showing. He leaned in slightly, his gaze fixated on you. “It’s nice to know that you enjoy my company so much that you’d sacrifice your sleep just to spend more time with me.”

“Well, you sacrifice yours too, so I must say that it’s admirable. I hope you will get enough rest after,” you said, acknowledging Jungwon’s dedication to his responsibilities while expressing concern for his well-being.

Jungwon nodded, his expression turning a bit more serious. “You’re right. It’s important to prioritize rest too. But sometimes, you have to put in extra effort to achieve something, right? In this case, that 'something’ is finishing these tasks.” Turning his attention back to his paperwork, he began organizing the papers on his desk. “Anyways, I’ll try not to work too hard. Don’t hesitate to let me know if you feel bored, okay? ”

‘’Okay.’’ You nodded reassuringly. Jungwon continued his work, his pen moving swiftly across the paper as he filled out forms and took notes. From time to time, he would glance up from his work, casting a glance your way, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The atmosphere remained comfortable and peaceful, with only the sound of pens on paper and the occasional rustle of papers filling the room.

After what felt like an hour or two, Jungwon finally finished his paperwork. "Phew!" he let out a long, exhausted breath, stretching his arms up and arching his back. The sound of his joints popping echoed softly in the room as he let out a small groan. He glanced over to you and the clock. "It looks like it's nearing the first period already."

“Yeah, well, I should go to my classroom,” you said, acknowledging the passage of time and the need to attend your classes.

A hint of reluctance flickered across Jungwon's features, but he nodded in understanding. "Alright, I understand. You need to get to class. I should probably make some last checks around the school before the first period." He stood up from his chair and offered a warm smile. "I'll see you later. Have a productive day, pretty girl."

"You too," you replied with a soft smile, offering a wave of goodbye as you turned to leave, feeling a sense of gratitude for the brief but meaningful interaction with Jungwon.

Jungwon nodded, his eyes holding a hint of warmth as he watched you leave. As you left the room, he couldn't help but feel a small sense of emptiness, wishing to spend more time with you. However, he pushed aside the feeling, knowing he had his duties as the student council president to attend to.

As you headed to your classroom, the thought of seeing each other again later filled you with a sense of anticipation and contentment.

As classes ended, students began exiting their respective classrooms, the hallway filling with the sound of excited chatter and bustling footsteps. Jungwon, who was still on student council duties, stood near the entrance of the hallway, talking with a few other council members. He glanced up as you exited your class, his eyes lighting up the moment he laid eyes on you.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he excused himself from the conversation and made his way over to you. When he arrived in front of you, he greeted you with a soft yet warm smile. “Hey, how were your classes? ”He asked, his voice holding a note of genuine curiosity. “I hope they weren't too stressful.”

‘’It was alright. It’s manageable. What about you? ”You asked, engaging Jungwon in conversation.

He chuckled softly, with a hint of playfulness in his tone. "Manageable, you say? Well, I'll be honest with you, my workloads can be quite overwhelming, especially during exam periods. Balancing student council duties and classes is no easy feat." He let out a small sigh, his expression turning serious for a moment before brightening again ‘’But you know what they say, no pain, no gain."

“Exactly, but still. I hope you get enough rest,” you said, expressing concern for Jungwon’s well-being as you reached out to gently hold his hand.

He laughed softly, a sense of comradery existing between the two of you. He motioned his head to the hallway. "Now that classes are done, why don't we take a break?’’ He gestured down the hallway. “There's a vending machine not too far from here. How about we get some drinks and chat?”

"Sure. Let’s go?" you asked, ready to accompany Jungwon.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he heard your response, a sense of contentment filling him ‘’Perfect. Let’s go then.” Both individuals’s hands were still held together. He began walking down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps echoing softly against the walls. The chatter of the students around them filled the air, adding a lively atmosphere to the moment. “You know, you have a way of making my day brighter,” he admitted, a hint of sincerity in his smile.

“Really? I don’t do much,” you replied modestly, though a flicker of warmth touched your eyes at his words, grateful for the connection you shared with Jungwon.

Jungwon chuckled softly at your modest reply, a warm glint in his eyes. "Well, you might not think you’re doing much, but your presence alone makes my day all the better. Believe me, just having you here and having these conversations means a lot to me."

With a gentle smile, he gestured towards the vending machine. “So, what drink would you like to get? My treat.”

‘’Orange juice, please, thank you,” you said, your smile polite.

Jungwon nodded in response, a small smile playing on his lips. "Orange juice it is." They approached the vending machine, which was filled with various drink options. Jungwon punched in the code for orange juice, and a moment later, the familiar sound of a bottle clunking against the dispenser could be heard. "There you go, pretty," he said, offering the drink to you. "Your orange juice."

He smiled, watching as you took the drink from him, appreciating the small gesture. He then approached the vending machine himself, punching in the code for bottled water, which was dispensed a moment later. He turned back to you, the bottle in hand. He gestured towards the door that led to the school garden. "Let's head over to the garden. It's a nice place to chat. Plus, it's quieter there." With a smile, he headed towards the door, waiting for you to follow him.

You nodded and followed him. As you stepped through the door leading to the garden, a wave of tranquility washed over you. The scent of blooming flowers and the rustle of leaves filled the air, creating an atmosphere of calmness and serenity.

Jungwon led the way, finding a spot under a tree where they could sit comfortably. He gestured for you to take a seat on the grass beside him. He sat down, leaning back against the tree trunk, the setting sun casting golden hues of light over them.

He popped open the cap of his bottled water and took a sip, the cool liquid refreshing him after a busy day. He turned to look at you, content in his eyes. "I always find solace in this garden. After a long day of classes and council duties, it's nice to take a moment for ourselves. Don't you think?"

‘’It is. The garden is very beautiful. The gardening club did absolutely wonderful,” you agreed, admiring the lush greenery and vibrant blooms that surrounded you.

Jungwon nodded in agreement, a hint of admiration in his eyes as he glanced around the garden. ''They had truly outdone themselves. Seeing all the work they put in to create such a serene atmosphere... I hope they can maintain it for many years to come.” He took another sip of his water, his gaze returning to you. “Ah! I almost forgot.” He reached into his bag and took out a small snack bar. “I had an extra one. Would you like it? ”

‘’Yes, please,” you responded politely, accepting his offer.

Jungwon handed over the snack bar with a small, almost shy smile on his face. "Here you go. Enjoy."

He leaned back against the tree, watching you with contentment. A comfortable silence settled between them, the only sound being the occasional rustle of the leaves and the gentle hum of nature. "I must admit, I’ve enjoyed spending time with you even more than usual. There's something about being here in the garden with you that makes the moment feel... special.”

‘’Every moment with you is special. I cherish every single thing,” you replied sincerely, your heart swelling with affection for Jungwon and the bond you shared. In this tranquil setting, surrounded by the beauty of nature, your connection felt even more profound and meaningful.

Jungwon’s smile grew warmer as he heard your words. A sense of contentment washing over him.

“You're making me blush,” he replied playfully, laughing at your words. "But you know what? I agree. Even the simplest times spent with you feel extraordinary." He reached out, gently taking your hand in his, their fingers intertwining.

He gently caressed your hand with his thumb, a small smile playing on his lips. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of adoration and contentment. “Being here with you, enjoying nature, and simply being ourselves—it's moments like these that I cherish the most. I hope we can create many more unforgettable memories together."

‘’I hope so too,” you replied, your voice soft yet filled with conviction. In that moment, surrounded by the tranquility of the garden and the warmth of Jungwon’s touch, you felt a sense of certainty that the bond between you would only grow stronger with time, creating countless cherished memories along the way.

He smiled, his eyes filled with warmth and contentment. The serenity of the moment, the beauty of the garden, and the presence of you beside him made it all the more special. "You know, every time I spend time with you, I feel blessed. I hope you know how much you mean to me. You make my life happier and more fulfilling." He lifted your hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

‘’I feel the same way. I’m very happy when I’m with you,” you replied softly, your heart swelling with love and gratitude for Jungwon and the happiness he brought into your life.

Jungwon's heart fluttered in his chest as he heard your words. To hear that your feelings mirrored his own brought contentment and joy he couldn’t fully express in words. As the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the garden, he smiled, squeezing your hand gently. "I promise to cherish these moments and to continue finding joy in each other. Life is short, and I want to spend every moment of it by your side."

As you looked at him, your heart warmed with love and gratitude for the man beside you. His words touched you deeply, reaffirming the bond you shared and the commitment you both had to nurturing your relationship.

As Jungwon's eyes sparkled with contentment, he found himself captivated by the radiant beauty of your features, illuminated by the setting sun's last rays. Drawn to you by an irresistible pull, he leaned in slowly, his heart fluttering with anticipation. Closing the distance between you, he pressed his lips against yours in a tender kiss, the world around them seeming to fade away in the embrace of the moment. With each gentle caress of his lips against yours, a surge of warmth and affection enveloped him, his heart overflowing with love for you.

Deepening the kiss, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as if to convey the depth of his feelings through the embrace. His fingers gently tangled in your hair, the touch filled with tenderness and devotion as he savored the precious moment shared between you. In that timeless embrace, surrounded by the beauty of the garden and the warmth of your love, Jungwon knew that he had found his home in your arms.

Jungwon reluctantly pulled back, his breathing slightly uneven as he looked at you with a mixture of contentment and discontentment. He brushed a strand of hair away from your face; his touch was gentle and affectionate. "Being with you... feels so right," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. He gently rested his forehead against yours, letting the moment wash over them.

‘’It really does,” you replied softly, your heart swelling with love and gratitude.

Jungwon smiled, his fingers gently tracing your jaw before cupping your cheek in his palm. He gently closed his eyes, savoring the moment and the feeling of closeness between them. “You truly make me the happiest I’ve ever been. I never want this feeling to end,” he softly whispered, his other hand gently intertwining with yours.

“Be mine, pretty? ”

‘’I already am,’’ you replied without hesitation, your voice filled with love and certainty. In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of the garden and the warmth of Jungwon’s embrace, you knew that your hearts were forever entwined, bound together by an unbreakable bond of love and devotion.

His heart skipped a beat, and a bright, warm smile spread across his face. “Really? You have no idea how happy you’ve made me just by saying that. Knowing that you’re mine... it’s truly a blessing.” He reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “But just between you and me, can I share a secret? ”

‘’Yeah,” you replied, curious to hear what Jungwon had to share with you.

A small blush crept across his cheeks as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I've had a thing for you for a while now. Ever since I first saw you, I just knew that you were someone special. And as I got to know you better, that feeling only grew stronger." His thumb gently brushed over your hand as he continued speaking. “I was worried that you didn’t feel the same way, but now that I know you do, it’s a dream come true.”

‘’Oh? I thought I made myself clear that I like you too,” you replied with a playful smile, teasing him gently. The warmth in your eyes mirrored the affection in your heart as you shared this intimate moment with Jungwon.

Jungwon laughed softly, his eyes shining with a mixture of relief and happiness. “Perhaps I was just too nervous to admit my own feelings. But now, with our feelings out in the open, I feel like I’m on top of the world.” He pulled you closer, gently wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace, their bodies pressed together. “I can't wait to spend more time with you, to create memories, and to grow even closer. ”

He chuckled softly as he examined your face. “I might as well marry you when the time is right to make sure that we’ll have countless memories.”

You blushed slightly at his words, a tint of pink evident on your cheeks. “Stop joking around,” you teased, though a hint of fondness shone in your eyes as you playfully chided him.

He smiled, leaning in to softly kiss your blushing cheek. “Who said I was joking? ”He teased, his tone filled with sincerity. “Why would I joke about something as serious as that? ”He gently took your hand in his, his eyes meeting yours with a look of genuine affection. “When I look at you, I see my future. So why not plan out the best possible future together? ”

You couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement at his words, though a hint of uncertainty lingered in your mind. “Isn’t it too early? ”You questioned softly, your eyes searching for reassurance.

He chuckled softly, his smile warm and genuine. “Of course it's too early. But it's never too early to dream, is it? ’’

He gently took your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles gently. “I know it's not practical, but just the thought of us sharing a future brings me happiness and hope. Even if it is just a dream, it's a beautiful one to have. ”

‘’It is indeed,” you agreed, a smile tugging at your lips as you leaned in to peck his lips tenderly.

He smiled against your lips, the brief contact sending a surge of warmth through him. When he pulled back, his eyes were filled with contentment. "You have no idea how much I love you," he whispered, his voice tinged with a hint of amazement. "Your presence in my life has been nothing short of magical, and I can't imagine spending my days with anyone else. I will always strive to make you happy and to be the best version of myself for you.“

‘’I love you,” you whispered softly, your heart overflowing with love and warmth for Jungwon. In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of the garden and the embrace of his arms, you felt an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment, knowing that you were loved and cherished by the person who meant the world to you.

His heart skipped a beat as he heard those three simple yet powerful words, and he felt a rush of emotion wash over him. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you closer, holding you tightly as if never wanting to let go. “I love you more,” he whispered against your hair, his voice filled with sincerity and affection.

Years later…

It has been years since the confession in the garden, and the two of you are now happily settled into life and still madly in love. Jungwon, the steadfast and dedicated president, and you, the beauty who had captured his heart, had built a life together, filled with joy, love, and countless shared memories. Graduated from high school and then years later from college, now in their mid-twenties, Jungwon and you were still going strong, but now as a married couple. You two had faced countless challenges and obstacles together, supporting and motivating each other through thick and thin.

In the middle of the night, the couple lay together in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, engaged in their late-night conversations. They were nestled closely, finding warmth and comfort in the intimacy of their shared moments.

He was comfortably curled up in your embrace, your head resting on his chest. His fingers gently played with your hair; the repetitive gesture was soothing and relaxing. The room was filled with a warm, tranquil atmosphere, with the only sound being our voices and the soft rustling of the sheets.

“I still can’t believe how lucky I am to have you in my life,” he whispered, his hand gently tracing patterns on your skin.

‘’Me too, bub,” you replied, your own voice soft and affectionate.

He smiled, relishing the warmth and contentment he felt in your arms. His fingers gently brushed over your shoulder, a tender gesture filled with affection. “You know, it’s moments like these that make me realize just how far we’ve come. From the confessions in the garden to this, holding each other and basking in our love. It’s a dream come true.”

“You were so serious about marrying me. Look at us now, years later,” you remarked, a hint of amusement in your voice as you reflected on the journey of your relationship.

He couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your words, bringing his hand up to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face. “You had doubts? ”His voice was lighthearted and teasing. “I was always serious about you. From the moment I laid eyes on you in that hallway, I knew you were the one. But who would’ve thought that our confession would lead to this life? Waking up beside you and falling asleep in each other’s arms. It’s everything I could have wished for and more. “He then placed soft kisses on your jawline and cheek.

‘’I am married to the student council president,” you said, emphasizing the “the” with a playful glint in your eyes.

He chuckled, his breath warm against your skin, as he continued peppering your face with gentle kisses.

“Yes, you are,” he agreed, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You snagged the most handsome, charming, and hardworking student council president in the whole school. And now he's yours forever." He placed a deep kiss on your lips.

“But I was also able to snag the prettiest, most elegant, and most intelligent student in the whole school. Now, she is mine forever.”

‘’Exactly, bub. I am yours forever,” you affirmed, your voice filled with love and devotion as you reaffirmed your commitment to Jungwon.

He smiled at you, gently tugging your body closer to his and wrapping his arms around your waist. He leaned in to press a soft peck on your lips. "Now, why are we still talking so much? Let's enjoy this moment and each other's presence, shall we?" He whispered before pulling you even closer. His hands caressed your back, gently trailing over the curves and contours, while his lips sought out yours once again.

The tender moment between you and Jungwon was interrupted by the sudden cry of a baby from inside the room.

His eyes widened in surprise when he heard the loud cry from the baby; the sound effectively pulled them back to reality. He pulled away from the kiss, his breath slightly ragged and his eyes still filled with affection. "Seems like someone's woken up," he said with a soft chuckle, running a hand through his hair. "I'll go check on him." He reluctantly untangled himself from your embrace and got up out of bed, softly padding over to the crib that held their precious child.

He softly picked up their baby, cradling the small bundle in his arms and gently caressing their backs to comfort them. "Shh, it's okay. Daddy's here," he whispered soothingly. He continued to soothe their child, gently rocking him back and forth while trying to calm him down. "It's alright, I've got you now. You're safe with me."

After a few minutes of tender care and soothing, the cries of the baby gradually subsided, replaced by the gentle sound of peaceful slumber.

After the baby had finally calmed down and fell back to sleep, he placed them back in their crib and let out a deep sigh, a smile tugging at his lips. He quietly made his way back to the bed, climbing in next to you once more. "It's never a dull moment with them, is it?" He whispered with a chuckle, his voice filled with a mix of exhaustion and love.

‘’Never, my love,” you whispered softly.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. He let out a contented sigh, his body relaxing against yours. "But they definitely make life more interesting," he said, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. He gently pressed a kiss on your forehead, his fingers gently combing through your hair. "And I wouldn't want it any other way. As long as I have you and our child, I have everything I need."

‘’Well, it’s 2 in the morning. We have to go to sleep, bub,” you said, gently reminding Jungwon of the late hour. As much as you both enjoyed these late-night moments together, you knew the importance of getting rest, especially with a little one to care for.

He nodded in agreement, his eyelids growing heavy with fatigue. "You're right, my love. We should get some sleep," he whispered, a yawn escaping him as he cuddled you closer.

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep without you in my arms anyway." He smiled softly. He tightened his embrace, holding you close as he finally let his exhaustion take over and drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

As the night embraced them, they sank into a profound slumber, cocooned in each other’s warmth. Continuing their story as lovers and parents..

504 notes · View notes

seraphdreams · 2 years ago

Text

DREAMIN' — underground racing miniseries.

“being a pretty flag girl is more than waving around banners and wearing cute skirts.”

WARNINGS. this series contains an ungodly amount of smut. reader discretion is advised. topics explored are: gangbanging, drugs, gang activities, semi-dark content, weapons, dub/noncon. each fic will be tagged with its own warnings. 18+ only.

NOTE. finally putting out this series that i’ve been thinking about for a while now. i hope you all enjoy it. each fic is inspired by a song so listen to them!

— STARTING LINE UP.

PART I — NO PHOTOS.

SHIBUYA CITY CHAMPION, BAJI KEISUKE GOES HEAD TO HEAD WITH KAZUTORA HANEMIYA.

PART II — BLINDING LIGHTS.

BRAHMAN’S PRINCESS RACES AGAINST BONTEN’S MASTERMIND, MANJIROU SANO.

PART III — P POWER.

DRAKEN V. HANMA SHUJI.

PART IV — TASTE.

IZANA KUROKAWA FLIES ALL THE WAY FROM MANILA TO RACE AGAINST BEST FRIEND, KAKUCHO HITTO!

PART V — TO BE ANNOUNCED.

Bonten had somewhat of a ritual. It wasn’t anything too crazy like pentagrams or summoning the dead relatives of their victims, but something that made them, them. It was the driving force of all their operations, the sole source that kept the organization afloat. When things went awry they knew they could always count on this one thing, something minor yet major.

Money.

Money granted them connections to criminal organizations around the world. Allies established, and enemies gained. The issue here was that Bonten was bored. All the money in the world couldn’t snatch them from their odd day to day realities of being glorified hitmen, they needed excitement. Something new.

“Any ideas?” All 8 of the men sat around the large lacquered oak table with a particular noble at the forefront. He wore a black suit with a white tie that complimented the strands atop his head. His gaze was empty, as if the light had died out ages ago. There’s two standing beside him, one with a blond skunk strip and slick back hair, the other with the same style except it was platinum all around and a short beard adorned the lower half of his face.

If you didn’t know them, you’d steer clear—They looked intimidating, terrifying almost. You knew Bonten too well though; under all that hardened criminalism were just regular salarymen.

You stood next to where Koko sat. A snarky young man with low patience. It’s hard for you to get under his skin like the others do, and though he’d never admit it, he did have a thing for his little assistant. “We already do so much, I doubt taking on other projects would benefit us financially.” Koko retorts to Mikey’s query. His hands are folded under his chin, propping his head up as if he was bored of the conversation that only lasted two minutes so far.

“Look at you only thinkin’ ‘bout a quick buck. Ya never change, do ya?” It was Sanzu who spoke. Eccentric as he is, when Mikey was in the room he was loyal like a dog. He was one of the many variables that contributed to Kokonoi’s premature graying. Never have they ever gotten along.

“It’s not always about profit. We could expand territory and utilize it for something bigger like weapon trade, or women.” The eldest Haitani spoke. You favored something about him, possibly the eyes or his charismatic nature. He was a caring soul as well, he put his brother above his own life whether Rindou liked it or not. “Bouncing off Ran’s idea, what about Okinawa?” Kakucho uttered.

Usually you tuned out business talk, it wasn’t important to your job. All you were paid to do was look pretty and occasionally pass out paperwork, but the topic at hand piqued your interest. Hitto continues, “We own land in Okinawa, we could build another headquarters there, a casino maybe?”

It seemed as though Manjiro finally took his children into consideration, nodding along with the conversation. “A casino is for idiots, let’s do underground racing.” Sanzu adds. There’s silence and judgmental stares before Mikey finally allows himself to speak once more. “I like it.”

“You can’t be serious, Boss?” Takeomi asks from his spot behind. “How can we even—”

It’s Hajime who interjects this time, the wheels seemingly turning in his head. “If we combine both Hitto and his idea, we could host bets and call in racers. I’m thinking motorcycles over cars. We can’t risk importing illegal vehicles overseas.”

That was just it. The very proposal that’ll put words to action. With a seance of agreeances, Mikey turns to Rindou for finalization. “Make it happen, Haitani.” Rin nods before taking a quick glance at you and back to his leader. “A flag girl’ll be nice too, preferably a hot bimbo.”

You were too fixated on checking your fresh manicure to feel the stares of all the men burning into your frame. The clearing of Kakucho’s throat pulls you from your focus and you finally make the realization. “Hm?”

Mikey tunes his attention back to Rindou, the one notorious for his connections with about any and everyone. “Call up your best racers and fly them to Okinawa. Set up a hotel and headquarters while you’re at it. Let’s take a little business trip.”

With the meeting adjourned, the plan sets in motion.

3K notes · View notes

slytherinslut0 · 1 year ago

Text

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Eleven-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation, Sexual Aggression, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Slytherin!Boys, Weaponizing!EnzoBerkshire.

****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

Friday morning arrived, but you found yourself ensnared by an unwelcome visitor: illness. Your usual vibrant energy was replaced by a lethargic heaviness, your throat scratchy, and your head pounding with each heartbeat. Emily's concerned eyes followed your every move at the breakfast table, her worried whispers barely audible above the hum of the Great Hall.

Thursday had been a disaster. Despite the guild meeting's anticipation, you couldn't summon an ounce of excitement. The prospect of seeing Tom, once a source of thrill and exciting opportunities, now felt like a daunting challenge. As you walked past him, you avoided his gaze, keeping your eyes fixed on the floor and not daring to converse with him outside of a few small shared words during the meeting. Ignoring him was a desperate attempt to shield yourself from the whirlwind of conflicting emotions that threatened to consume you.

Every fiber of your being wanted to be excited, but the illness, accompanied by the haunting words from Mattheo, had drained you of joy and left only a hollow emptiness. The guild meeting, once a highlight of your week, felt like a distant obligation. Your world had shifted, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainty and discomfort, the very essence of your existence shaken by the turmoil within.

"Are you okay?" Emily's voice sliced through the quiet, laced with concern. "You look like you're about to faint."

"I'm just not feeling well," you replied, your voice barely audible above the buzz of the Great Hall.

The words that left your lips were somewhat true, but they were a mask over your real problems. A torrent of conflicting emotions churned within you, the chaos of Mattheo's unpredictable behavior warring with the complexities of your situation with Tom. Each thought pulled you in a different direction, leaving you in a state of internal turmoil that threatened to consume you whole. Despite your efforts to hide it, the storm inside your mind was evident in your eyes, a silent plea for understanding that you were desperate to keep hidden.

Emily's concerned expression softened into one of understanding, her eyes reflecting the depth of her friendship with you. She didn't press further, sensing the boundaries you had set. Instead, she offered you a gentle, reassuring smile.

"You've been working so hard," she said, softly. "You should cancel your tutoring tonight. You need a bloody night off--you're working yourself sick."

Internally, your turmoil grew. If only Emily knew the real reason behind your illness, the tangled web of secrets and emotions that threatened to suffocate you. The rule-breaking involvement with Mattheo weighed heavily on your conscience, a constant reminder of the dangerous path you were treading, one that was bound to explode at some point, one that was certain to bring your entire world crashing down with it when it did.

Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to confide in Emily, to burden her with the knowledge of your own reckless choices. The fear of judgment and the complexities of your feelings kept you silent, trapped in a cycle of self-imposed secrecy.

"I appreciate your concern, Emily," you replied, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "I honestly think I might just do that...I'm going to tell him now."

Emily's face fell, her eyes widening with a mix of worry and disbelief. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but the words died on her lips. Before she could voice her concerns or attempt to hold you back, you were already rising from your seat, your determination etched on your face like a battle flag. With every step toward the Slytherin table, your gaze bored into Mattheo's disheveled appearance like a laser, an unspoken challenge burning in your eyes.

Your feet carried you forward with purpose, each step echoing your heartbeat which relentlessly thundered in your ears, drowning out the ambient sounds of the bustling Great Hall. The world around you blurred, the faces of your fellow students becoming mere smudges of colour as you zeroed in on Mattheo. A surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins, urging you forward even as doubt gnawed at the edges of your mind.

As you drew closer, you realized the gravity of your decision, the precariousness of the situation you were about to confront, but in that moment, you knew you were already in too deep, you knew that there was no turning back.

"Riddle."

You uttered, your voice slicing through the air like a dagger. However, it was as if your words were swallowed by an invisible void; no one at the table even remotely acknowledging your presence.

"Riddle."

You repeated, your tone sharper this time. This caught Draco Malfoy's attention, his sharp, silver eyes locking onto yours with predatory amusement. His smirk, a cruel curve etched on his lips, seemed to mock your efforts. You shot him an eye roll, dismissing his silent taunts, but it only fueled his amusement, his head tilting slightly in enjoyment. Frustration simmered beneath your skin, a restless energy seeking an outlet. Exasperation surged through you, a tempest of emotions threatening to burst from within.

"Mattheo!"

You finally exclaimed, the name carrying the weight of your frustration and determination. The word hung in the air like a thunderclap, freezing everyone at the Slytherin table in their tracks. The effect was immediate and profound. It was as if you had tossed a live wire onto the table, sending shockwaves through the once-buzzing atmosphere.

A sudden, eerie silence descended upon the Slytherin table. The lively chatter ceased abruptly, and every single pair of eyes turned toward you with an intensity that bordered on disbelief. Berkshire, Zabini, Nott, Black, Malfoy, and Riddle, as well as a few unfamiliar faces, locked their gazes onto yours, each expression mirroring a different shade of astonishment--ranging in various raised eyebrows to widened, shocked eyes.

Before you had a chance to compose yourself, Berkshire, seated directly in front of you, sported a wide, contemptuous grin, his eyes gleaming with disdain.

"Well, well, look who's decided to grace us with her presence," Enzo sneered, his tone dripping with condescension. "Did you finally tire of your precious textbooks, sweetheart? Or are you just here to make a fool of yourself?"

Mattheo's eyes widened in mild astonishment, his usual mask of indifference momentarily slipping as he watched the scene unfold. His lips twitched, almost forming a smirk, but he remained silent, keenly observing the confrontation.

You straightened your back, your gaze unwavering as you met Enzo's sneer head-on. "I'm not here to entertain you, Enzo," you replied, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "But if you have nothing else to do besides insult people, maybe you should consider finding a hobby that doesn't involve being an insufferable prat."

The table fell into a stunned silence, the previous atmosphere of mockery dissipating like smoke in the wind. Enzo's sneer faltered, his expression contorting into a mixture of surprise and indignation.

Zabini raised an eyebrow in mild amusement. "Looks like this raven has some fuckin' claws...watch out boys..."

Nott stifled a laugh behind his hand, clearly entertained by the unexpected turn of events. Black shot you an approving nod, wordlessly acknowledging your verbal victory, and even Malfoy, though still aloof, seemed intrigued by your bold response.

Mattheo's eyes, however, bore into yours with an unreadable intensity, a hint of something flickering beneath the surface--mixture of surprise, pride, and a touch of something more complicated. Enzo's face flushed with anger, his eyes narrowing into slits as he prepared a retort. However, before he could unleash his reply, Mattheo's voice sliced through the tension like a dagger.

"What do you want, Raven?" His tone was calm, collected, almost entirely unfazed.

Inhaling deeply, you mustered your courage and looked directly into Mattheo's eyes. "I won't be able to make it for potions tonight," you stated firmly, your voice unwavering despite the charged atmosphere. "Feeling a bit under the weather."

Mattheo's lips curled into a subtle smirk, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Under the weather, huh?" he said, his tone laced with feigned concern. "Such a shame. I suppose I'll have to find another way to occupy my evening."

There was a playful challenge in his words, hinting at an unspoken understanding between the two of you. Around the table, the boys exchanged raised eyebrow glances, their expressions laced with sadistic curiosity. Their eyes flicked between you and Mattheo, absorbing the interaction with keen interest, as if trying to unravel the depth of the connection between the two of you. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension, each of them leaning in slightly, eager to catch any nuances in your conversation, their curiosity piqued by the intriguing dynamic at play.

"I suppose you will," you said, your voice laced with venom. "Enjoy your evening, Riddle."

Just as you attempted to leave, a cold, harsh grip closed around your wrist, making you gasp in surprise. Glancing down, you found Berkshire's twisted face leering up at you, a sadistic smirk playing on his lips.

"If you ever need help getting that stick out of your uptight ass, I'd consider lending a hand," his eyes glinted with malicious intent as he taunted, "of course, for the right price...I'm not as generous as Mattheo."

Your eyes narrowed, fury burning in your veins like wildfire. "Mattheo, generous?" you scoffed, disbelief lacing your words. "That's the last word I'd associate him with."

Berkshire's lips twisted into a cruel smile, his eyes glinting with sadistic satisfaction. "Oh, trust me, little bird," he sneered, leaning in closer, "generosity might not be his best feature--but sometimes, when you're dealing with snakes, it's better to know which one bites less."

His grip tightened briefly before he released you, leaving you seething with anger and frustration. Mattheo's jaw clenched visibly, his fingers curling into fists at Berkshire's audacious words. His eyes narrowed, a storm of anger brewing beneath the surface, but he maintained his composure.

"Watch your tongue, Berkshire." With a chilling calmness, he spoke, his voice laced with a warning tone. "And what did I tell you about fucking touching her?"

His words hung heavy in the air, a subtle threat underlying the calm facade. The atmosphere grew tenser, and even Berkshire seemed to falter slightly under the weight of Mattheo's gaze. The unspoken tension between the two boys crackled, leaving an electric charge in the room.

But then, Berkshire's lips curled into a sinister smile, as if he'd just come to some sudden realization, his eyes glinting with malicious amusement.

"My apologies, Riddle," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, glancing around at all of the other boys at the table. "I didn't realize she was off-limits...but, I have to say, it's quite intriguing, isn't it? The way you guard her so fiercely. Makes one wonder just how close you two really are."

Your irritation swelled, the annoyance becoming almost tangible. How had you thought Mattheo's snark was bad? This guy was in an entire fucking league of his own.

"What truly intrigues me is how someone as insufferable as you manages to function on a daily basis," you hissed, each word dripping with venom, spat out through gritted teeth. "I didn't think it was possible to be more arrogant than Mattheo, but I suppose congratulations are in order. At least you win at something, unlike Quiddit-"

Before you could finish your sentence, Berkshire erupted from his seat, his face contorted with rage, poised to confront you, stalling your lungs in your chest. The rest of the boys swiftly intervened, seizing him and forcefully yanking him back down into his seat, averting a potential escalation of yet another confrontation, each of them exchanging uneasy glances.

Mattheo's demeanor was a storm of barely restrained fury, his eyes dark and blazing with intensity. Despite his efforts to remain composed, the anger seeping from him was palpable, casting a shadow over the entire table.

You shot a scathing look at Berkshire, his gaze avoiding yours as he muttered bitter words under his breath, unwilling to engage in anymore direct confrontation.

Despite the tension, your voice dripped with disdain as you whispered, "bloody pathetic."

The words hung in the air, heavy with disgust, lingering like a ghostly mist--and before anyone had a chance to say anything else, you turned on your heel and left the hall. Each step echoed the frustration and anger that churned within you, the atmosphere thick with the lingering tension of the encounter. As you stormed down the corridor, your footsteps reverberating off the stone walls, you couldn't shake off the seething anger that clung to you like a second skin.

The distant echoes of the Great Hall's chaos faded into the background as you retreated into the quiet corridor, seeking solace from the storm you had unleashed. Just as you began to regain a semblance of composure, Mattheo's voice cut through the air like a sharp blade, his frustration palpable in the way he growled your name. You turned to face him, meeting his intense gaze, where anger and concern danced in his eyes like a tempest.

"The hell was that, Raven? What were you fucking thinking?" he demanded, his footsteps closing in with purposeful strides. His voice, though edged with annoyance, held an undercurrent of worry. "Starting a fight with Berkshire in the middle of the Great Hall? Are you trying to draw unnecessary attention to us?"

"You think I fucking started that?" Your eyes flashed with defiance, refusing to back down despite the intensity of Mattheo's gaze.

"I won't stand there and let him disrespect me, Mattheo," you retorted, your voice cutting through the silence with sharp precision. The weight of his annoyance only fueled your determination. "I'm already your doormat, I won't be his too."

There was a challenging edge to your words, a fire that refused to be extinguished, even in the face of Mattheo's frustration. It was a declaration of your unwillingness to be treated as less than you were worth, a resolve that echoed in the defiant set of your shoulders and the unwavering determination in your eyes. Mattheo's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing with a menacing intensity. He closed the distance between you in a few more swift strides, his presence overwhelming.

"You're not my doormat, Raven," he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "But if you keep pushing...if you keep running your mouth like that, you might just find out what it feels like to be truly under someone's heel...I can't keep defending you without drawing suspicion."

"Oh, look at you...big tough guy, huh?" Your defiance blazed in your eyes, undeterred by Mattheo's threats. You stepped forward, kinking your neck back to catch his eyes. "What are you going to do about it, hm? Get out the belt again? We both know I can handle more than that, Riddle..."

"You're playing with fire, princess..." Mattheo warned, his tone dripping with dark amusement as it dropped to a low whisper. "And we both know how that usually ends, don't we?"

His smirk, etched with wicked allure, deepened into a predatory grin. His eyes, like shards of obsidian, glittered with a potent mixture of dominance and danger. Leaning in, he invaded your personal space, his head tilting slightly as his gaze flickered to your lips, an unspoken challenge lingering in the air. Your pulse quickened, each beat echoing the intensity of the moment. Despite the adrenaline surging through your veins, you met his eyes with unwavering courage, a silent declaration that you would not be easily swayed by his aura of power and intrigue.

"Seems like that's all I do these days," you whispered back, allowing your defiance to blow away with the wind as you remembered why you even ventured to his table in the first place. "I can't do this anymore, Mattheo...I can't keep doing this...whatever the fuck this even is in the first place..."

Mattheo's eyes softened, his usual facade cracking for a moment as he reached out, his thumb tracing a gentle line along your jaw.

"Raven," he murmured, his voice filled with a complexity of emotions, "we're in too deep now...you and I both know there's no turning back..."

The dim light of the corridor cast deep shadows across Mattheo's features, highlighting the sharp angles of his face. His eyes, normally ablaze with confidence, were now clouded with uncertainty, a storm of conflicting emotions. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, adding to the enigmatic aura that surrounded him. As he leaned in, the scent of his cologne wrapped around you, intoxicating and alluring.

"No, Mattheo..." you breathed, turning your head to avoid his lips. "You said no strings but there seems to be a lot of fucking strings...it’s all too much…”

Your inner turmoil churned like a tempest within, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions tearing at the very core of your existence. There was an ache nestled deep in your chest, a painful acknowledgment that you were bound to Mattheo in ways that defied logic and reason. The desire for something genuine, something profound and real, clashed violently with the brutal truth that it could never be.

It was a cruel paradox: Mattheo's possessiveness, his insistence on claiming you, even in the shadowy realms of secrecy, left you feeling both wanted and yet painfully isolated. The longing for an authentic connection battled relentlessly with the reality that this clandestine affair could never transform into something meaningful. You found yourself ensnared in a complex web, a moth irresistibly drawn to a flame, unable to resist its allure despite the inevitable burn.

His games and possessive gestures were merely agonizing reminders of the insurmountable boundaries. Yet, the magnetic pull of his presence, the way he ignited a fire within you, kept you entangled in this perilous dance. Your feelings for him were perplexing, a tumultuous mix of intense desire and seething resentment. He made you experience emotions you had never felt before, confusing you with the sheer intensity of your reactions.

You hated him, despised the way he treated you, yet he had an inexplicable power over you, making you feel both alive and trapped simultaneously. The dichotomy between the pleasure he brought and the pain he inflicted left you utterly confounded, adrift in a sea of emotions, desperately searching for an anchor that seemed forever out of reach.

Mattheo's eyes softened even further as he blinked, catching the flicker of turmoil in your gaze. He stepped back, the intensity of the moment breaking as he ran a hand through his tousled hair, a gesture of frustration and resignation.

"You're just not feeling well..." he said, his voice void of emotion, as though your turmoil was inconsequential, as though your current health state somehow made any fucking difference. "Get some rest, Raven. See you Wednesday."

His words hung in the air like a bitter aftertaste, a reminder of the futility of your situation. With a final, detached glance, he turned away and spun down the dimly lit hall, his figure gradually fading into the shadows. The weight of his indifference settled on your shoulders, a heavy burden that mirrored the ache in your heart. As he disappeared from view, you stood there, alone in the corridor, feeling both abandoned and entangled, like a moth caught in a web of its own making.

—————-

Chapter twelve->

869 notes · View notes

yuri-is-online · 8 months ago

Note

Hi hi so can we have an expansion of middle school Floyd completely being his unfiltered self around yuu (maybe even octotrio going like "Oh please don't believe that merculture is like this" because middle school Floyd is embarrassing them in front of their crush) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Hmmm

So Floyd says morays are cowards right, but my experiences with little kids tell me that they don't always have the best sense of self-preservation. I picture little Floyd as one of those kids on crack. He thinks this human is cute! Especially because they don't have the sense to be afraid of him at all and are calling him cute, that's real funny. What if he just takes a big chomp outta ya, will you still think he's cute? As for the embarrassment, well...

Azul

It comes from how blunt little Floyd is.

He's got even less patience for Azul's plans than big Floyd does, and the complete inability to see the value of waiting for the pay off. He's actively getting angry at him and throwing temper tantrums every time Azul tries to smooth things over with Yuu.

"No you can't get the ability to breathe underwater from kissing a mermaid Floyd is making that up. And no not all merfolk are obsessed with legs that's just a him thing-"

"Nah Azul really likes your legs and pretty much everything you do with them!" Little Floyd is loud enough that other people than just you are looking at him in confusion (Azul is convinced it is overwhelming judgment) because he's choking on a mixture of spit and air because how did he pick up on that already?!? Azul thinks he's so subtle when he admires you, he's got to be so you don't think he's weird.

He can't wait for this to be over, he can handle being made fun of by the twins now since they've got a good rapport and he can give as good as he gets but little Floyd is like a sea otter with a clam, he just won't let this go because he thinks octopus courtship is boring and he's not above saying that. Outloud. In front of you.

Jade

It's from how willing he is to throw Jade under the bus.

Floyd knows Jade pretty well, even if it's a younger version of him so he knows just how down bad stupid Jade is within 15 seconds and he is determined to "help."

Said help is mostly just humming a very specific song while swimming around you in circles and doing little tricks to "set the mood." Or asking you what you think about Jade when he thinks he's out of earshot, something he's never once been since little Floyd got summoned.

He thought this would be fun, Floyd is always so delightfully unpredictable and now there's two of him! But instead of bothering Azul he's decided to torture Jade and ruin his carefully cultivated image instead. He sort of gets why Azul was so determined to get rid of all his childhood photos now, you're never going to look at him the same after this.

When his efforts don't work because Jade is too much of a coward little Floyd starts just telling you a bunch of stuff they got up to as kids in an effort to embarras him. It clearly works from how quick Jade is to shove him to the side but you're polite enough to keep the laughter to a minimum. For the most part

Floyd

It comes from how much of a coward he is.

Floyd is waiting for the right time to speak with you, when he's extra sure that you feel the same as he does. When he knows you'll accept everything he wants to give you and more.

But no. Little him has to say everything that comes into his mind. "Are your legs soft? Why are you leaking seawater? Do all humans really only have ten toes and can I count them-"

If you find this funny, I think it might depress him somewhat. He wants you to see all the ways he's smart and not brush him off as an unserious joke. If you think it's cute, well that's a mix of emotions. He doesn't want you to see him as cute now, but it's ok if you find morays cute, and even nicer if you find baby morays cute. That thought alone perks him up.

Until little Floyd starts telling Yuu he thinks they're cute. Then he gets possessive and starts competing with himself like a looser. Probably by picking Yuu up and carrying them away since his legs are longer and he can get away faster.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #I'm writing this on my phone so apologies if there's any typos #I'm thinking about getting soup #or pizza #... probably just gonna have some cereal though

367 notes · View notes

biggestsimp12 · 5 months ago

Text

Mukami brothers x motherly! Reader

{Ugh, I barely see any diabolik lovers fanfics anymore, where has this fandom gone 😭

Anyway, if I can't find any, I'll just write some for (myself) my fellow diabolik lover fans 🫠

(Literally had this in my drafts since Christmas 2023 😀)

Requests are always open!}

--––——

(this takes place after Karlheinz helped the Mukami brothers)

——––--

You occurred to be "trespassing" Karlheinzes property, where the Mukami brother were said to be living. If truth to be told, you didn't step a foot close to his premises, you just happened to be hard by at an unfitting time and place.

As the cool evening breeze caressed your skin, You stood before the vampire king, Karlheinz. He had summoned you there to answer for your transgressions, whatever they might be. His eyes, cold as ice, bore into you very soul as he surveyed you with disdain. According to his words, "you had committed some unforgivable offense against him, and you were about to pay the price."

Karlheinzes words echoed through your ears as he announced his judgment: "As punishment for your actions, I could have killed you where you stand. Instead, I have decided to give you a chance at redemption. I will make you my fourth wife." His voice was cold and harsh, like the wind howling through the mountains.

You cringed at the thought of being his wife, let alone his fourth wife. Before you could even begin to refuse, however, his eyes scanned over you, and something in them changed. "No," he muttered to himself, "you look far too flawed." It was then that he noticed the crease between your brows, the sign of your displeasure.

Instead, he decided, since no one was currently tending to the Mukami brothers, who were still quite young, he would make you their maid. It was a lesser role, but one that would still allow you to live another day instead of being murdered. "You will be the mother to the Mukami brothers," he announced, "until such time as they are capable of taking care of themselves. You're in no position to argue. Any complains and you'll be sucked dry. Did I make myself clear?"

You didn't particularly like the sound of this new arrangement, but you figured it was better than the alternative. So, you nodded numbly and turned to leave. As you walked away from the intimidating figure of Karlheinz, you couldn't help but wonder what sort of life you had just signed up for. Being the mother to four vampire children sounded like a daunting task, to say the least.

---–—

Ruki

He's reluctant at first, only interacting with you if necessary. He has mommy issues so it will take a while until he warms up to you. He's afraid you're going to hurt him and his brother, just like the people at the orphanage did :(

Once he got used to you and started tolerating your existence, he slowly looks up to you.

He likes to help you with house chores and loves when you read books to all of them.

Respects the fact that you treat and love all of them equally, and that you actually intervine in their life like a proper parent should do.

He still respects Karlheinz and wishes do fulfil his plan, despite your disagreement. In his eyes, he's still the one who gave them a second chance at life.

Will not speak to for a couple of days if bring up the scars on his back. He hates them and hates who done it to him. Though despite all this, he secretly enjoys the comfort you give him, despite not admitting it ever.

---——

Kou

---——

Oh boy. He's a cheeky little bastard that's for sure. Like Ruki, he doesn't trust you at all at first. He'll always ask for stuff in return whenever you ask him to do something. That's just the he was taught.

It will be hard to get him out of that mindset. Really now.

When he started to trust you a bit, also started singing for you, just so you reward him with your baked goods.

Of course he gets away with it every time as you are too soft hearted.

You'll encourage him whenever he sings, even suggesting some singing lessons if he wants to.

Maybe you weren't such a boogey person as he first thought you were.

Yuma

---–—

At first, just like Ruki, he's skeptical of you. He doesn't trust you one bit.

It will take a while to gain his trust.

Thinks you're one of those fancy people who didn't care about lesser class people like him.

You gain his respect (and a bit of trust) when you show that's not true at all.

Likes gardening with you and gets very happy when the stuff you guys planted together turn out delicious.

Isn't a very picky eater, unlike Kou

He's pretty chill once he's gotten used to you, but he still doesn't trust you that much sometimes.

Azusa

He's the most clingy out of all of them-

When Karlheinz first introduced you to them, he was the first that came to you, only for him to ask you to cause him pain.

You had to hide the whole cutlery in the kitchen from him as he kept cutting himself.

You always bandaged his wounds and gave them gentle kisses.

Wrong idea. (even though it meant good.)

Now he keeps cutting and bruising himself, just for you to keep giving him attention- (Azusa, no-)

You had to lecture him a lot to tell him that he can just come and ask for affection if he wants it and doesn't have to ask Yuma to cut him with the gardening scissors, (which was another thing you had to hide from him.)

It took a while but you somewhat, somehow, managed to make him stop cutting himself whenever he wanted hugs-

——–-

The end <3

#azusa mukami #ruki mukami #kou mukami #yuma mukami #mukami brothers #diabolik lovers #headcanons #diabolik lovers x reader

251 notes · View notes

syndrossi · 3 months ago

Text

October Trick or Treat #7: Consummation babies

Aka "what if Rhea and Daemon had conceived the twins on their wedding night" aka "Regnal AU."

x~x~x

“I am pregnant.”

His lady wife had announced the news in the very tone she had used earlier in the day when issuing judgment on two squabbling farmers who’d brought a dispute before her, and she was looking at him now as though he were the farmer on the losing end of it.

Daemon could only stare at her. When he had been summoned to her solar by the maester, he had assumed it was for yet another narrow-eyed lecture on his conduct in town, where he had gotten riotously drunk last night in a desperate bid to stave off the boredom of life as the Lady of Runestone’s unwanted husband.

“You are certain?” he asked, recognizing the question as stupid the moment it left his mouth.

“I waited for the quickening,” she said, hand straying toward her stomach before she seemed to realize, pulling it back to rest at her side.

Daemon’s gaze dropped to her midsection, marking what might be a small bump beneath the fabric of a loose dress. They had lain together no more than thrice in their four moons of marriage, one of those their wedding night, and had happily kept to their personal bedchambers since. For her to be so far along already, the babe must have been conceived that very night.

“That is good,” he said stiffly, in part because she seemed to expect the opposite sentiment from him. “You have my congratulations, my lady.”

She did not frown at him for once, though neither did she smile. “Should not half the congratulations be yours?”

Nothing about this marriage is mine. Certainly not his choice. It had been his grandmother’s scheming and his grandfather’s command, carried out over his every protest. His own father had escorted him to the wedding ceremony at Runestone as though he were his aunt Saera being marched to join the Silent Sisters.

And the very moment Runestone had passed to Rhea at her father’s death, not a moon into their marriage, it had been made abundantly clear to him from every quarter that nothing about Runestone was his, either. She was the lady, he was her consort, and he was to entertain himself with mindless pursuits in a castle whose walls felt smaller by the day.

One year, he had told himself. He only had to endure for one year, long enough to put in a showing that his grandfather would accept, and then he would be free to return to King’s Landing, and fly off on Caraxes wherever he liked, and find someone to fuck who didn’t stare at him throughout with frigid disdain. It had been clear to him from the very beginning that he was nothing more than a duty to her, an inconvenience to be suffered.

A duty, as though he were not the son of the Prince of Dragonstone, the next ruler of the Iron Throne. A dragonrider of pure Valyrian descent, the blood of Aegon the Conqueror singing in his veins. Dark Sister moldered in her sheath, hungry for blood and glory, and he—

He had been just another marriage alliance to his grandfather, like Aemma’s mother before her. A political maneuver by House Targaryen to gain a powerful seat in the Vale through his eventual children, as though their house were not capable of seizing whatever they wished by force.

And now I am trapped.

A babe tied him fully to his wife, to this damp, miserable castle, because he could not abandon a child of his blood to suffer the cold and joyless fate he sought to flee.

For once, Daemon was grateful for every lesson of courtly etiquette that had been drilled into him. It allowed him to act on instinct, even as his mind was elsewhere. He gave his wife’s cheek a stilted kiss, murmured the appropriate words, and then begged leave to write to his family with the happy news.

It was Viserys who he addressed it to, fingers pinching the quill hard enough by the end to snap it, sending a spatter of ink from its tip across the parchment. He did not bother rewriting it, steps quick as he brought it to the rookery, to the raven he could have raced on Caraxes with the news if his grandfather’s command would have let him.

And with quicker steps still, he sought Caraxes and what little air he was permitted.

x~x~x

“Did our father send you?” Daemon murmured as he embraced his brother. It would not surprise him; he seemed to know them at least as well as they did themselves.

“He might have suggested it,” Viserys said, pulling back with a grin before moving to greet Rhea with a brotherly kiss to the cheek.

Daemon turned to Aemma, who held his young niece by the hand. Rhaenyra would be nearly three, and she gazed up at him shyly.

“Your company is most welcome,” Daemon said to his cousin as he kissed her cheek. “As is your experience in these matters.”

There was a teasing glint in her eyes as Aemma smiled at him. “And I am sure you will heed all offered advice, as always.”

Daemon rolled his eyes at her in response, then crouched down. “Are you excited for a baby cousin, Rhaenyra?”

“Maybe,” his niece said, which about summed up his own feelings on the matter.

He picked her up then and sprang to his feet, tossing her up—to an audible wince from Aemma—and catching her. His niece giggled with delight as she settled in his arm, where she spotted Dark Sister and turned her attention to the sword.

Daemon transferred her to his other side, well away from the hilt. “Let us not alarm your mother any further.”

“I shall believe it when I see it,” Aemma told him, standing on tiptoes to kiss his cheek in turn and steal her daughter back.

In truth, he was relieved at their presence, after six moons being surrounded by only Royce retainers and stern Valemen. It was no small distance from Runestone to King’s Landing, either—a week at least by ship, though at least the waters were calm in summer. It was but a two-day ride on dragonback, but Viserys had shown no interest in claiming a new mount since Balerion’s death by old age, which baffled Daemon to no end.

I shall have to take him up on Caraxes while he is here, so that he can be reminded of the thrill of dragonriding. There was a particular stretch of mountain he enjoyed flying over, near the Royce summer manse, that still had snow flecking the tops of the peaks, even this deep into summer.

Aemma greeted his wife warmly, and Daemon recalled that they had known one another as girls. His cousin had tried to reassure him before his departure for Runestone that Rhea Royce was a spirited, adventurous woman. Daemon had seen very little evidence of either, though he supposed a pregnancy was a fair enough reason to avoid adventure.

“You must take poor Fallow out hawking in my stead,” Rhea was saying to Aemma. “I was too sick the first few weeks, and too large now.”

She had grown considerably over the past two moons, and Rhaenyra stretched her arms upward to place them on his wife’s swollen belly. “It moved!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, the babe is quite active,” Rhea agreed, leaning to kiss Rhaenyra on the crown of her head, then straightening slowly, a hand to her back.

Daemon cleared his throat. “Shall we move to the solar?”

“An excellent idea,” Aemma said, her smile at him warm with approval. She took Rhea’s elbow and they started for the holdfast, with Rhaenyra grabbing for his wife’s other hand.

Viserys remained at the rear of the procession with Daemon. “What do you think?” his brother asked. “A son or a daughter?”

His voice was light-hearted, but Daemon could hear the strain beneath it. His brother’s quest for a son had been fruitless thus far, with Aemma suffering two miscarriages prior to Rhaenyra’s birth and two since. Their grandfather had sternly reminded Daemon of his own duty, and that misfortune could befall the king’s heir at any time, as their uncle’s death had painfully demonstrated. Their father was a second son, and now in line for the throne. If Viserys were to struggle to provide the realm with a son, and their own father refused to remarry, then it fell upon Daemon to produce the necessary spares.

Daemon’s gaze went to Rhaenyra’s small form at Rhea’s side, hand swinging as she walked with her, hair long and pale. He imagined a child of his own holding her hand, but the details shifted constantly. Long hair, then short. Light, then dark.

“I do not know,” he said.

“Rhaenyra will love any daughter of yours like a sister,” Viserys said confidently. “And if you should have a boy, then we may have a match in the future.”

Daemon grimaced. He had not even begun to think so far ahead as matches. The one consolation was that their grandfather would surely no longer be around to wrest the decision from him. Their father would not force an unhappy pairing, though he could not imagine his children and his brother’s not growing close.

“How long do you intend to stay?” Daemon asked.

“So eager to be rid of my company?” his brother teased. But then his voice grew serious. “For as long as you like. I am sorry that I could not attend the wedding.”

“Do not be. It was a grim affair.”

And Aemma had been recovering from her last miscarriage.

His brother slung an arm around his shoulder. “You do not seem quite as miserable as I feared from your letter. Are you warming to the thought of fatherhood?”

Daemon bit back a grimace, recalling the letter he had sent. The news had unbalanced him at the time, and he had poured far more into it than he had intended. If Viserys had shared his words with their father, it was no small wonder that he had urged Viserys to visit. He had likely sounded on the verge of fleeing in the night.

“Perhaps.”

He and Rhea had gone from wholly avoiding one another’s company to taking suppers together now in her solar. They had been stilted affairs at first, and he had felt like someone playing a part in a mummer’s show. The first conversations that had not been pure torture had pertained to preparations for the babe. Ensuring the nursery was ready, beginning the search for an experienced wetnurse. Daemon had taken one look at the rickety cradle that had last been used by Rhea’s younger half-sister, Elys, and demanded a new one, which she had deferred to him.

The duties had begun piling on after that. He had resented them initially, viewing them as more bars being added to the cage, or even demeaning—he, a prince of the realm and a dragonrider, seeing to tasks ordinarily left to a lord’s wife. Rather than filling his nights with revelry, however, he had found himself thinking beyond the present. Would his child be allowed an egg in the cradle? When would it be safe to make the journey on dragonback to King’s Landing to present their babe to king and court?

His saddle was already modified to seat two, but he would need something of his own to hold the babe secure. He’d spent more time speaking with the craftsmen of Runestone in the past moon than he had in the air on Caraxes. It was tradition for House Royce to present newborns with a bronze medallion etched with runes to protect them from illness and injury, and it had fallen to him to arrange that as well.

His wife’s castle was laden with history and tradition for her house, and he had none on hand for his own, so he had chanced a trip to Dragonstone, poring over the volumes there for any ancient customs that had fallen out of practice in his own family, finding one at last wherein damaged and shed dragon scales from the mounts of the infant’s parents were carved up and set into a bowl of silver or gold.

Caraxes had been willing enough to make a few donations to the intrigued smith who had forged the Royce medallion, and the end result reminded Daemon almost of a mosaic, with darker and lighter patches of red arranged in a pattern not unlike flame within the gold.

The smiths of Runestone, he was forced to admit, were quite skilled.

“Come,” Daemon said, suddenly eager to show it to his brother. “I have something for you to see.”

x~x~x

“It is too early,” Daemon repeated, mouth dry with fear as he stared at the door, listening to the moans of pain from within.

His father’s hand came down on his shoulder, pulling Daemon into his side. “It is not too early. Not every babe is willing to wait nine full moons in the womb, and it surprises me not at all that one of yours wishes to scream fury at the world sooner than late.”

Daemon leaned his head into his father’s shoulder, grateful that he had come nearly a full moon before the babe was due. Every nightmare scenario played in his mind, presented to him earlier by the maester. A dreaded breech birth. An ill-placed umbilical cord strangling his child. Unexpected trauma to mother or babe, killing one or both.

Rhea’s labor had started the better part of a day ago, and he had been in and out of the room as the maester allowed. His wife was a strong woman, he knew, loath to show weakness even among those she trusted, but she had long since stopped trying to mask her pain.

“It is taking too long,” Daemon said, his worry a wild thing, whipping from one fear to another.

“Shall we go back in?” his father asked.

He had been banished from her sight last time, but she barely seemed to notice their re-entry now. Since Daemon had been chided by the maester for hovering, he settled on the couch by the window, his father sitting beside him.

There were cloths upon cloths stained pink and red, buckets of water, implements he did not recognize. Daemon was grateful that the view was mostly shielded by the maester and his attendants, even as he agonized over their decision to have the birth here, rather than at the Red Keep, with the realm’s best maesters at their disposal.

He clutched the bronze medallion in his hand, thumb running over its runes. Rhea had insisted that he hold onto it, that it was for the babe and not her, but she and the babe were yet one and the same, and if it could afford either of them some protection—

Rhea cried out again, this one nearly a battle shout in volume, and the strain in it gave way at the end to something like relief. A second cry came, this one high in pitch, and Daemon stood up so fast he nearly collapsed, only his father’s steadying arm keeping him upright.

Past the maester, he glimpsed a pink, wriggling shape being handed to one of the maester’s assistants. There seemed to be no alarm as they worked on the babe, but he was waved back when he tried to approach.

“Not yet, my prince,” the maester said. “There is another.”

Another. Daemon stood a moment, uncomprehending of his words at first. Then— “Twins?”

“Yes, my prince.”

As Rhea panted, a sheen of sweat on her face, the first babe was cleaned, cord tied and then cut. Daemon was permitted to approach then, as the screaming babe was handed to her.

“A son, my lady, my prince. Small, but healthy.”

Daemon’s heart fluttered as he gazed upon the child in Rhea’s arms. He had a crown of dark hair, clearly taking after his mother, though with his eyes squeezed shut as he howled his fury, it was impossible to catch a glimpse of their color.

A son. A shout caught in his lungs, and he choked it back, because the birth was not yet over, but for now, his wife was alert if tired, coaxing their son to her breast. The wailing stopped once his mouth found the nipple, and Rhea’s head eased back into the pillow, eyes closing in obvious fatigue.

Daemon dared reach for her hand, and her eyelids fluttered open, gaze landing on him. She did not pull her hand back, and he squeezed lightly. They held one another’s stare for a time, then glanced as one at their son. Their firstborn.

The minutes slipped by, long enough for Daemon to wonder if something was wrong with the second babe, but Rhea tensed then, her grip tightening around his hand. Their son was taken from her breast and given to his father to hold as labor resumed.

The second birth was mercifully quick, the pain either lessened or dulled by all that had come before it. In less than half an hour, another small head emerged, then took to wailing, and Daemon felt himself relax at last at the sound.

The babe was cleaned, cord cut, and the second proclamation made. “Another healthy son, my lady.”

His firstborn was relinquished to him by his father, who had been gently rocking him on the couch, and Daemon in turn gave him to Rhea, who kissed his head, eyes bright with tears, and returned him to her breast. She reached eagerly for their second son, whose head was topped with tufts of pale silver, and he quickly latched onto her other breast.

Dark and light. The contrast as he looked between them felt right somehow. Two sons. I have two sons.

His firstborn, who had already suckled for nearly half an hour, pulled back, face scrunching up as though contemplating another wail, only for it to become a yawn. At Rhea’s nod, Daemon took him in his arms, staring into his face, taking in his impossibly delicate features. His hand wrapped around Daemon’s pinky finger, and he could see tiny fingernails.

His son was staring up at him, his eyes a purple-hued grey, everything about him perfect. His frown, his nose, his dark eyelashes—

Another yawn broke his son’s steady contemplation, and Daemon yawned with him. His father murmured congratulations to them, praising Rhea’s fortitude as Daemon probably would have thought to do if he weren’t so exhausted. He couldn’t imagine having been the one actually giving birth.

Their younger son had finished his own first feeding just in time for the afterbirth. While Rhea was cleaned and the bed linens changed, Daemon cradled him in his other arm, as perfect in every way as his twin. His son’s sleepy eyes blinked at Daemon, a pale lilac that took his breath away when he saw it.

“Aemon,” his father whispered beside him, voice cracking midway through.

They need names. But that was a battle for tomorrow, when they had all slept at last. His son’s face scrunched up as he continued to stare at Daemon, a whimper that became a howling wail that woke his brother, who immediately began fussing.

“Here,” his father said, taking his younger son from him. He rocked him gently, murmuring soothingly at him, and the babe calmed, gazing up at him in a fierce study that was just like Aemon’s. His father smiled at the babe with a joy Daemon he had not seen in years and kissed his tiny cheek.

Rhea eased back onto the now-clean linens of her bed, and Daemon carried their eldest over to her, placing him in her arms. “They are perfect,” he said, because it was truth. The sweat had been wiped from her face, though her hair was still damp. She looked pale and exhausted, but her smile as she gazed at their son was unexpectedly radiant. Daemon took her free hand, squeezing it once more. “I am glad you are well.”

She gave an answering squeeze, understanding his meaning, then gazed about the room. “Where is our other son?”

Daemon glanced behind at his father, whose back was to them as he faced the window, which he was holding their youngest near to catch the last rays of sun.

“We may have to ensure my father doesn’t steal him back to King’s Landing.”

x~x~x

“If he is to inherit Runestone, he should have a Vale name,” Rhea said stubbornly.

It was an old argument, but this time Daemon had his father, heir to the Iron Throne, present to influence the matter, though he was distracted with both babes currently, a small bundle in each arm.

Their size still kept Daemon awake at night, and he had found himself sleeping in the nursery for the past three, soothed by the sounds of them stirring in their cradle—which was large enough to hold them both for now. Still, the maester checked them every day, and assured him that they were in as fine health as could be hoped for such tiny babes.

“He is my father’s eldest grandson,” Daemon countered. “And he is a prince of House Targaryen. Should anything happen to my brother, he could very well be king himself someday! He cannot be named Rodrik or Hubert.”

Rhea glared at him. “Or Jon—”

“Jon!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms up. “You cannot be in earnest.”

“We have two sons. It would be a sign of unity between House Targaryen and the Vale to name one each in the fashion of both their houses.”

Daemon managed to hold back his instinctive sneer at the suggestion, contenting himself with a frown instead. It was already settled that their younger son would be Aemon. It was a fitting tribute to his uncle, and his father would not hear otherwise. Thus Rhea was scheming to get her way with their eldest’s name instead, using that as leverage.

“Perhaps we should seek the king’s opinion on the matter,” Daemon said. “I am sure he will have one.”

Let his grandfather’s overbearing nature be of some benefit for once. Judging by the endless stream of ravens into the rookery today, they could very well hear from him today. With four days passed since the birth, the responses from his family in King’s Landing would just be arriving.

The king’s would be effusive in its praise, he knew, with a tone of unbearable self-satisfaction at such an outcome less than a year after the wedding.

“You could let the babe decide,” his father said, earning Daemon’s glare. Whose side are you on, Father?

“Baelon and Aemon,” Daemon said, irritated that his father refused to take either the compliment or the bait. “They are twins. That is a bond they will have their whole lives. What better bond to honor than yours and Uncle Aemon’s?”

“I recall Viserys saying you favored Aegon.”

He had, but that had been when Daemon had been expecting a single son or daughter. A grand name, to herald a grand legacy. But two sons who had shared the womb, who already seemed upset to be parted for too long—

There was only one bond like it that Daemon had known.

His father glanced down at Jon, who had woken from a nap to peer at him. “What are your thoughts, little dragon? Do you favor Aegon?” His dark-haired son frowned, almost as though in response. “No? And what of Rodrik?” A whimper this time. “Hubert” was met with a screaming rage that Daemon had to take him in arm to calm, pleased at his son’s good taste, until “Jon” received an alert blink and an excited flailing of limbs.

“Baelon,” Daemon suggested quickly to take advantage of his son’s good mood. The suggestion was not received as poorly as the others, at least.

“That settles it, does it not?” Rhea said.

“It does not,” Daemon said through clenched teeth. Jon. The most plain of names imaginable. He could not believe that his father was willing to play along with this charade. “Let us ask Aemon his thoughts, if we are to be listening to infants.”

Aemon fussed at being taken from his father’s arms, and when his light purple eyes focused upon Daemon’s face, he fussed all the louder. “You were happy enough to be sung to last night,” Daemon reminded him, humming the tune of the lullaby until his son’s upset softened to light worry instead. “Is your brother a Jon?” He paused to give him a moment to respond, but his son continued to stare at him, as though awaiting something. “Or is he a Baelon?”

His son cooed softly, causing Daemon to turn to his wife in triumph.

“He is asking for his grandsire,” she said, her gaze withering.

#resonant trick or treat #resonant trick or treat fills #resonant 'verse regnal au

132 notes · View notes

floofyroro · 3 months ago

Text

On the Matter of Touch

Pairing: Tech/f!Reader

Words: 897 (ficlet)

Tags/warnings: fluff, pining idiots whose feelings are finally reaching a turning point, curly-haired!Tech, tension, this moment is definitely building up to something else...

Summary: Tech surprises you one morning with uncombed hair. You can't help yourself.

A/N: Another ficlet from my notes app. Maybe 'Ficlet Friday' will start becoming a thing. I'll write part two if there's enough interest. You can read my other ficlet here.

You hear Tech enter the cockpit before you see him, his gait a familiar rhythm to your ears.

It’s second nature to swivel your chair around to greet him, a smile already curling at the corners of your mouth, but then you're met with a visual that gives you pause.

Tech's hair is... slightly askew.

As he draws nearer, you detect loose, wispy spirals sticking up around the band of his goggles. He seems unperturbed, the rest of his appearance neat and orderly as usual. It’s… unlike him, to say the least, and your fingers twitch in your lap as he settles into the piloting seat next to you.

“You had a question about the databoard?”

He begins his routine survey of the the center console, beginning with the navigation computer, his fingers tapping on the screen to view the remaining distance between now and the next mission destination. He pauses when the fuel gauge shifts onto the screen, no doubt taking in the current state of the Marauder’s oil and fuel levels.

It takes more self-control than you realize to gaze back at his face, his stare currently focused on surveying the control console glowing in front of him.

Do you tell him?

Maybe he’s experimenting, trying out a new style. But that seems outlandish, considering he doesn’t seem to put much stock into personal style in general. He’s more pragmatic about his appearance. As purposeful as he is, a large part of you thinks that this has to be a mistake.

Tech says your name, his tone mingled with confusion.

Kriff.

You were staring.

He’s frowning at you, his eyes doing a clean sweep of your features as you try to summon an explanation of sorts.

You display your mastery of eloquence when you gesture ambiguously towards him.

“Uh.. your hair looks… different.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks when he falters, his brows furrowing for a moment before he sweeps a hand over his head.

“Ah,” he says, and you swear you see a tinge of red across his cheekbones, “another consequence of sleeping in late.”

He makes an effort to smooth it down, but you spy a stray curl that’s adamant on falling across the top of his forehead. He continues to miss it and you eye the strand, feeling called to assist him, as if it’s beckoning you to run your hand through it.

“Tech,” you say.

He looks up with a hum. Through his goggles, you spy a curious set of brown eyes and something else inscrutable in his gaze. It’s enough to spur you forward, bringing a hand up before you register the action and you attempt to brush the curl back with his other locks.

You’ve noticed that he's usually routine with his trimming habits, but the last few missions have been consequent, failing to provide much free-time within the last two months.

And to your secret delight, you find that you like this specific trait about him.

It's adorable, you think.

The curl fails to stay in place despite your efforts but then against your better judgment, you continue to caress Tech's hair, enjoying the thick texture contrasting against the softness of the pads of your fingers.

He surprises you then by sighing, the sound almost inaudible as he leans into your touch.

For a moment, you forget to breathe, too busy relishing in the way he closes his eyes, his expression softening. It isn’t lost on you how intimate this gesture is, and you wonder what’s going on in that head of his; how does he interpret this, the way you’re combing him with your fingers? Is he... as nervous as you are in this very moment?

Content, even?

It’s silent, save for the lull of hyperspace in the background and the occasional mechanical whirr from the control console. You’re certain he can see the redness blooming across your cheeks, but perhaps the dim lighting and the cast of hyperspace is masking your expression.

A wave of sheepishness overtakes you and so you lean back into the co-pilot chair, bringing your hand to your chest, cradling it close.

When his eyes flutter open, he looks down as if to consider something before pinning his stare back to you.

An intensity settles in that gaze.

You worry that you've upset him.

A rock sits at the pit of your stomach as you wait for him to scold you, or even reprimand you for the obtrusion into his personal space.

Instead, his tongue darts across his lips, wetting them before he asks, “Was that pleasant for you?”

"...pleasant?" you echo, uncertainty creeping into your voice. It's suddenly harder to think straight, your pulse quickening and thundering, which provokes a flush to spread across your chest. Words evade you as you try to conjure an answer for him.

He tilts his head down once, his eyes never leaving your's.

You could make up an excuse and say you don’t know what came over you. That it was merely an intrusive thought, but…

He’s far too astute for that. You've never been good at lying anyway.

Maybe it’s time to come clean.

Your fingers clench against the fabric of your trousers.

“It was,” you say. You try to swallow, your mouth dry and your tongue sticking when you force out the next question.

“Is that… fine?”

Masterlist

#hehe #should i keep going?#tech x reader #tbb tech/reader #tech/reader #tbb tech x reader #tech x you #the bad batch #tbb fanfiction #tbb fanfic #star wars #tbb #jillianwrites #tbb tech

140 notes · View notes

bellisima-writes · 2 months ago

Text

Some Rebellious GO Fanfic Recs

Hey there fandom fam,

It’s been an absolute wretched couple of days. I had expected many different outcomes to Tuesday, but the decisiveness with which my country elected a convicted criminal to its highest office left me shocked and numb.

And I know we all don’t come here for politics and real life. We come here to escape. But if you’re like me, and you have this itching need to fight, to organize, to lift up the vulnerable and protect those most at risk, then it’s hard to be here and escape right now.

And that sucks.

But this is and will remain a fanwork blog, and so I offer you some solace - here are some GO fanfics that focus on fighting. On breaking a broken system and protecting humanity, no matter the cost. Because, as much as we love Aziraphale and Crowley, that’s what the original work was about. Love and connection and humanity as an act of rebellion, and we sure do need those themes right now.

So if you’re angry and in the mood for some more plot/action based fics, with a flaming sword and maybe a dash of BAMF Aziraphale, I got you.

I am going to start with my own here, because I've not found one as outrightly rebellious as this yet in my own reading.

The Last Angel by me - (E, 162K) A canon-divergent AU where Crowley and Aziraphale are never assigned to Earth, Hell wins Armageddon and Angels are all but extinct. The story follows Crowley, the Grand Inquisitor of Hell, and Aziraphale, the last Angel alive, as he is captured and brought to Hell to face his execution. But, Hell hath no fury like an Aziraphale scorned...

So, was he really captured, or does Aziraphale have a plan to seek revenge on the beings responsible for destroying everyone he ever knew? And how will the way the Grand Inquisitor makes him feel affect his plans?

Tether by @gingiekittycat - (E, 45K) - a post Season 2 story in which Aziraphale is summoned back to Earth by Crowley for reasons he doesn't understand. This one has all of the sexy goodness you come to expect from a gingikittykat work, with a heartwarming take down of Heaven's Second Coming plans.

What are you doing here by @alphacentaurinebula - (E, 68K) sexy and popular season 3 speculation fic that encompasses both the humor of the source material shockingly well while also providing a rebellious and on brand end to the conflict between Heaven and Hell. Because sides don't matter, working together matters, and this story delivers that theme beautifully.

The Beginning of the End (Again) by @addledmongoose - (M, 79K) a post Season 2 story where Crowley and Aziraphale work to convince Jesus to not go forth with the final judgment. This one stands out for its take on Aziraphale as a guardian angel, fierce, protective, and an ending where he shows his true colors and fights for everything he loves. BAMF Aziraphale in the best way.

Echo by @snae-b - (E, 52K) a story of waking up to find an invisible hand controlling your life, and fighting back to break it and create a new world for everyone.

And a current WIP that's not complete, but the last chapter left me with chills and I am SO excited to see how it will end - And I Did by @di-42 - a Season 3 speculation fic that has Aziraphale as Supreme Archangel in Heaven and Crowley as Grand Duke of Hell. The story is rich and complex, and the cast of characters (both favorites from the show and book as well as new additions) are wonderful. There are two chapters left and I can't wait to see how it all turns out!

Please add on to this list with your own works and favorite rebellious fics!

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #bellisimas fanfic roundup #good omens fanfic recs #rebellious fics #break the wheel

146 notes · View notes

yanderes-galore · 7 months ago

Note

Yandere Itadori who’s been influenced by Sukuna to kidnap the reader please ; maybe reader can summon moth curses 🦋 gn or female is fine with me 💗 please and thank u

Sure! Gonna keep it a general concept idea for this but I hope you like it :)

Yandere! Yuji Itadori/Sukuna Kidnapping Their Obsession

Pairing: Romantic - Sharing

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Delusional behavior, Dark themes, Violence, Guilt, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Forced relationship.

Yuji himself wouldn't kidnap unless influenced in some way.

Be that your safety... or Sukuna's teasing whispers.

Sukuna would influence Yuji to 'take what he wants.'

Due to Yuji being a host, Sukuna can tell what he's feeling.

It irritates Sukuna to no end to feel Yuji so obsessed about you yet not doing anything about it.

All Yuji does is look at you with adoration.

He keeps his crush to himself and just lets it fester.

Sukuna can tell Yuji wants to confess, that he wants you two dating.

Sukuna originally just decides to tease him on it.

He looks like a pathetic lovesick puppy when it comes to you.

Yuji follows you everywhere, never has his eyes off you, and just becomes a mess when speaking to you.

Sukuna originally wants to use his feelings against him.

It would be such a shame if Sukuna came out and tore you to shreds, right?

Sukuna likes to rile him up, laughing when Yuji yells at him to cut it out.

Sukuna's like the manifestation of Yuji's impulsive thoughts.

He's always taunting and telling Yuji what to do around you.

It would be very troublesome for you if Sukuna decided that... well... having a second toy isn't a bad idea.

Which leads into Sukuna encouraging Yuji to act.

He can feel how badly the brat loves you, it's starting to affect Sukuna of all people.

Your technique of Curse Summoning isn't half bad, not that strong but... enough.

Sukuna thinks the brat picked well.

So... why doesn't he do them both a favor and hurry it up?

"Brat, aren't you worried someone will take them for themselves?"

Sukuna essentially tries to goad Yuji into taking the bait.

Isn't he scared of losing you?

Seriously, any of these other Sorcerer brats could claim you before he does.

Yuji would ignore Sukuna for as long as he can.

Yuji is aware of how volatile Sukuna is.

The last thing he wants is him losing control of Sukuna and hurting you.

At the same time, however...

Yuji does worry you'll find someone else.

But... he can make that work, right?

He'll be patient... he'll just wait things out so you won't get hurt.

Let's be honest though... Sukuna will wear down Yuji eventually.

Soon there'd be a lapse in judgment, maybe due to Yuji eating more of Sukuna's fingers.

Taking you could go one of two ways.

Yuji snaps and listens to Sukuna's orders.

Sukuna takes over and takes you for Yuji.

Either method acts the same, although the second one is rather... aggressive.

Yuji would feel guilt eat away at him once he has you in a secluded place.

Sukuna's laughing at him, commenting about how weak you look tied to that chair in such a dark room.

Yuji almost can't believe it.

He... he did this, didn't he?

Yuji wants to blame Sukuna, Sukuna did this.

However, Sukuna tells a different story.

"This is your fault, y'know. You let your emotions cloud your mind too often. You're so easy to exploit."

Yuji can't help but believe him.

Yeah... maybe this was his fault.

Maybe you wouldn't have to go through this... if he had a better grip on Sukuna.

This is his fault....

"Don't look so pathetic... enjoy your prize, will you? Or must I do it for you?"

Yuji feels horrible that he snapped... but...

He can't help but wander closer, ignoring Sukuna's nagging and taunting.

Unconscious you look so... peaceful.

It reminds him that he's always wanted to protect such peace.

He always wants you happy and cared for... he wants to be the source of your comfort.

Yuji doesn't stop himself when he tilts your chin up.

The way your eyes flutter open makes his cheeks feel warm.

He almost forgets what he's done until you panic.

Yuji's snapped out of his delusions for just a moment, backing off when you throw questions at him.

However... your words go through one ear and out the other.

Sukuna finds such a change in the brat hilarious.

He's also pleased since now he has a new toy.

Yuji's too caught up in looking at you to comprehend your words.

Then he notices your tears.

Yuji immediately rushes up to you to wipe your tears away.

He's gentle with his touch, almost like he didn't kidnap you.

You stare at him and he stares back, gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips.

"Yuji, what's going on?" He hears you ask, "Please let me go...!"

Yuji pauses, he really should let you go, huh?

He knows he needs to...

But he can't.

"... It's going to be okay."

Yuji's voice is in a whisper, stroking your cheek as your breathing picks up.

"There's nothing to be scared of... I promise."

His voice is soft, like he isn't the problem.

"Let me go..." You try again, only for Yuji to place a finger to your lips.

"I want to..." Yuji continues in a sweet tone as he looks into your eyes.

"But I don't think I can now."

It's then Yuji kisses your lips, pushing away any second thoughts.

He can hear Sukuna laughing in pleasure and feel you struggling... yet right now, he doesn't care.

Right now... he knows you're finally his....

"You're welcome, brat."

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere yuji #yandere itadori yuji #yandere sukuna #yandere ryomen sukuna

332 notes · View notes

bellarkeselection · 5 months ago

Text

His Compass of Harrenhal - part 3

Part 2 - Part 4

Tag list - @only4thefics @superintenseart @universallyrascaldreamercookie @uniquecroissant @vavafaure1994

It had been a few weeks before we had received the news that Grover Tully had died. Once receiving that letter I hadn’t managed to will myself out of my bed chambers that I shared with Daemon. Having my whole body buried underneath the covers while I just cried in a ball hearing the heavy door creak open and my husband’s voice came out into the room. “Y/n, what are you doing underneath the covers?”

“I’m not feeling well, husband.” I muttered not removing the covers off of my face while I cried. I wasn’t quite sure how much emotion I could show towards him about the passing of my Lord father.

His boots could be heard scuffing across the stone floor till I felt the mattress dip down at his weight while he crawled underneath the covers and wrapped his arms around my shaking form seeing the tears still coming from my eyes. “I don't really know what it's like to lose a parent. But I don't remember as much of my mother as I wish I did.” He gently ran his through my hair letting my tears soak his shirt with tears.

“I'm really glad you’re here. I don't want to be alone right now.” I snuff into the crook or his neck.

He kissed the crown of my head before he heard someone knock on our door. “I'm right here, little fish - Go away. We don't wish to be disturbed!”

“My apologies, my prince. Simon peaked his head inside our chambers altering us. “The Riverlands lords are waiting for you, your grace.”

Daemon and I followed Strong outside seeing all the Riverland lords and young Oscar waiting for us. I fixed my gaze only on my nephew. “Be welcome, my lords...and you have my thanks for answering my summons. I know I'm not the man my grandsire was, but I hope to begin well, and go on from there.” My very nervous nephew cleared his throat trying to address the bannermen properly.

Daemon moved away from my side shaking his fist in the air before pointing to the young lord. “Well said. One thing is clear...the Rivermen honor the old ways and abide by tradition. Here, then, is tradition. Grover Tully is dead. Lord Oscar raised up in his place. You have been summoned here to swear anew your fealty to him, and as his bannermen, answer his call.”

“And what would that call be?” A Riverlord I couldn’t recall the name of asked out into the open.

Daemon rested his left hand on the top handle of his sword that was attached to his hip. “In his wisdom, he has pledged his house, and yours, to me.”

“Lord Oscar, for generations we have been guided by the judgment of your forebears. Why should we now follow a boy, younger than my own sons, when you will align with one who will desecrate the innocent to reach his aims?” Lord Piper challenged my nephew.

Lord Blackwood pushed two other men who had chains wrapped around their wrists before the group. “I did only what was necessary, my lord. And I now deliver to you the traitor. Amos Bracken and his son.”

“No more traitor to his land. than you, Willem Blackwood.” Lord Piper scoffed at Lord Blackwood.

“I take to heart your words, Lord Piper, and I agree, I-I-I am young. And I have no love for Daemon Targaryen, unlike my beloved Aunt Y/n seems to. He has dishonored himself and the crown with his...comportment here.” Oscar turned back towards me and Daemon very slowly making me feel nervous knowing that me choosing to be with Daemon now put a target on my back against my former family House Tully. “Nevertheless, having so little experience to guide me, my best course is to defer to the oath my grandsire swore to King Viserys when he named Rhaenyra his heir. I see no reason to cast aside loyalty. no matter how loathsome I may find her representative, the prince.”

Daemon interrupted the young lord. “King. Mind your tongue, boy.”

“Daemon, don’t.” I stepped forward squeezing his forearm causing his purple eyes to drift down to meet my soft gaze.

Oscar slowly stalked over to the dragon prince getting in his face not fazed by what he had said. “Will you have our army or not? I am, in the end, a Riverman and the word of my house stands, even if certain people are unworthy of it.”

“Your Lord Oscar is bold. But he is perhaps not wrong. I may have been a touch enthusiastic. in pursuing my aims. But don't allow my failings to...keep you from supporting an upright man.” Daemon stepped beside Oscar shifting his gaze around to the other lords that surrounded them.

Lady Mallister spoke up. “Lord Oscar, we honor the old ways, as Prince Daemon says and the old ways call for justice to be done.”

“Justice has been done. They who bent the knee to the usurper have been brought to heel. And now, we unite before our liege lord...and our king consort.” Lord Blackwood yanked the two men who were his prisoners forward, eyeing his ledge lord to see if he was impressed or not by his actions.

“I accept you as my vassal, Willem Blackwood… but...I am Lord Paramount of all River Houses. And there is only one answer for the crimes you visited upon your neighbors.” Oscar raised a brow with a look of disgust to him.

Lord Blackwood wasn’t expecting that reaction from his lord. “I did only what His Grace the king required of me.”

“It is true that he made clear his base desires, but you did not have to pursue such savagery. You did it... because you wanted to.” Oscar deepened his voice in a threatening manner to one of his bannermen.

Another lord in the crowd raised his voice. “Our young lord speaks truly.”

Oscar simply declared. “Seize him.”

“God's no.” I gasped and brought a hand up to my lips briefly forgetting how we dealt with traitors in the Riverlands.

Willem Blackwood attempted to fight against his loyal lords dragging him before their Ledge Lord. “Don't fuckin' do this. Your Grace, command them. I've only served you. Command them.”

“If His Grace wishes to show contrition for his acts and to prove himself deserving of our banners he must now rectify his grievous error. Denounce your crimes...and dispense justice.” Oscar didn’t draw his sword and rather focused his eyes on the dragon prince telling him that he would be the one to take the lord's head.

“Oh, dear.” The knight who currently watches over the castle watched with nerves when my husband drew his sword and moved forward over Lord Blackwood who had been thrown down in front of him on his knees.

I didn’t realize a scream escaped my lips at the exact same time when Daemon raised his sword above his head and then lowered it beheading the man. “Ahh! D - Daemon.” I croaked with water eyes as he came back over to me, dropping his sword on the ground and just leading me inside the old castle.

“I didn’t think you’d have to see something like that. Are you - is the baby okay?” He asked me with a much gentler tone compared to the more serious one he had delivered to the Riverland Lords outside.

Placing one hand over his that was resting on my swollen belly I whispered meeting his eyes. “We’re alright, my king.”

“Good. I won’t lose my wife and little dragon if I can help it.” Daemon rested his forehead down against mine and I smiled about to kiss him till another set of doors around was flung opened by Simon Strong.

“Your Grace, my lady. Queen Rhaenyra has landed near the castle. She is requesting your presence, my prince.”

Clutching the fabric of Daemon's tunic in my fingers he pulled my head against his chest while I whispered under my breath very much terrified. “That can't be good for me.” Either she would accept me or try go feed me to her dragon.

127 notes · View notes

bucketsofmonsters · 1 year ago

Text

The Witch's Apprentice - Part 7

cw: demon summoning, prolonged isolation, size difference, agoraphobia, depression, more tags will be added as the story continues

male demon x afab reader

Word count: 3k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

You woke up alone and felt anything but. The distant buzz of people outside, on the streets, bustling about the hallways of the inn, felt suffocating. It all seemed so loud now, so deafening.

Lucien appeared in front of you, giving you a quiet “Good morning,” and suddenly, it wasn’t loud at all, his voice cutting through the hum that had seemed deafening moments before.

“How’re you doing?” he asked as you blinked up at him from your seat on the bed.

Was his voice quieter than usual? Or maybe that was just how people sounded with the constant buzz of a city in the background.

“I don’t have any stuff,” you said. It was a trivial complaint, you knew that, but you wanted something to hold onto. Anything that was yours, that wasn’t so foreign.

He laughed and it felt cruel. You knew it shouldn't, that he was trying to help, but it felt cruel that he was allowed to do that right now, while you felt like you’d been broken into pieces. “We’ll get you new stuff, don’t worry about that.”

Like it was that simple. Like you could just get new stuff and move on.

It wasn’t his fault. You knew that. He was the reason you were still here. But some part of you; some unsnuffable, horrible little instinct; wanted to blame him. Without him, you would still be home. Without him, nothing would have changed.

“I just…” you began, with no idea how to articulate any of this to him.

And then, with the most distressed expression you’d ever seen from him, he interrupted you and said, “I have to go. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

And that was it. He faded away and you were alone again.

You hated the deafening roar of the city he left you with.

At least when he was here, you could pretend things would be okay.

You didn’t have anything left. Anything but him. At least when he was in front of you, you had something to cling to.

Hours passed before he reappeared in front of you. When he did, you didn’t manage to get a word out before a string of curse words escaped him and he faded out of existence again.

You barely even moved as you waited for him. What would you do anyway? You had nothing to do but wait, so that’s what you did, patiently and quietly, on the bed he’d found for you.

It was a shorter wait this time, under an hour if you had to guess.

“Where do you keep going?” you asked as he solidified in the space in front of you. It was slower without you summoning him, like he had to put real effort into coming to you.

A pained expression flashed across his face, disappearing as quickly as it arrived. “I’m being summoned.”

“So often? You’re a popular demon,” you said it with the cadence of a joke, but neither of you found it particularly funny.

“Summonings go through phases,” he said with a sigh. “Names get discovered or obtain reputations. I was too nice for a while, people got comfortable, so I get called upon a lot these days. I’m rectifying my mistake. Hopefully, my name will start to come with a bad taste in people’s mouths in a few decades.”

“Oh. Good luck with that, I guess.”

“Thank you. It’s been going pretty well. Only one major lapse in my judgment,” he said with a pointed look in your direction.

You couldn’t help but smile a little at that. “I promise to tell everyone you were real mean to me. Very scary, the scariest demon you could imagine.”

A huff of laughter escaped him. “Good. My reputation may survive this little affair yet. Now, what have you been up to?”

Your eyes flicked around as you searched for an answer that wouldn’t sound horribly tragic.

He didn’t wait for you to find one before butting in at your obvious distress. “Come on, you don’t need to wait around for me. You haven’t had the chance to do anything in years, go talk to someone or something.”

You shrugged. “I’m fine where I am.”

He looked you up and down, evaluating you as you shrunk away from him. “What is it? Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened. I’m just fine in here.”

His eyes narrowed and you couldn’t understand why he didn’t believe you. Surely it wasn’t that difficult to understand. Surely anyone would be hesitant to go back out into the world after being stowed safely away for so long.

“Something happened,” he said, no longer a question and entirely incorrect.

“It really didn’t. Actually, as long as we’re talking about it, I was thinking. I probably shouldn’t be here at all. I mean, I’m not doing much here. I could always stay in hell with you. It would be easier that way.”

“No,” he snapped, and you flinched back at his harsh tone. “No,” he said again, softer this time, a quiet correction. “I will not let you just lock yourself away again. I will not be your new Eden.”

“I wasn’t asking you to be,” you lied, unconvincing even to yourself.

“You’ll be fine. Just go, talk to someone, get some fresh air. It’ll get easier.”

He didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, just how impossible it was.

“Yeah, I will. Don’t worry about me.”

He gave you an unmistakably worried look as he said, “Alright, I won’t. I just think that… shit.”

“Is it happening again?”

“Just go do something. I’ll be back when I can.”

As you laid down in bed, with no intention to go out and doing anything, you wondered just how often he got summoned. You’d never really considered it before. You knew it happened of course, but you’d never put real thought into it past how frustrating of an experience it must be for him.

What would happen if two people tried to summon him at once? Would it hurt? Rip him in two? You doubted that any of the witches summoning him had considered it either.

And what other things was he being forced to do out there? Surely Eden wasn’t the worst witch he’d ever encountered. What other horrible things weighed on him every day, that he couldn’t help but feel a little responsible for?

As time ticked on, another thought wormed its way into your head. Maybe he wasn’t being summoned at all. He’d never had to leave this often before he’d helped you make your daring escape and now he could barely stay with you for more than a few minutes.

It made sense. He’d done what he wanted to do. He’d freed you from the trap he was forced to lay. His part in this should be over, his guilt assuaged, if it weren’t for the way you clung to him like a lifeline.

The thoughts swam around your head until he appeared once more, looking irritated, eyes distant and cold.

The spark of insecurity in you couldn’t be snuffed out any longer, not even in the face of his bad mood.

“Are you actually being summoned?” you blurted out. “Because if you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to be.” You knew it wasn’t true, that you needed him, but still couldn’t stomach the idea of him forcing himself to be here. “I thought we were friends but maybe that was naive. Is it just guilt? Is that what all of this was?”

He sighed, his hands rising to rub at his temples. “It's not... I don't know. Maybe at the beginning. I wanted you to be bad. I needed you to be. And you weren’t and it was the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice quiet and broken and completely genuine.

“You really are, aren’t you? Sorry for what? Sorry for not being awful?”

“Well, not…” You weren’t entirely sure what you were apologizing for. You just knew that you were sorry. “I just meant, sorry for making things worse for you. That’s all.”

“You didn’t make anything worse, not in the long run. I like you. I’m glad you got out of there. It’s just that right at the start I needed you to be a bad person so I didn't feel so fucking guilty. I hate doing this, you know. Being so cruel. Especially to people like you. But if I don’t things get so much worse.”

“You’re not cruel,” you said, knowing it was true and yet somehow, deep down, knowing it was the last thing he wanted to hear.

“I didn’t used to be. That’s the rule. My new rule. No more being nice to the inexperienced ones. Witches like yours don’t give you opportunities to lash out so if you want to establish a reputation, you have to be cruel when you can be. Every single time they give you the chance. When the little witches summoning their first monster give you an opening, you strike. That way the next one thinks twice when they see your name in some summoning book.”

“That sounds awful.”

“Feels awful too. But nothing feels worse than being forced to do even crueler things so you do what you can. Lesser of two evils.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you said, knowing exactly what crueler things were flashing through his distant eyes.

“Maybe not. Still wouldn’t have happened without me. You weren’t the first, you know. You were the first victim she kept, sure, but not the first one who fell prey to that damn forest. You’ve probably seen what’s left of some of them, some bones and remains of them in various forms. She got plenty of use out of them, I’ll give her that much”

Your heart skipped a beat as he spoke and your mind pulled back to the various bones and bits of gore in jars that you’d tended to and organized for her over the years. You’d never thought about them before, not really. Even trying to remember them, it was like a haze began to form in your mind, a buzzing pain starting to settle in over the distant images.

You started to fall to the side before the feeling of a warm hand on your arm brought you out of your head. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he said, giving your arm a gentle squeeze before pulling back far too soon. “I’m sure she’s tainted most of your memories of anything she didn’t want you to see. It’s probably best to not try and look back.”

Now you had one more thing to mourn, even the memories of your home being ripped away from you. How cruel that you weren’t even allowed to keep those in this strange new place.

“Right. I’ll do my best.”

He nodded. “I know you will. You’ll be fine. You’ve been doing really well.”

It was a kind lie. You appreciated him for trying to tell it.

And then you were alone again.

You did try leaving this place. You swore you did, despite knowing in the back of your head that you couldn’t do it.

You peeked out the window on the tips of your toes down at unfamiliar faces on the street and stood at the door, pretending you knew how to steel yourself for the task ahead.

At the very least it was something to do with yourself when Lucien was away, gone to a summoning or back to hell or just living his life, doing things he refused to speak about with you, always keeping you at arms length.

But that was unfair. He was there when he could be during the day, when some other witch didn’t whisk him away against his will to do whatever they pleased.

He never spoke to you about it, about what they asked him to do. Every time you tried he got very quiet and then began to push back, asking you when you’d go outside.

Nothing quieted you faster than that.

At night he was always gone.

At night you were small again.

You hated sleeping, avoided it whenever you could. You were terrified of the dreams that might come. You’d honestly welcome a nightmare at this point. Your biggest fear was you would dream of home. Your biggest fear was waking up again after.

Instead, you just stared at the wall every night, waiting for it to be morning so you could wait for Lucien again.

A thud pulled you from your trance and your head jerked up towards the window just in time to see a bird falling to the ground below after having slammed into the glass it’s little mind couldn't comprehend.

You were moving before you even had time to think. It was for the best, you weren’t sure you could’ve managed it if you’d had to think it through, to force yourself to get up and go check on the poor creature.

You held your breath as you walked out the door of your room, freezing for a moment. You weren’t sure what you expected to happen.

A woman walked by you, turning to the side and slipping by where you were blocking the hallway with a quiet, “Excuse me, love.”

There was a pressure building in your head, behind your eyes, closing your throat. This foreign air felt toxic, a bile rising inside of you.

A gentle hand settled on your back and you practically jumped out of your skin to get away from it.

You bolted at the contact, frightened, flighty. Darted not back inside but through the halls until you found a way outside, running around the perimeter of the building until you found it.

It was a small, unassuming brown bird, crumpled on the ground, an injured wing tucked under itself.

You picked it up as gently as you could, cradling it in the palms of your hands.

Every instinct you had wanted you to run back and hide. Instead, you walked slowly, carefully, trying not to jostle the poor creature too much.

The woman was no longer in the hall, having left at some point after you’d fled from her. Some part of you felt bad, hoped you hadn’t hurt her feelings or left her worried.

Most of your attention was on the bird.

You had no idea how to help it, would have to ask Lucien tomorrow. You were terrified to touch the bent wing, to make it worse than it already was. Even attempting to set it would hurt the poor creature and you couldn’t stomach the thought of it, of inflicting any more pain.

You did what you could, forming a little bed to rest it in for the night, a little nest out of towels and pillows.

It was almost funny in a way. A makeshift nest inside of your makeshift nest. You were no better off than this frightened, wounded little creature.

At least maybe, someday, it could get out of here.

#terato #demon x reader #demon x human #monster bf #monster boyfriend #monster x human #monster x reader #demon #the witch's apprentice #This story has negative thematic subtlety lol #This is a little shorter than I like my chapters to be but sitting on it for weeks wasn’t doing me any good #I’ll get the next one out much faster #Pinky promise

513 notes · View notes

writteninlunarlight-years · 4 months ago

Text

Please Don't Prove I'm Right

This is based on the song Please Please Please (Epic Version) - by Morgan Clae. I haven't written in a long time; my mental health has taken a significant toll not too long ago. I have been going to some consistent therapy as well as taking things slowly on my own terms. I thank my support and followers right next to me as I recover. The banners are all from @venomhound. Please reach out to them for some excellent help with the Tumblr blog. They have been a big help to me. @literallurker is their main account. Thank you everyone for bearing with me. You are all amazing. My moons~

TW: AFAB Reader, Hurt, Graphic Details of Harm, Religious Truama's, Yandere Reader for a moment

In the beginning, heaven was a breathtaking expanse of glistening white, where clouds floated like soft pillows in an endless sky. The angels above drifted gracefully among them, their laughter echoing with pure joy, and the air held an ethereal light that felt almost alive. It was a realm of boundless beauty reserved solely for God’s beloved.

But everything changed when Lucifer, once the most cherished of all angels, was cast down. The pristine clouds darkened, their softness replaced by a bitter heaviness that weighed down the heavens. The once-gleaming landscape morphed into a realm of towering structures and watchful exorcists. The loss was palpable, as if the heavens themselves mourned the fall of its brightest star.

When you first encountered Lucifer, you were just a baby angel, a mere child of the heavens. You were newly formed, wide-eyed, and full of wonder, destined to guide the three humans wandering in the paradise of Eden. You felt an unshakeable bond with him—a connection transcending mere friendship. He was your sun, your air, the essence of your existence in this perfect world.

Lucifer was intoxicatingly brilliant, his spirit igniting something that felt sinful within you. Yet, whispers of his rumored affections for a human stirred around you. It was said that he had fallen for one of them—impossible, you thought. God’s favorite should follow divine order, untouched by earthly desires, especially for a mortal once destined for Adam and soon rejected.

As you flitted anxiously through the heavens, awaiting his return, you could feel the eyes of the other angels upon you, judgment simmering in their stares. Sera, a newly appointed Seraphim, approached her voice a gentle choir against your rummaging thoughts.

“Y/N, you seem troubled. Is everything all right?” Her youthful features were unmarred by the weight of time, yet you could sense the unspoken warnings in her tone.

“I’m just waiting for Lucifer,” you replied, forcing a smile. “He’s never taken this long before.”

You could hear the skepticism in her voice before you even looked up. “Y/N, he’s trouble. He doesn’t see you the way he sees that woman. His heart is blind to your devotion, lost to her instead.”

Each word struck like a dagger, stinging your eyes with tears. “No, Sera. He cares for me. He tells me everything about his adventures in Eden. He will come back for me.” Your voice trembled with hope and desperation as if your sadness could summon him.

Just then, like a flash of lightning, Lucifer burst through the gates, the embodiment of energy and life. He swooped down, wrapping you in a joyous embrace, spinning you through the clouds, laughter spilling from his lips like music. You could feel Sera’s disdain radiating from behind, but you didn’t care. In that moment, you were weightless, untouchable...his.

In an instant, he whisked you away to a secluded corner of heaven, where you could gaze down upon Eden. Confusion washed over you as you settled on a fluffy cloud, watching him pace with uncontainable excitement, his wings shimmering behind him. He was always so proud of his beautiful wings.

“Y/N! I’ve discovered how to make Father recognize the humans as equals!” he declared, his eyes alight with excitement.

“Why would you want that?” you asked, a knot tightening in your chest. “We’re different for a reason. We’re not meant to be like them.”

His face fell as he paused, the thrill evaporating. “I need them to be seen as equals so I can bring them to heaven with us! Don’t you remember everything I’ve shared? All the dreams I have?”

The ache in your heart deepened. You wanted to forget, to lose yourself in his bright hair and vibrant blue eyes, but the thought of Adam, Eve, and Lilith standing beside you twisted like a knife, no, not beside you...beside him. Two perfect couples, it seemed.

“Of course, I remember,” you said, forcing a smile. “Please, continue.” But inside, a storm raged between your heart and mind.

What if you could just keep him for yourself? What if you shattered his wings, leaving him grounded and broken? What if you descended into the chaos below and extinguished Lilith’s light? What if you bound him to your will, claiming him as your own?

In that moment, you felt the weight of your thoughts, and the realization stung sharper than any blade. He was meant for her, not for you. There is no way when he spoke of you to her, if he did that, she had these thoughts...were you even an angel?

A chill ran down your spine as these dark fantasies engulfed your mind, each thought more treacherous than the last. You gasped, the air thick with dread, realizing you were still with Lucifer, his presence a paradox of comfort and ongoing torment.

He rushed to you, his fingers brushing your cheek with a heavenly and cruel tenderness. His soothing yet distant voice echoed in your ears as a haunting melody. He was perfection incarnate, and you couldn’t fathom why those mere mortals deserved even a fraction of his devotion. You were willing to sin to keep him all to yourself...

After countless attempts to gain your attention, he realized it was futile. With a gentle sweep, he lifted you into the air, his wings unfurling majestically as he flew you to your resting zone—a serene haven that now felt like a ticking clock counting down to your last moment of peace.

If only you had known this would be your final day in his embrace, perhaps you would have listened more intently, held him tighter against the wind, and begged him to affirm that your bond was real—that his heart belonged to you, not to that woman on the surface.

But morning shattered the tranquility, a sudden onslaught of light and chaos. Angels gathered, their faces a storm of judgment as Lucifer stood before them, shackled and tormented, bound to that woman from below.

Tears blurred your vision as the reality of betrayal washed over you. He had chosen her, and in a cruel twist of fate, you were forced to witness your shame laid bare before God and all the Angels you shared home with.

Then came the searing pain—the molten metal of chains biting into your neck and wrists, dragging you toward the center of the circle of wrath. Confusion clouded your thoughts as you locked eyes with Sera, whose disdainful glance pierced through your confusion like a dagger.

“Y/N, DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU’VE BEEN SUMMONED HERE WITH THESE TWO TRAITORS?” The voice boomed, a thunderous echo that reverberated through your very essence. You looked past Sera to see Him—the man the Archangels called Father, his presence both majestic and terrifying. With a shaky breath, you swallowed your fear and shook your head.

“No, Father, I don’t understand. Why am I being punished?” Each word felt like a desperate plea, even as the burning sensation clawed at your skin, choking you of your right to breathe.

“Father, please! Y/N is innocent! She knew nothing of my plans; she was ill when I confided in her last night!” Lucifer’s voice, once a safe haven for your soul, now felt like salt in an open wound. The sincerity in his plea twisted your heart, revealing the depths of betrayal you had yet to fully grasp.

“Silence, Lucifer, for God speaks! The matter at hand isn’t who has wronged whom but that this angel knew of your treachery and chose to remain silent!” Your world crumbled hearing Sera’s voice. You were to fall alongside those who had deceived you, tethered to the very man who had strung you along with promises and soft whispers late in the night, now choosing to partake in those nights with Lilith instead.

“FOR YOUR PUNISHMENT, Y/N, YOU WILL BE THE JUDGE OF THE SPACE BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH. YOU WILL DETERMINE THE FATE OF SOULS, FOR YOU HAVE CHOSEN TO WALK AMONG BOTH SIDES! YOU WILL FACE ETERNAL LONELINESS AND ISOLATION FOR YOUR TRANGRESSIONS UPON HEAVEN AND EDEN!” Fear engulfed you, a suffocating darkness that threatened to consume all hope. You were to be cast into a purgatory of your own making, alone and forsaken.

“Release her shackles!” As Sera’s voice cut through the air like a blade, you felt the chains around you dissolve, yet the burn marks remained, a permanent reminder of your choices. You were thrust away from Lucifer, your heart pounding against the confines of your chest, and when your eyes finally met his, you saw the flicker of concern. It ignited a deep-seated rage within you.

Pain shot through your back like lightning as your wings began to transform from gleaming white to a deep, obsidian black. Your halo, once a radiant gold, dulled to bronze, and your skin took on a gray hue. The purity of your existence was now tainted by your one-sided love for Lucifer.

“FATHER, NO! SPARE HER!” Lucifer’s desperate cries echoed through the heavens, but they fell on deaf ears. You stood there, hollowed out, your heart aching not for the punishment before you but for the betrayal that had led you here.

As the Archangel Michael took his stance next to Lucifer, he raised his sword, poised to sever Lucifer's wings. You were forced to witness the agony of his fall. His screams of anguish faded into the abyss as the clouds beneath you crumbled, sending you spiraling into your new reality.

For years, you lingered in purgatory, a silent reaper of the soul’s passage, guiding some to Heaven’s light and casting others into the depths of Hell. With each soul that passed through your hands, your heart grew heavy with bitterness, festering into a resentment that twisted into distaste. You found yourself haunted by thoughts of Lucifer—by the life he now shared with her, the woman who claimed his heart and turned your world upside down.

Then came the day you were summoned to Heaven, tasked with presenting your report on the balance of Winners and Sinners. It was there, amid the looming towers and the changed landscape of your once home, that you first laid eyes on her—Charlie Morningstar, a living echo of Lucifer, with his fiery spirit shimmering in her every gesture.

As you sat in the grand jury meeting, the air thick with tension, you listened to the murmurs of angels discussing Lucifer and Lilith’s child. Your heart ached as you watched Charlie fight for her dreams, her passion reminiscent of his—how he had once battled for his aspirations, now he was seemingly forgotten till Charlie showed up.

Then, as if summoned by fate, Adam snapped his fingers, opening a portal to cast Charlie and her partner back to hell. Just as it threatened to close, a surge of instinct propelled you forward, a desperate need to reach him again, the man you loved, to grasp the fleeting connection you had lost. You rushed toward the portal, your heart racing, your soul crying out to see him missing you.

On the other side, Lucifer stood, his eyes wide with shock and recognition. Amidst his hand, a cold golden band sat, showing where his commitments lie. Time froze as you locked gazes, every unspoken word hanging heavy between you. He extended his hand, a lifeline reaching through the veil, but the portal snapped shut instantly, severing the moment like a blade.

Tears welled in your eyes as despair washed over you, your head drooping low as the chamber emptied around you. Sera approached her presence, a gentle reminder of all those years ago, offering solace amid your sadness.

"It's time to let go, Y/N," she murmured, her voice soft yet firm. You nodded, feeling the weight of her words settle heavily in your chest. With a trembling hand, you reached out to the wall where the portal had been, yearning for the connection that had vanished.

As Sera sighed and stepped away, you whispered, “Please, please, please prove I’m right...Please, please, please don’t bring me to tears for one more night...”

Years of pent-up emotions, longing, and heartache surged in a wave. A soft black glow began to envelop you. It consumed you, drawing you back into the solitude that Lucifer had unwittingly gifted you—a prison of your own making. Purgatory was your new and forever home.

Instead of proving you right, Lucifer had always been a master of disappointment, a beacon of hope that burned too bright yet always flickered just out of reach. He would continue to choose her, leaving you alone in the shadows, grappling with the remnants of a love that had never truly belonged to you. Or...did it...

Thank you again, everyone, for the support; I will slowly take steps back into the community one foot at a time. I hope you enjoy my pieces and stick around for my growth <3

#x reader #lunarwritings #moons #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #Lucifer x reader #Lucifer x you #Lucifer x reader fluff #Lucifer x you fluff #hazbin hotel Lucifer #hazbin Lucifer #Lucifer fluff #Lucifer #Theduckyking #thekingofhell

101 notes · View notes