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arioloyal · 1 year ago

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Could you please write a fanfiction based on previous request of obsessive insecure Baldwin IV with female reader

I'll accept this idea since all of you are in love with his obsessive mood but I warn you, it's angst :) but don't worry, I'll do fluff one next time♡

(King baldwin iv x reader one shot)

Warning: angst, mention of blood and d🥀eath

:"I thought that you kept me by your side until now just because of your interest in me"...

:"It's not what you think, I have kept you until now so that I can keep the peace between Jerusalem and your father's empire . Believe me. It's good for both of us."

:"How could you be so selfish like your father?...

:"I'm not!...

"Please... let me go. I have to go back to my family. My father is surely mad with that. I beg you."

:"what about me?"...

Teardrops appeared like a shaky curtain in front of y/n's large and beautiful eyes. Her mouth was open and ready for another protest, but no words came out.

While holding both of y/n's hands in his own, the half-life king, in a sudden movement, weakness overcame his strength and fell to his knees.

"You thought I would let you go? I will never let you be separated from me.

:"I...it really breaks my heart to think that I've only been here as a hostage until now. I swear I'll get out of here anyway."

:"I am ready to k*ill you with my own hands, but I will never let you leave here. Your whole body and soul belong here. And also to me. Only me."

.....

:" god help me!... My legs can't take it anymore. How much left?...

"My lady! Now we are approaching the gate of Damascus, but the front of the gate is full of guard knights. It seems that the king has heard of your escape."

:".....

"My lady, do you have any idea?"

:"We have to wait for a convoy so that we can impersonate them and pass through this gate. A convoy is coming from far away. Hurry up and tell them that we will join them from now on. don't Tell them our real name. Hurry up."

:"Obeyed, my lady."

They finally managed to convince the head of the caravan to join their trade caravan. It wasn't long before the sound of fast hooves could be heard, kicking up dust on their way. After the guards finished inspecting the convoy, a man's loud voice broke the silence.

:"Stop! Nobody move!"

And that was the exact moment that panic sent shivers down y/n's spine. her eyes widened. This was the voice of Tiberias who had come here with his knights. There could not have been a worse disaster.

:"What happened, Lord Tiberias?! It's usually very rare to see you among the caravans!" The leader of the caravan stated with an almost mocking and sweet tone.

:"We're looking for a lady! She's tall and fair-faced. With dark,long curly hair. Have you seen such a person here? Has she asked you for help? If so, hand her over to us, or I'll confiscate this caravan and get you all in prison."

His strong words and threats caused a wave of protest and panic among the people who were there. Y/n would never let innocent people be sacrificed for her. There, she gathered all her courage and surrendered to God's will. she suddenly came forward from the crowd and shouted...

:"Wait!..." y/n took off her veil and black turban. For a few moments, breaths caught in their chests and all the knights stared at their king's lover in surprise.

Finally accompanied by Tiberias and his knights, Y/n arrived at the entrance gate of the palace. That palace was like a hell that had no escape and the owner of such a beautiful hell was a masked ghost whose blood stained eyes were visible under the mask.

Soldiers and knights were lined up on either side of Baldwin, all the templars, lord Lusignan and some nobles were also there. Was this a greeting? Or a trial?

:"my lord. We found Lady y/n trying to escape from Damascus Gate. This was her third failed attempt to escape."

Baldwin IV didn't seem to pay attention to what Tiberias was saying and the whole time he was staring at y/n who was now helplessly looking down at the ground.

:"Didn't I tell you some time ago that I won't let you go?"

:"My love for you was undeniable. But you abused my love and chose selfishness. I will never stay here as a hostage. I won't stay where I don't belong."

Everyone present witnessed their conversation when suddenly y/n turned away from the leper king and looked towards the exit gate. ready to leave for good.

:"STAY THERE!" His loud and scary voice made the heart beat in everyone's chest. In an unexpected move, he took Tiberias's sword with his good right hand. Everyone there looked in horror at the king approaching y/n and now standing in front of her. No one dared to speak.

:"If you take one more step..." The hand that was holding the sword started shaking. he wished this wasn't the last resort.

Unfortunately, y/n moved forward without listening to him. A tear fell from her eye at the last moment...

That was the moment...

y/n's scream echoed there. No thoughts, no words. just pain the pain. just pain.

There was nothing she could do but helplessly hold her hand to her stomach to stop the warm, red liquid from running down her long dress. The king's sword was stained with blood...

Her knees was getting weaker by the minute. Y/n was hugged by baldwin iv before she fell to the ground. The king, who was now out of his instincts, just realized what a disaster he had caused. He had sent his lover to d*eath.

:"No...n...no! I..I didn't mean to...I was wrong...forgive me. Please...forgive me my y/n. My beautiful white rose, Forgive me..." he sobbed nonstop and begged like a little boy.

:"Still... I still love you... poor you... poor me..."

:" Y/N!!"....

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cosmereclysmic · 2 years ago

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⚠️ Full Stormlight Archive Spoilers ahead!!!

My toxic trait is that I think the Davar soulcaster belonged to Shallan from day one and that Lin promised it to the Ghostbloods at some point and that's why they're riding the Davar's asses about it. I might be misremembering, but there was something about that scene where Shallan mentioned to Mraize the GBs lent the soulcaster to them, and there's SOMETHING about the way Mraize replied that felt like a lie. I'm convinced he rolled with Shallan's memory-twist bc if he said "no your dad promised it to us in the first place in exchange for figuring it how it worked" she might reclaim it / turn the situation around on him. (She wouldn't bc she's riding on self-deceit.)

The theory actually gets wibbly when Jasnah is looking at the soulcaster and says that, no, it's fake also. But what makes a soulcaster fake and what makes it real? Is definitely the metal. But maybe Shallan, with her dissassociative lightweaving shenanigans, light weaved it to look fake??

Either way, the biggest clue IMO is when we first met Testament, her inkspren buddy said he found her on an island in the East, then traveled to Nameless together. Nameless is just South of Urithiru, which is the center of the super continent. To the East of Nameless is Khabranth, then the Frostlands, and oh, I don't know, the place where the Wind's Pleasure sank?? You know... where the soulcaster was lost "forever"??

"But Megs, there's the matter of the scene where Shallan takes out Tyn. We don't know if that was Testament or Pattern!" STILL THE FROSTLANDS. STILL EAST OF NAMELESS. So are the Shattered Plains, where Shallan opened the Oathgate. That may have been where Shallan finally dumped Testament once and for all. A little island to the East.

Shallan also can't soulcast worth a single lavis grain. It wouldn't surprise me if Soulcasting reminds her of her time back home. Can't be remembering too much about that time by repeating something you might've done in secret, like making mineral deposits to help your parents' financial troubles, and risk all that guilt and shame crashing down and breaking her for good, right? Soulcasting is heavily tied to Testament, while Lightweaving is tied to Pattern. Compartmentalization, baby!!!!

There's also the Nostalgia that floods Veil when she first holds the communication box to Mraize. There's something very interesting going on there. The Davar's are connected with Ba-ado-mishram. The Ghostbloods REALLY want BAM. Little Shallan finding a communication cube, either pilfered from her father's study out of curiosity? Maybe dropped my accident? Maybe dropped on purpose? 🤔

Anyways there's my crack theory hope it actually makes sense thank you for coming to my TED talk. 👁👄👁💅

#KOWT speculation #WoK Spoilers #WoR Spoilers #OB spoilers #RoW spoilers #Stormlight Spoilers

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j2zara · 5 months ago

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thinking about. the day after wedding night roleplay w/ porter and j2. j2 comes back to the other clones and he's still wearing the tiara, the ripped veil, the stockings and gloves. he's got a lacy cover-up on. he looks so wrecked. and he's sooooo happy. floating on air. hes giggling at nothing. "j3, h4, you'll NEVER guess what porter and i did <3 <3" and j4's like. trying to keep j3 from strangling poor j2 like "its not j2's fault he's hard-wired to crave affection, just let him have this, he'll settle down in a couple of days. maybe sooner if jaceprime finds out"

cries bc. I genuinely think like. J3 is very easy on j2 a lot of the time like j3 doesn't like being so jealous especially when he never asked for what j2 has with porter he always acts like that was something he would never want but also like, was he ever given a choice when everyone decided he was the spare? And he KNOWS J2 is the one who takes on the most and is that fair to be angry that he is the one who gets to be the favorite.

But i do think despite all this this is probably the nastiest J3 has ever been to J2 in his life. And like. It starts off very just like. Curt and whatever and he's trying to be cool about it. but. J2 is like. Did i do something wrong? to j4 b/c i think J3 is mad at me.... He hasn't looked me in the eye ONCE since we got back. And i apologized about the shoes and thanked him and everything! And told him we could get new ones. Porter said it was ok. They'll be even nicer than the ones i broke. And j3 won't even say it outright, he just teases J2 about how stupid the whole thing is and how schmaltzy and also is like. a huge huge bitch about j2 ruining his shoes which is fair enough i guess but even he knows they were cheap and one outing away from snapping anyway. This whole idea was so trashy you look like a wreck (you look like a whore, like hypocrite much?) you better clean up before jaceprime gets back. We had to pick up the slack while you guys were away so you have a lot of shit to do.

and poor j2 doesn't even understand. Because J3 doesn't unpack his shit w/ j2, he always runs to j4 about it. and j4 is honestly kind of tired of being his therapistgirlfriend who he happens to fuck when she's also in a ton of pain and keeps it all to herself but that's not even the issue right now. I mean. It's kinda the issue. And like. He won't even be direct to her about what is bothering him and that pisses her off even more. Because like. It's obviously about how he's in love with porter and wont admit it. It's obvious that he's jealous. But don't take your shit out on me. I didn't ask for that. And even she like. Even she's kinda unfair about it tho bc like she can only really rationalize this as like. In this kind of demeaning way of. well J2 can't help himself he is hard wired to crave porter's affection. And like. She's kinda right but she also just can't conceptualize why anyone would EVER choose to stay in this kind of situation, how they could choose porter, how they might even be happy at least sometimes, when its so fucked. (Why would you stick around in something that doesn't make you happy? Why would you choose to stay? Even if there was some sort of reprieve, could it justify the rest? She is not ready to look her self appointed obligation to j3 in the face is she)

But yeah j2. As far as j2 is concerned. He's like. I thought you guys would be happy for me.... I mean. J3, you've been making fun of the schmaltzy romance thing from the very beginning, why do you care if there were rose petals on the bed, you don't even LIKE flowers (actually in my head j3 does like flowers just not bouquets, you didn't hear that from me) and J4 i get that you see this as some sort of pathetic tragic pitiful thing, like i knew you would never see it my way but can't either of you at least pretend!!! It was one day! One day! And I never complain about anything! i'm a bad person for even admitting any of this bothers me ok! (He's honestly terrified of what's gonna happen with Jaceprime and he's worried he's gonna get dispelled for real and. maybe if that happened he would deserve it). It's just like. Why couldn't you just say you're happy for me and then bitch about me to each other behind my back like you always do!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And then he surges so bad he nearly sets the house on fire.

#jan.ask #clone enjoyers anonymous

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eosofspades · 2 years ago

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@kanawolf @wiggler-of-hope @runeb0y @nuciboli @i-walk-the-badlands @zythann @thetruenightzedge

oh i'm so glad you asked. this is a long one

reason 1: expectation subversion. the Witness has been set up as the Big Bad since Witch Queen, and i think it would be VERY cool for Bungie to yank the rug out from beneath our FPS-gamer boots and have our main antagonist be not only someone we can't fight with the Power of Friendship and Also This Gun, but someone we don't even have to fight. it would be a great parallel to the battles with Ghaul/Eramis (in that we do shoot at them until they are downed, then they get back up and are promptly either obliterated/imprisoned by the very force they are trying to use; but this time with the fun twist that we don't even have to shoot at them first.)

reason 2: the absolute power of the Winnower. again, the Witness has been set up as a MASSIVE antagonist for four seasons now, and shown to have been a threat since the first Collapse. consider the brilliant and absolutely terrifying show of power from the Winnower for it to show up in the final moments, where the Guardian is helpless, Neomuna under siege, the Veil almost in the Witness' hands, when all hope seems lost - then the Winnower arrives in a blaze of darkness and incomprehensibility, flicks a single finger (which only exists because this is an allegory), and blows the Witness straight to kingdom fucking come.

but why would the Winnower do this? because of reason 3: i don't believe the Witness is serving the Winnower's true intentions.

i've talked about this before but i am a long-time believer that the Witness is acting FAR more of its own accord than obeying the wishes of the Winnower. if you know me, you know that being utterly obsessed with the Unveiling lore book is one of my core personality traits, and i have a LOT of thoughts on the Winnower's philosophy in comparison to the Witness' actions.

there's a quest - i believe it's the one inside the Europan Pyramid during Witch Queen? - where Ghost says to the Guardian, "The Darkness is a neutral force, but the Pyramids have an agenda." as we know now, the Witness seems to be the one in total command of the Black Fleet, with its appointed Disciples seeming to get their own sub-groups of legions (at least, Rhulk has his own Pyramid and Calus seems to have his own separate army of Darkness!Cabal laying siege to Neptune). we also know now that the Witness, the Winnower, and the Darkness are not the same things, the way the Traveler, the Gardener, and the Light are.

anyway, in regards to Unveiling, the chapter 'The Wager' is what has me most convinced of this.

"You are the gardener's final argument. It would mean everything if I could convince you that I am the right and only way.

I truly value you. To the gardener, you are a means to an end. To me, you are majestic. Majestic. You are full of the only thing worth anything at all.

I am, by the only standard that matters or will ever matter, the winning team. Existence is a test that most will fail. Would you not count yourself among the victorious few?

Don't hurry to deliver your answer. I'll come over and hear it for myself."

now, obviously we should probably be taking the word of the Winnower with a heavy dash of salt, but I would bet my entire vault and everything in it that the Winnower does fully intend to make good on its promise to meet us personally. Moreover, the Winnower seems to really, really want to sway the Guardian to its side, even if it's just the Guardian and not Humanity as a whole; whereas the Witness just seems to really want the Traveler and Humanity gone.

there's also the line from the final Witch Queen cutscene in which the Witness says, "Your pale heart holds the key." the Witness seems like it has its own agenda, and it wants the Traveler's "heart" to make it happen. (which, side note, i am SO CURIOUS about what the inside of the Traveler might look like hello)

now. i could talk about my interpretation of the relationship between the Gardener and Winnower, and how i don't believe that the Winnower wants the Gardener dead even for a second, even if it says it does, and that i think what the Winnower really wants is for the Gardener to come home and play the game with them again, but that's honestly an entirely different post on its own and this one is already long enough. (let me know if you want to see it though because i would LOVE to write it sometime.)

but what i am trying to say is that i don't believe that the Winnower's "end goal" is for everything except the One Final Shape to exist; i think the final shape is multitudes (and also it's the Vex), and also that it's an ongoing thing. i'm coming back to Unveiling again, but,

Unveiling, The Flower Game:

"In the morning, the gardener pushed seeds down into the wet loam of the garden to see what they would become.

In the evening, the winnower reaped the day's crop and separated what would flourish from what had failed."

and Unveiling, The Final Shape:

"'It always ends the same,' the gardener complained. 'This one stupid pattern!'

Aren't they beautiful? I asked, as the flowers opened and closed in patterns beyond the scope of entire universes to encode, all-devouring and perhaps everlasting. Not even we could know whether a pattern in the flowers would cycle forever, or someday halt."

key words, "always" and "cycle." this was the pattern, and it went on forever because it took place before the existence of anything at all, including time itself. the Winnower balked at the mere suggestion of changing anything about the pattern or the Flower Game. there was never just One singular winner of the Game, and every day they tried again. the death of everything outside of Absolute Perfection just feels so far from what the Winnower seems to strive for. (a universe where only those who "must" exist can be allowed to exist, and only those who are strong enough to hold onto existence have the claim to it.)

of course, we don't know enough about the Winnower to determine what degree of control it has over its servants, but if it's anything like the Traveler (which has no real control over the Guardians/Ghosts, and wouldn't use it if it did), it's not at all out of the realm of possibility that the Witness might be following its own plans now, rather than obeying the whims of the Winnower (even if it may have started out as a servant of the Winnower/Darkness, which are, again, separate things).

it's also worth mentioning that virtually none of the forces of Darkness are actually aligned in any meaningful way. the Worm Gods are agents of the Deep, but the Hive themselves are warmongers out of necessity to keep their hunger sated. Savathun abandoned the Witness and the Deep entirely; Nezarec is implied to have betrayed the Witness in some way (possibly to further his own goals with his whole nightmare/"god of pain" thing); Calus is a Disciple exclusively because he wants to be the True And Final Thing in existence, and merely sees Disciplehood as a means to get there; Eramis was manipulated into servitude to the Witness' wishes but her motivation is exclusively hatred of the Traveler (and the Lightbearers by extension); we still don't REALLY know where Xivu Arath stands in terms of the rest of the agents of Darkness, but seems to be grouped into the same category as the Hive; and even Rhulk seemed more devoted to the Witness itself than to its ideals. it seems entirely possible to me that the Witness, while technically spreading the Darkness, is also acting on its own terms rather than carrying out those of the Winnower. at the absolute least, i find it very hard to believe that the Winnower approves of everything the Witness is doing.

all of this to say, i really think that it would be absolutely fantastic if, for the Lightfall finale, the Winnower rocks up in all its incomprehensible glory, blasts the Witness into utter oblivion, then turns to the Guardian, classy as a clam, and goes, "SO sorry about that guy. Honestly, you give one being a fleet of ships and suddenly everyone's a Disciple of the Dark. So, have you thought about my question at all?"

someone PLEASE ask me for my essay on why for the lightfall finale i think the winnower should show up and blast the witness all the way to kingdom come

#I SPENT SEVERAL HOURS ON THIS #mine #destiny 2 #the witness #the winnower #lightfall #long post #my second wish is for the grand finale of destiny to be for the traveler to grow a tree straight up through the winnower ferngully-style #but thats neither here nor there #eos destiny essays

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ninjakk · 2 years ago

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Can i throw you a bone for some meta? So there’s a foot note in the seven seas en trans of mdzs that’s been echoing in my brain for the past month (vol 3 pg 56):

[The Four Great Grudges of ancient times are] “murder of one’s father (not patricide), robbery of one’s wife, annihilation of one’s country, and slaughter of one’s clan. A som will not have fulfilled his proper duty until the wrong is avenged, even at the cost of his life.”

Unfortunately I can’t find the Chinese source term (it should be somewhere in chps 51-55, when LWJ shoves some medicinal herbs at WWX’s burn mark despite his leg being bitten by the giant turtle monster.) Anyway, this totally reframed the narrative for me cuz I got thinking about who actually followed through, and the ‘statue of limitations’ on that vengeance. And then a lot about how Jiang Cheng was able to get his revenge, but he specifically didn’t let Jin Ling follow through on his, despite the Ghost General offering up his own head. Does Jiang Cheng actually have any rights to pursue further vengeance against Wei Wuxian after his first death? (And as a side note, how come no one ever calls him Jiang Wanyin except when he introduces himself to Lan Xichen and that final scene at the Jiang family mausoleum? It’s even like that in the donghua.) Then whether Lan Sizhui, after having been formally adopted into the Lan clan, has any right to vengeance at all. Is it like ‘war times, war crimes’ and then in peace times nothing you can do about it?

Food for thought. Would be super awesome if you answered, but no pressure. Have a lovely day :)

Hi Anon,

Thanks for your ask ☺️

I've been sitting on this a while, as I wasn't quite sure how to approach this - so apologies for the late response.

It's a very interesting question! And admittedly, it's not something I paid much attention to during my reading of the 7s version.

I'm not sure how seriously people take the little added extras 7s have 'bestowed' upon us, to be honest. They added a character bio for NHS that stated his weapon as 'crying' - which is hilarious, but not really canon.. well 🤔 They also rather infamously added a character bio for JFM that looked suspiciously like Madam Yu wrote it herself - just to name a few! So personally, I do take everything they add as 'extras' with a pinch of salt.

But, as you took the time to send such a detailed and interesting ask - we can certainly have a look at it! 🤗

These are my own opinions of course, and others may have different ideas. But as I said, this is just for fun.

Personally I don't think JC has any right at revenge against WWX in either lifetime. But since we're referencing the 'Four Great Grudges' as a reason - his apparent claim would be 'slaughter of one's clan'. But WWX did not slaughter the clan. Although the Wen sect gave WWX as the thinly veiled reason for coming to the sect, he was not the real cause and it was not by his own hand. JC even admitted later in the novel that the Wen sect would have eventually attacked either way. If we look at it another way though, JC definitely got revenge for the death of his father and the slaughter of his clan. He contributed in bringing the Wen sect down and (practically) annihilated the entire clan with the rest of the cultivation world. So he's had his revenge, that's for certain - and technically, that is very much thanks to WWX!

As for JL, his reason for revenge, according to the 'Four Great Grudges' would be 'murder of one's father'. This is a tough one. Firstly, his father died during a surprise attack on WWX - where WWX was just trying to defend himself during an ambush. Granted JZX was only there to stop the attack, but WWX wasn't sure if he should trust him. Since JZX was the one who invited him in the first place, it's difficult not to be suspicious! JZX wasn't very fair in asking WWX to back down first, when he was the one who was being attacked either. At this point WWXs trust is broken, so it's a big ask for him to step down first and put his life at risk. Not that it excuses the fact he was killed of course. JZXs death, although tragic, was an accident after all, so it technically wasn't murder as such. Not that anyone thought that at the time, they had already painted WWX as evil no matter what he did. But I guess in JLs eyes it was murder either way.

I'm not sure what JL knows about what happened back then - but considering the rumours and JC being his uncle, it probably had WWX as the devil incarnate. As JL was only a little baby at the time, JC might have exacted revenge for him by proxy after leading the siege at the burial mounds - so does that count? Granted, JC didn't kill WWX - but he did die during the siege.

Eventually, JL does attempt (albeit, perhaps halfheartedly) to exact revenge on WWX, once his identity is publicly revealed. Once he knows MXY is definitely WWX, he subsequently stabs him. Thankfully WWX lives and it seems JL is actually relieved about that!

In the end JL focuses all his hatred and blame on WN - because he's gotten to know WWX and has realised he's not this awful person people say. After all, WWX has saved him and others a number of times now. It's JLs own choice to let the past stay in the past in the end. WN offers JL the opportunity to take his frustration out on him, while they're sailing towards Lotus Pier near the end of the novel - but he doesn't. JL later witnesses WN being punched straight through the heart, just like WN did to his father all those years ago. This all happened while WN was trying to protect JC and JL from the incredibly ripped fierce corps that is NMJ. I think JL does indeed have some of his mother's good traits after all. In the end he lets all this hatred go and moves on. So I guess he doesn't technically fulfil his duty according to the 'Four Great Grudges' - but you know what, I don't think either of his parents would want him to anyway. Yes, even JZX!

Finally, onto LSZ!

I don't think LSZ would take revenge on people for what happened to his clan to be honest. He has the same core values of both WWX and LWJ, because of the way he was brought up. Yes, WWX took revenge back when he escaped the burial mounds, but WWX was not in the right frame of mind at that point in time. He was utterly traumatised and his mental state was incomprehensible. But WWX doesn't take revenge in his second life. He lets the past stay in the past, moving on to have the happily ever after he deserves, with LWJ. He knows full well, no good will come from revenge in the end.

If LSZ was going to take revenge, who would he take it out on? The whole cultivation world participated in the siege that killed his family. Including to a lesser extent, the Lan clan. His deceased relatives even resurrected to help WWX and everyone fighting against the corpses during the second siege. Just like WWX, the Wen remnants saved people who had been there during the first siege, as well as their descendants. People who might have contributed to their deaths. Yet they helped save them. I think even if A-Yuan wanted to seek retribution, this would be going directly against not only his dead relatives wishes and sacrifice - but everything WWX and LWJ have attempted to protect him from. LWJ went to great lengths to cover up LSZs connection to the Wen sect, even giving him the Lan last name - all in order to keep him safe. LSZ would never disregard what either of them have done for him, even if he wanted revenge. At least I don't think so!

As for the 'statue of limitations', obviously I'm not sure what the laws and such are in MDZS - but from the fact people are still after revenge on WWX some 13 years later, I'd say there probably isn't any statue of limitations! So I guess it's just a free-for-all!

As one of the cultivators at the second siege said:

"...With the works of karma, it’s never too late for revenge!”....

Chapter 68

It seems to be the general consensus for revenge!

*Your side note on JC's name. Others do use his courtesy name; such as JGY, JGS and LWJ. We don't tend to hear him interact with others that often and when we do it's usually as "Sect Leader Jiang" or something similar. Other than family or friends, when he is directly called by his birth name, this is out of disrespect from people he has usually angered (cultivators on Dafan Mountain and so on). Obviously WWX uses his birth name out of familiarity, as he does with LWJ. But apart from that, people use his courtesy name or honorifics ☺️

Hope you have a lovely day Anon! And thank you again for the ask 🤗

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #mdzs novel #anon ask #answered ask #welcome to my ted talk #seven seas translations and their little snippets of random information!

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kiridarling · 4 years ago

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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒

izuku midoriya | ft. ceo!au + praise + exhibitionism + breaking and entering + body worship + f!reader + more! minors dni.

— 3.8k words

“When I saw you this evening, in that ballgown, I knew I just had to have you. But I can't be a gentleman for much longer, as much as I'd like to."

You’ve always hated Chopin.

“L’œuf mimosa, Madame?”

After turning down the poor waiter whose arms quiver under the weight of the plates, you turn back to your red wine and people-watching. The ballroom is full of golds and reds, the amber lighting illuminating the intricately decorated walls. And you sit in the middle of it all—you and your 147 billion net-worth, with a ball gown that’s caught at least half the aristocratic asshole’s attention, not that they were very loyal to their wives in the first place.

You're not here for their attention, though. You’re strictly here for business—and frankly, you want to do nothing more than sock these fat business moguls in their chubby faces until their teeth fall out and demand they pay their taxes. But, seeing as you’re the only woman here who isn’t a gold-digging wife, you bite your tongue.

You’ve always dreaded black tie events, but as you’ve said, duty calls.

A whine filters through the speakers, followed by two amplified taps and a clear of a throat. The murmur down as the auction's owner takes the center of the stage, stilling in front of the next piece of art—hidden behind a black veil—before adjusting the tie to his business suit.

“I’m glad that you all could be with us tonight. I have both a great privilege and honor to host this event,” he announces, bulbous head already growing damp under the heat of the stage lights. “Now that we're almost at the end, I'm sure you won't be disappointed. Saving the best for last, as one does."

He includes a casual wave to his comment and the audience erupts in a flurry of chuckles, though not for long. As he walks over to the piece, hand raised and ready to reveal, silence seizes the room by the neck.

"Well. Shall we?”

The audience balances on the edges of their seats, with millions of wide eyes and thrumming chests in anticipation. A smooth flick of a hand and the black sheet is removed, and there sits the only piece you’ve had your eyes on all night. She’s even more beautiful up close.

“El Bacio, The Kiss. Francesco Hayez, 1859.”

The grip around your glass tightens. The brilliant blue from the woman’s dress in the oil painting may as well burn your eyes, and the surrounding murmurs peak with your interest. You know it's yours without question, though—you can outbid almost anyone in this room. Anyone that matters, anyway.

“This is the original version, originally commissioned by Count Alfonso Maria Visconti of Saliceto. It was donated to the Pinacoteca di Brera in 1886 and went missing in 1937. Starting at ten million.”

You try not to scowl. The fucker jacked up the price by two million.

“Twelve million,” the man says as he recognizes whoever lifted a hand. You sit tight, your hands throbbing in your lap for the right moment as you survey the room for anyone who could possibly pose a threat. You find none.

The bidding continues. The price elevates from twelve million to fifteen to thirty to fifty. You raise a hand, finally, fingers splayed wide and confident to signify a five.

“Fifty-five million.”

The room falls silent; you try not to smile. You know for a fact no one wants this painting more than you do, and you’re determined to have it.

“No one else?”

His eyes scan the room but no one makes a motion. It’s yours.

Until there’s movement from your peripheral.

“Sixty million!”

You eye whoever had the audacity to raise their hand, only to be met with a rather peculiar sight—a man, roughly your age, with slicked-back green hair and a hand twice the size of yours, lifted lazily in the air.

With a huff, you find yourself thrusting another five into the air.

“Sixty-five millio—Seventy million!”

You know that green-haired (probably) trust fund baby has got to be doing this for fun because the poorly hidden smirk hidden behind the hand he rests his chin on is more than obvious.

You dislike him already, immediately categorizing him with the rest—another sleazeball.

“Seventy-five million!”

“Eighty million!”

“One hundred million!”

In your defense, you were getting frustrated.

Either way, the green-haired stranger backs off with a nonchalant shrug, and it makes you burn this discontent. The business mogul-turned-auctioneer steps off the stage for another twenty-minute intermission and folks turn to one another for conversation. You sigh, simply satisfied that you’ve gotten what you came for.

You find yourself faintly puzzled by the boy with the green hair, and you're sure it's solely due to his age. Frankly, you've been the only one under thirty in the Top 100 Richest People since you achieved such a feat, and the fact that you haven't heard of him is...puzzling. But it doesn't matter. Clearly, he’s just another fellow looking to put another pretty thing in his foyer—you doubt he knows a thing about art, and definitely not an appreciation for it. You find solace in the fact that it's the new addition to your precious art collection instead, and will be owned and taken care of by someone who actually enjoys it.

“Good evening.”

You jump. Wrapped up in all of your inner turmoil (complemented by inner bragging, naturally) you fail to notice the greenette cross the expanse of the ballroom and make himself comfortable in the open seat next to you, despite your lack of approval.

“Hello,” you say, unsure of why he's here. He offers a hand to shake, Rolex glinting under the golden lighting.

“Izuku Midoriya,” he introduces, and you suppose shaking his hand won’t hurt.

“Your name?” He snorts, raising a cocky eyebrow. You scowl.

“Does it matter?”

“Not particularly.” Izuku rests his forearms on the table as his evergreen eyes rake your figure up and down. “But if you prefer to remain nameless, be my guest.”

“[Y/N].”

“Hmm?”

“My name,” you clarify. “It’s [Y/N].”

You’re not exactly sure what possessed you to tell him your name so easily. Maybe the fact that most already know who you are, and the fact that this man—this stranger—doesn’t know who you are, irks you a bit.

Okay. It irks you a lot.

“Well, Miss [Y/N],” Izuku tilts his head sideways. “I think that’s a very pretty name.”

Your body betrays you with a light gasp. Stupid thing.

“Well. I’m bored,” Izuku announces childishly, relaxing against the chair. “Lets go somewhere.”

You roll your eyes at his asserted dominance—in no way does he expect you to go with him, does he? You raise an eyebrow.

“No.”

Izuku clicks his tongue as if it were a buzzer, and more importantly, as if you were wrong. “Why?”

That has you scoffing. “I don’t know you.”

Izuku’s eyes flash with a challenge and it’s gone just as quickly. He leans forwards, crowding your personal space yet again.

“I told you my name, no?”

“You did,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest and straightening your back. You feel too small. “But I know nothing about you.“

“Well,” Izuku places an inquisitive finger on his lips, and it’s almost mocking, the way he takes a moment to think about it. “My name is Izuku Midoriya. I like...katsudon and hero movies. I’m here because I have too much time and money on my hands, and I’m, most importantly, bored.”

Your eyes narrow. “What do you do for a living?”

Izuku’s lip curls, and it’s downright sinister, “I'll tell you if you come with me."

You roll your eyes, and he takes both your hands in his. You don’t pull away, but you don’t reciprocate it either.

“Where?”

Izuku shrugs, “Wherever the wind takes us.”

Your stomach growls loudly, interrupting your fairly intimate conversation and dying your cheeks pink. Izuku raises an eyebrow.

“I heard they’re feeding us escargo for dinner.”

“Ugh,” you sigh, shoulder sagging. “Looks like I’m not eating, then.”

But there’s a glint in his eyes, and you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t one in your own. There's an ebb in the discourse, a beat, before Izuku's nodding towards the exit.

“Fast food?”

Wendy’s hits different during a Parisian midnight.

“—and so I had to be like: No Kacchan, you can’t hotwire his car to blow just because your food was, and I quote, lukewarm.”

You snicker behind a fist, digging your fancy heels into the grimy cement sidewalk, Wendy’s frostee in hand. Izuku hasn’t let go of your hand since you two left the fast-food joint, and for some reason, you haven’t pulled away.

"Violence seems to be a reoccurring theme with your friend," you say, laughing when Izuku nods in agreement, eyes stuck on the full moon hanging high in the air.

"You remind me of him, actually."

You raise an eyebrow, unable to see the correlation at all, "Because I'm a loud and angry and I like to blow things up."

"Or, because you're strong—independent. The type of woman to make men turn tail and run, you know?" Izuku turns to you with a lopsided grin.

You hum, averting your eyes to the moon. It's a stupid question, one that's all too loaded yet empty at the same time, and you hate that you hesitate to ask it.

"Why haven't you ran, then?"

"Easy." Izuku lets a smooth shrug roll off his shoulders, "I like strong women."

He continues to pull you to an undisclosed destination, the two of you stumbling through the heart of Paris with his suit jacket around your goosebump-ridden shoulders. People stare, but for the first time in forever, you find that you don't care much.

Finally, you two reach Izuku's "big reveal." You gaze at the magnificently lit french building in confusion, the golden under lights contrasting both of your beings against the navy blue sky.

"The Louvre?"

"Mhm," Izuku says, and he looks more than giddy. "Have you been?"

"Once," your voice is weary and you're sure he senses it, his grip tightening around your own. "For a fundraiser...but it's midnight Izuku, ho—"

But he's already tugging you to the right, dipping between columns and arches until you reach the back of the building. Izuku turns to you and whispers:

"Watch this."

It's hard to tell what he did exactly, especially with no light—it's just a bunch of jingles and ticks. Though, the moment you can't escape the sense that this is beyond sketchy, a lock clicks, and a door whines open.

"Hurry. And take your heels off," Izuku whispers, tilting his head towards the entrance. You hear the crunch of a leaf and see the beginning of a white flashlight curl around the building and fuck, this place has to be crawling with security guards, doesn't it?

"Don't tell me what to do," you grumble...as you take off your shoes. (Because you were going to do it anyway.) You enter and he closes the door behind the two of you, submerging you both in complete darkness.

"Security's only on the outside," Izuku grins. "They don't expect us to get inside, so as long as we're quiet, it should be fine."

"Until we have to get back out again," you say, huffing. Your heart pounds from the adrenaline because frankly, you've never been one for adventures, and breaking into a historical french museum is miles out of your comfort zone. "Seriously, did you think this through at all? What happens when we get caught?"

Izuku sighs, turning to you with a pout before grabbing your free hand again. "Women worry too much. C'mon—I wanna explore."

"You—let go, you misogynistic assho—"

You're cut off by a finger to your lips. Izuku bends down so he’s looking at you straight on, eyes dark as he sternly whispers, "Do you want us to get caught?"

It's not the prospect of getting caught that makes you falter, though—it's the way his stare pins you in place, voice swollen with that air of dominance you claim to hate. You have to tighten your grip on your heels to ensure they don't hit the ground.

"Now," Izuku‘s strangely childish manner returns, tugging your hand once your panicked whisper-yelling ceases, "Shall we?"

You roll your eyes, but your bare feet patter against the cold Louvre tile anyway. And you've got to say, the museum is much nicer when it isn't crawling with people.

"Mona Lisa's forehead is bigger than I thought," Izuku observes with a finger on his lip. He's on the wrong side of the railing, his nose close to kissing the glass protecting the piece. You snort, dropping your head to pinch the bridge. He turns to give you a weird look.

"What?"

"Nothing, just," you shake your head, the cool wood of the railing digging into your forearms. "Did you actually want that painting?"

Izuku frowns. "Which one?"

"El Bacio."

"Mm," the greenette hums as he thinks, blinking to the corner of the room."I suppose. You seemed like you wanted it more, though."

You roll your eyes, "So you cap at eighty million?"

Izuku shrugs, hopping the railing. Seems like he's finally done insulting poor Lisa, "I capped when you started to sweat."

You huff, but stomping instead of walking isn't so intimidating when you're barefoot. "I wasn't sweating."

You see a hidden smirk on Izuku's face once you catch up to him, and it's frustrating and insulting, to say the least. Both of you proceed down a hall of statues. "You're much easier to read than you think, Miss [Y/N]."

"And you're not as perceptive as you think, Mister Midoriya."

Izuku chuckles at that, shaking his head. "Well played, Miss [Y/N]. Well played."

You're not sure why your chest swells, but it does, and it takes both you and your limited lung capacity off guard. But you don't have much time to sort it out—Izuku's grabbing your hand again, and redirecting your attention to the last statue in the hall. You recognize it and frown.

“Cupid and Psyche?”

The silver moonlight pours in through the window, spilling down Cupid’s tipped wings and the softest points of the Psyche’s curves. Izuku hums in confirmation, hands sliding to encompass your hips as his chin hooks on your shoulder.

"Well done, Miss [Y/N]."

His voice deepens—it's coarse and heady, and gets your blood rushing in a way breaking and entering never could have.

"Amore e Psiche, Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss. Antonio Canova, 1793."

You fail to understand why this statue stood out to him compared to all the others, but the circles Izuku’s thumb presses into your hips signifies that you’ll find out soon.

"Cupid represents desire, and Psyche, the human soul," Izuku says, running his hands up your sides. "Together, they make the perfect union."

Dipping his nose into your neck, Izuku inhales, and the hands around your waist tighten, if the smallest bit. "Psyche was the prettiest woman in the world; so pretty she rivaled Venus' beauty with her own. It didn't matter if it broke rules—Cupid knew he had to have her."

The gentle nudge of a neck evolves into a set of butterfly kisses, tracing the column of your neck until his mouth reaches your ear. A hand slides to gently cup your breast, and the other to your thigh.

"Miss [Y/N], when I saw you this evening, in that ballgown, I knew I just had to have you. But I can't be a gentleman for much longer, as much as I'd like to." Izuku groans into your neck, hips gently grinding forwards. "So, it's up to you what we do next—I could drop you off at your home to probably never see you again, or...”

Izuku shifts, and you can feel his hardening cock against your back. “I can bend you over right here. Your choice.”

You hesitate, determined to think this through—but Izuku's wandering hands and rutting hips prove to be too much of a distraction.

"Fine," is all you say, before whirling around, grabbing the greenette by his dress shirt, and slamming your lips onto his.

Izuku kisses back with a grin—like he knew you were going to say yes—and places his hands around your waist yet again, backing you up against the marble statue.

"Sit on the platform," he breathes into your mouth. You frown.

"Like, the platform to the statue? Caus—"

"Yes on the statue, now sit," Izuku demands, but he doesn't give you much room to protest, forcing you onto the marble platform. Hiking your dress to your waist, Izuku's calloused palms slide up your inner thighs, spreading them apart to make room for himself in between. He pauses.

"No panties?"

You flush red—from the exposure or the comment, you aren't sure—but you huff in defiance nevertheless, determined to stand your ground and keep some of your dignity. (Though you're positive Izuku can feel you shaking already.)

"I'm wearing a dress," you defend weakly.

Izuku hums behind a bitten lip, lying a heavy thumb on your clit. It's enough pressure to make your thighs tense but not much else, until it flicks downwards.

"I wanna taste you," Izuku growls with dilated pupils once he finally tears his gaze from your exposed body. "Can I?"

Heat surges through your veins, and you let him pry your thighs apart as you respond with an unsteady, "Yeah—yeah, that's fine."

Izuku's chest rumbles with a growl as he closes in on your pussy, hands gripping underneath your thighs. You whimper when he trails butterfly kisses down your inner legs, the grip you have around the skirt of your dress tightening.

"So pretty," Izuku groans, chuckling when you shiver as he flattens his tongue against your slit, "My Goddess."

With that he dives in, almost sending you toppling with the force. The moonlight dyes his green locks a navy blue, and you can't resist seizing them into a fist when he pushes a finger in.

"Feel good, Gorgeous?" Izuku says with a knowing smirk on his sinfully glossed lips. Another digit enters and it has your toes curling as you nod. “Shit, you’re tight.”

Izuku spits on your pussy and it’s downright dirty, before looks at you under forest green eyelashes, the other hand finally letting go of your thigh in favor for pulling at the top of your dress.

“Izuku, wha—“

“I wanna see your tits,” he huffs. You’d laugh at his enthusiasm if you weren’t so aroused, and you find your hands joining in the flurry. The moment they’re free, Izuku’s mouth latches onto your breast in an instant.

“F-Fuck, ‘Zuku—“

“You sound so good when you moan my name, sweetheart,” Izuku groans, and you jolt as he tweaks a bud.

“Say it again.”

He pinches your nipple and clit at the same time, and it has your legs kicking as you squeal his name again.

The Izuku growls and it's nothing but feral, and another yelp of his name has him pulling you to your feet to the point where your noses almost touch. Aggravated from being so close before the greenette ripped his fingers away has you scowling.

"Wha—"

"Can I fuck you?" His breath ghosts your lips. You hide your shock by a roll of your eyes.

"Do you always ask stupid questions?"

Izuku hums in contemplation before grabbing you harshly by the jaw, to the point where your cheeks squish into your eyes and your lips pucker. "Say it, Bunny."

"I just sa—"

"Say 'I want you to fuck me, Izuku,'" he says with a cruel snarl. "’Hard.’"

Your eyes dart from his heavy gaze to the statue, and you can't help but feel more fragile than glass. "I litera—"

"Say it, brat."

"I—" you try but nothing comes out, and you blame that darkened stare of his, "I w-want you to fuck me. Izuku."

Izuku inhales sharply, the fingers cradling your face tightening before he speaks again.

"Good girl."

He spins you so your hands lay on the statue's base, yanking your hips back and flipping your dress so your bare ass is exposed to the cool air.

Izuku's palms caress your behind, kneading both globes before he pulls you against his bare cock. (When he took off his pants is beyond you.) He slaps his cock against your clit until you huff in frustration, turning around to shoot him an angry glare.

"Today, Izuku."

The greenette blinks out of his absorbed gaze on your behind in favor of glowering you down. You waver under his glare despite your best efforts.

His cock kisses your entrance and then all of it is in you at once, and his size is enough to make your inner thighs ache from the stretch. You bite your lip in an attempt to muffle a moan, but that crashes and burns fairly quickly.

"O-Oh shi—"

"You said today, didn't you?" Izuku rasps, before pulling out and stuffing you full at a quick and steady pace. Your hands scramble for proper purchase against the statue—without breaking it, for gods sake—but the harder he fucks you into it, the harder it is to stay upright. "Quiet, baby. We're not supposed to be here, remember?"

You nod frantically, teeth digging into your bottom lip. The thought of getting caught, you, of all people, while being railed against a marble statue—

Izuku moans in your ear, a hand moving between your thighs to rub at your clit. "Oh, you tightened when I said that—you like the idea of getting caught, Bunny?"

You respond with a choked moan, thighs quivering with an impending orgasm. Izuku groans as you tighten around him again, but they quickly turn into shushes.

"Bu—"

"I-I know," your voice cracks and it's absolutely pathetic. "But I can't—"

Izuku's hand wraps around your mouth to the point where his fingertips just barely brush your ears. You whine, eyes fluttering as the new grip adjusts the angle ever so slightly, and pushes him so much deeper.

"You're gonna kill me," Izuku says, wheezing out a laugh. "I—fuck Bunny, I'm close."

You whimper behind his hand and nod as if to say me too, and you're sure Izuku understands from the way he groans before he speeds up in all aspects. "Good. G-Good—cum for me baby, I know you can—"

Your toes curl into the marble floor as the coil in your gut snaps, knocking the wind out of you and sending you thrashing in Izuku's arms. You hear the greenette curse and shudder behind you, stuttering hips slowing to an eventual stop. Both of you stand there for a moment, comfortable interrupting the silence with nothing but your heaving breaths.

"You okay?"

You chuckle. It's dry and scratchy, and your lip throbs from biting it so hard, but it isn’t...aggravating, per-se. "You sound worse than me."

Izuku laughs at that, though it waters down as he pulls out with a hiss. "I don't think worse is the correct adjective here, Miss [Y/N].”

You snort. Back to “Miss [Y/N]” it is, then.

Your ears catch the distinct wail of ever-increasing sirens, but you don't think much of it until the side of Izuku's face starts flashing blue and red. Both you and the greenette falter, sharing a look.

"Police! Hands in the air!"

i wrote this while watching a hysterectomy in physio aah (also yes, the french police speak in english leave me alone skjdhfgk) — sun

#— 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔 #izuku midoriya #deku x reader #deku smut #izuku smut #midoriya smut #bnha smut #mha smut

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dumbbitchdoestwitch · 2 years ago

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Cum for the monster, stay for the plot

I read monster fucker books - they're fun, they're interesting and usually, they're pretty hot. & It seems like a perfect first Tumblr post. Now I made it through Opal Reyne's A Soul to Keep and A Soul to Heal in under a week. I didn't mean to - I planned on reading them over a month or two to give myself a break from all the steam but I didn't do that. I stayed up late, reading it like a rabid horny little monster fucker, and then wandered through my day job a zombie hungry for more monster cock. All that to say - forgive me if I get bits and bobs from the 2 mixed up. Anyhow - spoilers & monster cock ahead so proceed with caution~

I tried writing this before and it got way too fucking long, so I'm going to try to keep it short. We'll start with the first book - A Soul to Keep. The first chunk of the book is massively background-heavy, but I actually like that. I love some plot & direction with my monster fucking but it is A Lot™️. If you like a book to get down and dirty fast, this one's not for you. This one is a heck of a slow burn and the first taste of the naughty you get is hot, magic baths. It takes much longer to get to our monster friend digging his claws into our female lead and magically rearranging her guts so that enormous monster cock actually fits.

Background-wise, the bare bones are that it's a strange, alternate reality where demons arrived on Earth through a portal sometime around the industrial revolution. The demons prevented humanity from progressing as it should have, so we have a weird mix of modern language in an almost hunter-gatherer time. Also important to note, the portal the demons came through is at the heart of the Veil, a pit in the woods that gives demons a place to lurk away from the sun. On to our characters...

So we have Reia whose family was murdered by demons & then the town labeled Reia a bad omen & ostracized her from her fellow townspeople (but like not really 'cause throwing her out of the town would let the demons eat her and get stronger so there's a lot of "we're afraid of you, don't dare look at us, but we're also gonna torment you a bit"). Anyway, having a young woman who you hate actually works out perfectly for this town because, as it turns out, once every 10 years a creature the humans call a Duskwalker comes to one of 3 villages and bestows a protective blessing in exchange for a "pure bride" (not like that tho).

Our Duskwalker goes by Orpheus and he's like 7ft tall with a wolf skull for a face, nothing but glow sticks behind it, and has exposed bones where his skin and fur haven't grown over them. As Orpheus brings Reia to his cabin in the Veil, a few things become apparent:

1) we're going to have to deal with a bit of secondhand embarrassment

2) Orpheus is a lonely pervert

Those two things can go either way depending on how you like your monsters. I didn't think I'd be able to get through the secondhand embarrassment, but Orpheus is such a giant cinnamon roll that I barely noticed it. It also really helps that anytime I had a concern about how stuff works, it got addressed a few lines down. It's just really well thought out like that.

As for the sex scenes, they felt kind of confusing at times because we're learning anatomy while we're going at it. Other than that though, the sheer passion and desire running rampant is delicious. So if you like well-built worlds with squishy cinnamon roll monsters (who really look like monsters and stay that way) with absolutely enormous cocks, I'd highly recommend A Soul to Keep.

Maybe some day I'll post the long as hell version of this with every little thought but today is not that day 💜

#opal reyne #a soul to keep #monster fucker review

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lepusrufus · 3 years ago

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Double edged scalpel ch.10

Ch1 ch2 ch3 ch4 ch5 ch6 ch7 ch8 ch9

Summary: scary moms are scary

---

Nicole stilled.

Moms.

Well this just got a million times worse.

Surprisingly enough, Nicole could count on her fingers the times she had crossed paths with either of the Ladies. Lady Dimitrescu was often busy and not bothering with the staff. Most things that needed communicated went through the Steward. Mistress Esteria was, as some would call her, a ghost. She preferred her solitude or time with family so it wasn't unheard of for new staff members to take months before they even see her around the castle. Paired with Nicole's job that had her in the dungeons almost all the time, she never got an actual introduction to either of them.

Not that she complained. It didn't take a genius to realize that both women were to be feared.

I think I'd like to bleed out now.

"What about?" Her voice was barely audible, due to fear or pain was anyone's guess.

"... I don't know." Cassandra's quiet voice mimicked her own.

"Should I assume it is about your um… choice of partners?"

The realization that, to anyone outside Cassandra, she was little more than a maid turned butcher hit Nicole almost as much as the bullet that until not long ago was wedged into her flesh. Would they forbid Cassandra from seeing her? Or perhaps decide that Nicole has committed an unspeakable offense to their family and punish her? She gulped and Cassandra's reply wasn't of much help either.

"I don't know," she repeated.

Nicole sighed, a slow drawn out exhale, all too aware of the pain it would cause otherwise. "When?"

"Soon. They told me to let them know when you wake up."

Nicole just nodded and laid back into the cushions. May as well be comfortable before facing death. But Cassandra didn't move. Instead, she interlocked their fingers and brought Nicole's hand to her lips, leaving a kiss on bony knuckles. They stayed like that, silently, for a full minute before Cassandra got up and, with a be right back, exited the room.

Left alone, Nicole looked down at herself once more. To say she looked awful was an understatement. Definitely not going to rely on appearance to make a good impression. The painkiller was also yet to do its job and any movement still shot jolts of pain through her body. Wonderful.

It wasn't long before the door opened again and Cassandra came in followed by Lady Dimitrescu, her trademark hat making her look even taller and more intimidating than she already was. Immediately behind, Mistress Esteria took light steps, her long white hair flowing behind her like a silky mantle.

They looked so in contrast with each other, and it went beyond the almost opposite color schemes. While the Lady had the expression of a mother about to scold her child for carelessly running up the stairs and scraping a knee, the Mistress looked about to take out the bandaids. Her eyes, blue and gray, looked at her with something akin to kindness.

"What's your name dear?"

God her voice sounded like rivers deep in the forest. Flowing and ancient and just as powerful as she probably was.

"Nicole," she gulped.

The Mistress came to a stop right by the bed, tall frame bending down and grabbing Nicole's chin between two fingers. She moved her head from one side to the other and hummed.

"My my, what a pretty face. You've always had quite the taste in women, love." She looked at Cassandra who only nodded stiffly.

Then, she was up again and moving towards the other matriarch, who by now was sitting in an armchair. The Mistress leaned on the armrest, opting to ignore the many other places to sit and Nicole had to wonder for a moment if they were the clingy type. What an oddly human trait.

A long drag of a cigarette was drawn out before golden eyes finally fell on Nicole and the Lady spoke.

"I was actually surprised to learn about how… deeply Cassandra cares about you. To actually come to me and ask for help saving your life." She narrowed her eyes slightly, just enough for it to be a clear warning. "I sure hope such kindness was not wasted on you."

Sensing where this conversation was going, Nicole groaned internally. Of all things, she would rather not have the break my daughter's heart and I'll break your legs conversation with Cassandra's mothers while a damn hole in her abdomen was still sending waves of pain through her body if she didn't move just right. In her defense, the painkiller was yet to kick in and there's only so much holding her tongue she can do while in pain.

"With all due respect my Ladies, I'd rather throw myself off the highest tower in this castle than pretend to love Cassandra. Have you met her."

That got a snort from the brunette, who quickly masked it with a cough. The Mistress however laughed. A melodic laugh that, in another situation, would be the most soothing thing.

"Oh dear. While the reassurance is appreciated, we do trust Cassandra's judgement."

"For the most part," Lady Dimitrescu added, eyes still narrowed.

"And we would love to have you for dinner soon," the Mistress went on, ignoring the small glare from her wife.

Another drag of the cigarette. "Well anyways. We didn't come here for a welcoming party. We'd like to make you a proposal."

Judging by Cassandra's furrowed brows, she probably knew as little about this as Nicole did. A proposal from Lady Dimitrescu could either be wonderful news or a death sentence. She couldn't help a gulp when the Lady continued.

"Contrary to popular belief, I do care about my staff. At least those who prove themselves useful." The cigarette was finally done and now Nicole had the luck of having her full attention. "And, as you may have guessed, medical training is not particularly common around here. I do happen to want a castle physician, a position that could be filled by someone skilled that also has a good reason to do a good job and be loyal to my family."

Wait what-

Nicole blinked in confusion, an expression mimicked by Cassandra. Did she mean…?

Lady Dimitrescu raised an eyebrow. "Do you accept?"

"Y- yes." The words spilled from her mouth without a second thought. And why would she have second thoughts after all?

Lady Dimitrescu watched her for a long moment. Then, when she seemed pleased with her findings, she rose to her feet.

"Very well. We will discuss the technicalities once you're in a better state. Now try not to bleed out before you even start your job. And," she sighed, "you are expected at dinner as soon as you're able to join us."

The last part caused her wife's lips to turn into a warm smile. The Lady simply turned around and ducked out of the room while Mistress Esteria lingered by Cassandra. She whispered something only the brunette could hear and then leaned in to kiss her forehead. The Mistress had a couple inches on Cassandra, which meant she was towering over Nicole. Then, with a smile in her direction, she too was out of the room, leaving only the two of them to stare at the door in disbelief.

"Well that went… well."

"Oh for the love of Mother Miranda," Cassandra sighed in relief, hands running through her hair.

Her shoulders lost their tension when she came to sit by Nicole's side, a smile now present on thin black lips.

"Your mothers seem… lovely women."

"Shut up you were scared shitless."

There goes Nicole's attempt at being polite. Not that Cassandra was wrong by all means, but part of her wanted to be on good terms with her lover's family. Maybe it was simply due to her relationship with the brunette, maybe it was due to how her own family never seemed to care much for each other. Not the way the Dimitrescus did, despite how they were seen as monsters by most outside eyes. She didn't let herself dwell on it, instead she took one of Cassandra's hands and started to play with slender fingers.

"Are you hungry? I can ask Cynthia to fix something for you."

Nicole smiled at the effort to make her feel better. She would never get tired of seeing Cassandra's caring and gentle side, especially when she knew how ruthless she could be otherwise.

"In a bit. I'm waiting for the painkiller to fully kick in so I can actually sit up."

Cassandra nodded and looked to the side, seemingly lost in some kind of thought. Nicole wanted to ask what got the brunette pensive all of a sudden, but before she could, golden eyes snapped back to her.

"Also. Don't you dare jump in front of a bullet for me ever again. It wouldn't have hurt me anywhere near as much as it hurt you."

There was a subtle growl in her voice that would have scared any other person. But Nicole recognized how the anger was just veiled worry at how much worse their situation could’ve gotten.

"Sorry. I just saw him with the gun and panicked." There was a reason she didn't pursue her father's idea of becoming a surgeon after all, and pissing him off was only part of it. "And I'm glad you didn't get hurt at all."

Cassandra narrowed her eyes, but her expression quickly softened. The big bad sadist couldn’t stay mad at her lover and Nicole almost teased her about it, but a gloved hand slowly caressing her cheek stopped her.

“I’m just happy you’re alive.”

#cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #unhinged maiden™ my beloved #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x maiden #fanfic #double edged scalpel

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sweetuality · 3 years ago

Text

EPILOGUE (pt. 2)

SIMON

Lady Ruth has practically dragged us inside and into our room, "Simon! Baz! Get comfortable and settle in. I'll be downstairs making you boys some snacks."

She patted my arm, "We can all watch Mr. Bean later. Oh! Jamie loves it. He'll be back from work in an hour."

If she could, she would have hopped her way out, but I think her age can't keep up with her energized personality.

She has been like this ever since she believes that her family got reunited. Happy-go-lucky aura seeps out of her like my magic used to from my body. Like sparks from the skin pores.

I think it's something in our family after all.

I always feel like an outsider inside this house. The walls, the furniture, the rug on the floor are too expensive for me to feel a part of it. But Baz seems like he was born here.

He's wearing a three pieces suit (again) today. A shade of grey that gleams silver in the light and a black button-down with the collar buttons open. His shirt color matches his hair and he looks like he's one of the antiques decorated in this room.

He made sure I don't feel left out in his fashion ramp-walk show and dressed me up in his light blue jumper and white trousers with white lace-up shoes. He cast "Like a glove!" on the jumper and now my red wings stand out quite a contract to the rest of my (his) clothes.

"Do you think Lady Salisbury knows who I am actually?" Baz walks over to me and wraps his arms around my waist.

I place my own hands on his shoulder. "You mean vampire? No. I don't think so." I don't think Lady Ruth would care though. All she cares about is how much of a gentleman Baz is.

"I meant your boyfriend." He narrows his eyes as if it's my fault he has so many secrets and I should be knowing which of them he is referring to.

I lean in to rub my nose on his cheeks. Smells of cold water. "Maybe? Maybe not?"

"Snow, will you tell her if she ever asks?" He has my tail in his hand, rubbing it between his fingers.

Will I? Probably.

Baz is kind of an award for me. A medal. A treasure. Being with him is good for my status. If I could I would have flaunted him to the entire world.

"I will, babe." I kiss him because I'm a fool and I can't resist him.

SIMON

Baz and Lady Ruth- she wants me to call her "Gran" but I'm still hesitant (maybe one day I will. I just need some time to get used to all this. To believe all this is true.) are still at the living room watching Mr. Bean and I'm at kitchen trying to find a can of cider. Jamie hasn't yet come back home from work, we saved him some egg and cress.

My phone rang in the back of my pocket. (Jamie has gifted me this new phone on my birthday. I'm so not used to this. I miss my old phone, it was fine for me. Just needed to replace the battery.)

"Penny?" I answered the phone.

"Simon Snow Salisbury! Do you even have time for me?" Her voice was half sarcasm and full anger.

Ever since she started dating Shepard, Penny and I have had less time for each other. Is this what people do? Outgrow their friendships?

She went to America with him without telling anybody. I was so mad at her. But then she got mad at me for not telling her about my family. And then we kind of nullified each other's anger.

Shepherd moved in with Penny and now he's a part-time journalist. I think he got enrolled in Penny's uni too but I'm not sure. Professor Bunce loves him and Headmistress Bunce hates him as much. And between all chaos Penny, herself hardly has any time left to catch up with me. I wanted to tell her that, but I don't want to get shouted at.

"I have all the time for you Penny. What's up?" I grab the cider can and walk out of the kitchen. I see Baz looking at me when I walk into the living room and I point him I'll be at our room.

"I was hoping we all could meet. I called Agatha too. She's busy with Niamh and doesn't wanna leave the goats alone. I guess she'll spend her Christmas with her girlfriend. But you two! I'll murder you two if you don't come."

Agatha and Niamh are the talks of the mages now. They both are taking care of the goats and a lot of people think that's what restored the peace at Watford.

Baz can't stop laughing at the irony of how Agatha and I had different preferences.

I took the stairs and walked inside our room, closing the doors behind. The room was dark, with only outside street light coming through the window to illuminate the room faintly.

"Just tell us when and where and we'll come."

I sat on the bed, taking a sip of the cider.

"Tomorrow, at my house. Shep is also going. Dad says he wants to chit-chat with him. Mum is at school so it isn't a worry. Did you know the veil lifted and my aunt visited her again to tell her not to look for her books? I think my mum will look for the books just to provoke her. Circe, I've got so much to tell you. Let's all meet! I've also got something important to announce."

"Don't tell me you're pregnant Penny!" I say, only half-joking. Penny's parents already had her when they were her age. So who knows?

"No, Merlin!" She screams so loud I had to pull away the phone to save my ears. I could hear the distant giggling of Shepard. "Just come tomorrow by the evening okay? You'll find out."

"Sure, Penny." She ends the call and I laugh. I'm happy for her. She found someone who looks at her like she's made of magic. Which is true either way.

I place the cider on the bedside table and plops on the bed. The room makes me feel like an outsider. But it also feels like it's welcoming me. A part of me feels like it missed being here all this time. Sometimes it actually feels like I belong here. Maybe I do.

I close my eyes, feeling sleepy.

Suddenly it's so cold. I shiver, bringing my wings around me to stay warm but it feels like the cold breeze is inside me. Like my blood is freezing up. My wings envelopes me tightly as a response but it feels more claustrophobic than comforting. Turning around in bed I feel my tail whipping around too. It gets so much cold so suddenly that I feel like I'm having all my nerves in my body breakdown. It's hard to open my eyes too. My lips quiver. I can't speak. I'm freezing. I'm solidifying.

"My rosebud boy." The voice echoes within me.

Rosebud boy? Natasha Grimm Pitch?

"My rosebud boy," The voice is crying, "I'm happy you're finally home."

I can't breathe. I can't open my eyes. I'm crying.

"I'm happy you're safe." I can feel the voice. It resonates within me. I had heard it before. "Simon..."

I open my eyes, tears involuntarily rolling down my cheeks. My whole body is frozen solid. And then I see her.

Golden hair and a face I recognize. Lucy. Mom?

Her hands are stretched out to touch my face but I really can't see her hand. It's like she's a streak of light. And within the light, I could hardly see the features of her face that looks so much like mine.

"We were so happy to have you, Simon. You make me so proud." She's not speaking, but I can hear her voice inside my head. My head thumps with each word. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry I left you."

She's vanishing. The light is fading. I want to call out. Mom!

"I love you so much," She's leaving. No! "my rosebud boy..."

"Mom!" I found my voice hoarse and scratching down my throat harshly. I think I saw her smiling sadly before the room is back in its darkness. The coldness fades away as abruptly as it came.

But I can't stop shaking. My wings are flapping violently behind me and I'm sure I'll knock something over with my tail. I sit up, curling my knees to my chest to calm down. Mom... Lucy... She had visited me before. She came back...

#simon snow #snowbaz #basilton pitch #fanfic #carry on #wayward son #awtwb spoilers #any way the wind blows #rainbow rowell

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liron-ao3 · 4 years ago

Text

But of course.

Dean runs a hand over his face, completely exhausted. He's so tired. It's nothing unusual. He never sleeps enough. But this again?

Damn it!

Where is the angel!? It's a question he has asked a thousand times, never getting an answer. Just once and then he had found him, pulled him against his chest, smiled from ear to ear, huffed in relief as he felt Castiel's rigid body in his embrace.

He had managed to ignore that Cass didn't hug back. He didn't want to think about what it meant. He didn't want to question his own motives, either. Sure, Castiel was his friend. Dean is a loyal person. But more than once, Benny had asked him, "Why?" If the angel was really worth the hassle. He had never found an answer other than a disgruntled, "Yeah."

Dean pushes up from the empty bed, pulls a shirt over his bare chest and pitter-patters barefooted over the bunker's cold floor. He'd like to call for his boyfriend, but that would wake Sammy and with him likely Eileen. She's seven months pregnant and struggles enough to get sleep with her restless legs and heartburn.

It's the fifth night in a row that Dean woke up to an empty bed. The former angel suffers from insomnia that even tops Dean's worst phases. Every night, Dean prays that his love might find rest in his arms. He's not sure who he is praying to. Jack? Maybe. Anyway, his son isn't listening. Hand's off.

Dean shuffles through the common places where Castiel usually tries to kill time - the kitchen, the library, the main room. Once, he even found him in the storage room where the Empty had taken him, standing at the exact spot where he had smiled while Dean's heart shattered into pieces. But he hadn't smiled then.

He hasn't smiled a lot since he's back. Not even when Dean had told him that he loved him, too. Not when they first kissed. Not when they first made love. He assured him that he wanted it, wanted him. And Dean decided to believe him. It would become better with time, he hoped.

To each of the few smiles that Castiel mustered, there is melancholy. No. This word isn't strong enough. There's something as heavy a lead pressing the former angel down, tinting every good emotion grey.

Dean hates it, can't shake the feeling that it's his fault. He thought he did the right thing, fighting him out of the Empty. But all he had gotten were tired eyes and a "You shouldn't have done that."

It had made Castiel so happy when he told Dean that he loved him that it was enough to summon the Empty. But now that he has him, nothing really seems to pierce the veil of darkness. It's so much worse than the worrisome, honey-collecting version of Cass all those years back. At least, he had smiled then.

It's superficial and stupid to wish for this, Dean knows that. It was just another way for Castiel to cope. He always carries all the world's burdens on his shoulder, especially Dean's crap. But it's not fair!

Dean never expected an apple pie life. Not really. But with Cass, he had hoped for a slim slice of it. At this point, he'd be thankful for a crumb.

He scolds himself inwardly for this train of thought. He's ungrateful. He falls asleep with his man snuggled against him every night. He looks in blue eyes when they make love. He holds his hand when they watch a movie. It's so much. More than he ever dared to dreamt of.

Dean's steps grow wider and faster as he nears his Cave. Maybe—yes! There are flickering lights under the door and subdued music coming from the room. Dean takes a deep breath before he pushes the door handle down.

Castiel sits in the armchair that is labelled his boyfriend's in Dean's head. He looks at the tv screen, his eyes fixed on a bumblebee collecting nectar.

Dean chuckles softly, calling attention to himself, hoping not to startle Castiel. He doesn't. His partner doesn't even so much as flinches.

"Bumblebees are funny. By all rules of aerodynamics, they shouldn't be able to fly," Dean says, hoping to pull his boyfriend's gaze to himself.

"That's not true Dean. Humans were just too fixated on their formulas for aeroplanes to see the dynamics behind the wingbeats, the vortex they produce, not to mention the joint I added to make it possible for them to kink the wings and heighten the weight they can move even further.

Dean sinks into his armchair. "You worked on creating them?" Castiel hums in affirmation. "Why are you watching a documentation then? You know them better than anyone."

Castiel is silent for a long moment and Dean wonders if he somehow insulted him. But then, there's a sound that he hasn't heard way too long and it makes his heart clench.

A chuckle.

Not as free and loud as he knows it can be, but it's there, echoing in the sparsely decorated room.

"It reminds me that my existence had meaning."

The short burst of hope crumbles to dust at these words. Dean fights against the tears brimming his eyes. Castiel saved the world, more than once, and especially with his self-sacrifice. They wouldn’t have defeated Chuck without him!

"Your life has meaning," Dean says, his voice carefully schooled. Castiel chuckles again, bit tjis time without mirth.

"I know."

It feels rehearsed, like an automatic reply to soothe Dean's nerves. No. This won't do! Dean gets up and down on his knee in front of the man he loves. He cups his cheeks with both hands, relishing that Castiel leans into the touch.

"You are important. To me, to Sam and Eileen, to Claire and Kaia, and so many more. We need you, man."

"You'd be well off with or without me," Castiel answers evenly and Dean covers the pain with anger, lets it build up in the very familiar way. He clenches his jaw and lets go of this boyfriend's face, gets up, turns, and kicks a pile of DVDs through the room.

Then he turns back, outstretched pointer hovering mere centimetres from Castiel's face.

"You have no idea!" The force of Dean's words makes Cass pull back - not in fear but in gut-wrenching surprise. "I burnt you on that pyre, spread your ashes in the meadow. I got you back just to let Chuck let us screw over once again. I'm not proud to say this, but with you gone, I thought of flipping the bird to this shit of a life and go down in a damn vampire nest or something."

"Your life is not shit!" Castiel counters, always willing to make Dean feel and think better of himself. Hell, he did it even when he thought he would die for good.

"Yes, you're right. But still—" Dean runs a hand through his hair. His brain isn't awake enough for the depth of discussion they need to have and neither is Castiel's judging by the looks of his lover's red-rimmed eyes. He takes a deep breath. "You are my home, Cass. My rock. I don't say this to make you stay or to make you put on a brave face. I appreciate that you're not acting as if everything is fine. But we need to talk about what's going on in your mind. What makes you so sad all the time. I can't—"

Castiel looks at him with unhidden fear. Hell! The man fought demons and angels, God himself. He shouldn't look like that because of a hunter who feels so many things that he can never properly put them into words.

"I can't ignore it any longer. You need help. Hell, we all need therapy. But, damn it, Cass! I want us to be happy. I want you to be happy. And don't tell me you are. You're a terrible liar."

There is another chuckle and Dean wants to cry. Because it's all too much and not enough. He can't make his boyfriend better and that sucks big time. He's a doer, a carer, a damn Acts of Service love languager. He's shitty at gifts that his man understands, he's bad with words when it counts. But he can touch, is allowed to touch now. So he does.

He pulls Cass into his arms, feels him melt against him. He brushes his hand through the unruly mop of hair. "Come to bed. Sleep. Tomorrow, we'll take care of this, okay?"

He feels Castiel's head nod against his shoulder. He presses a kiss into his hair and pulls back, scrutinising him for a long moment. There is the ghost of a tired smile on his lips. Dean counts it as a win.

He switches off the tv and leads him to their bedroom, tucks him in before he slides under the covers, and pulls him close. "I am here. And I am happy that you are here. Never doubt that," Dean murmurs. "You're the best thing ever happening to me."

"But I'm broken, Dean. I can't be of any use to you, now that I lost the rest of my grace."

Dean huffs his anger out through his nose. "If you're broken, we'll find a way to fix you. And the other bullshit—don't you dare think that's what we kept you around for. You're family. Like a brother to Sammy, a father for Claire, the man I love. Don't get pissed, but your love has always been your strongest asset. You saved me from me a million times. Hell, just think of Jack." He takes a deep breath because his anger won't solve anything. "You are love and you are loved. You don't need to be useful and still, you are. Every. Single. Second."

Castiel looks at him with glassy eyes. "I want to believe you."

Dean presses a kiss on his forehead. "I know." He brushes a strand of hair out of Castiel's eyes. "Just promise me you'll try."

"I will," Cass whispers and then he smiles. Tired, but enough to form crinkles around his eyes. And it's just a start. Dean knows that. But it's enough for now.

"Sweet dreams, honey," Dean whispers and cradles Cass' head to his neck. "I'll watch over you."

#dean winchester #castiel #deancas #destiel #fanfiction #deancas fanfiction #deancas fanfic #destiel fanfiction #destiel fanfic #deancas oneshot #destiel oneshot #depression

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mcyt-amber-tftsmp · 4 years ago

Text

𝐈 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐢𝐦 {𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫}

Request?: -R4NBUTLER

Character: Ranbutler (We'll call him Mark for the sake of the story)

Side Character(s): Niki Nihachu, R/B/N (Random Boy's Name) and his family

Story-type: Angsty Romance

Story Length: 1684 words

AU or Not: AU since Sir Billiam and the Egg do not exist!

Time Period: Medieval Time!

Plot Summary: im thinking of ranbutler falling for his mistress and then needing to watch her marry someone :"D so like he needs to be there while she talks about how amazing her crush is, seeing her date the other guy, and even be there at the wedding :"D basically time skips of his heart breaking over seeing her being in love with the other guy :]

Small Info: i want it to end like angsty so y/n actually end up marrying the other guy and ranbutler needs to serve at y/n's and her husband family :"D nothing else tbh! Also both Ranbutler, Y/N and R/B/N are the same age and adults like 18/19! Also this will be written under only Ranbutler's POV!

Keywords:

Y/N = Your Name

Trigger Warning: None

Normal Warning: Cringe alert! Also most likely to be shorter than other chapters so please don't attack me on that!

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Ranbutler/Mark's Point Of View~

I watch from the end of the hall as my Mistress was talking to the other maids. I will be honest when I say I have fallen for her the first time I met her and was given to her as her butler but of course she never saw me as a butler but a good friend.

The word 'friend' kind of hurts since I have feelings for her but I knew she had liked someone else. I mean it's understandable like who would want someone like me? I am just a mere Butler who is supposed to serve their Masters and Mistresses.

((Author: I mean I would want you! -w-))

I would mostly see her go outside to meet up with her crush. If I remember correctly I think his name is R/B/N. I will be honest, he is a nice guy as my Mistress, Y/N would say. She would mostly talk to me about him whenever she gets the chance to talk to me.

Whenever she talks to me about him I always keep a straight face and not show the fact that I feel heartbroken knowing she doesn't like me the way I do. I would encourage her to confess her feelings to him. I know I shouldn't be doing this but why do I do it? Because I am a good friend and I don't want to lose the friendship I have with her.

Either way, what's the point in telling her my feelings when I know it won't be returned. I tried to lose the feelings yet they never go away and my feelings for her grows. But it's hopeless right now for me to even do anything about it.

I am right now just hoping for the best for myself.

Two days later~

It's been two days and my Mistress had confessed to her crush who had accepted her to be his girlfriend. My heart broke by the news yet I stayed happy for her and put on a mask over my face by smiling and not showing my pain.

I congratulated her and she hugged me and thanked me for encouraging her. I don't really regret encouraging her cause I am a good person and friend to her yet it still hurt way more than I thought it would.

After this I went towards the empty hallway as I leaned against a wall as I felt tears falling down from my eyes and down my face. It was very pathetic of me to cry but what else can you do to deal with heartbreak? Nothing but cry.

It hurt so much that I was sobbing. At this point I was glad no one was here to see me cry especially Y/N. I don't want her to blame herself for my heartbreak nor do I want anyone to be concerned about me.

I wasn't paying attention but I heard footsteps and slowly looked to see it was just my older sister Niki who was the personal maid of Y/N. When she saw my tear stained face, she ran over and hugged me.

She knew about my feelings for our Mistress and always supported me and knew why I was upset and crying. She comforted me as best as she could. But it hurt. I guess I fell too hard for her. There are times I wish I didn't yet I did and I don't blame her.

I could here Niki telling me things will be getting better and I will be able to get over her. I hoped for things to get better and I get over her but how can one get over someone they love so easily? The answer is that it's hard.

I guess luck was never by my side until now.

I just hopes for things to get better but how can I trust it to get better? I can't at all.

7 Months Later~

Its been seven months and my feelings for Y/N remained. To make things worse for my poor and broken heart? R/B/N proposed to Y/N and she said 'yes'. This just made me feel even worse. Niki saw the huge pain in my face.

She didn't hate Y/N for this cause she could never and nor did I. I just can't believe this happened. I should be happy for and I am but I wish that i was me who proposed to her and was the one that loved her like this.

Yet here I am not doing any of those which I wished I could. I broke down again. Was I really that much in love that it's making me breakdown like this? I guess so. Niki hugged me and comforted me the best she could.

I tried to calm myself down as well but this time it was too worse that it was going to be hard to calm down. I hated this. I didn't like this. I just want this feeling to go away but I guess God has decided to somehow punish me by making me love her and not move on at all.

I managed to calm myself down and broke away from the hug and went to freshen up my face. My eyes were bloodshot from all of this and I didn't want to worry Y/N at all from this. Plus we had a wedding to prepare anyways.

I could see a few maids and butlers were starting to prep the decorations and other things for the wedding. Niki was the Head maid and everything but it was a bit hard for her to plan it since she knew about my problem.

There are times where I wish I never even existed but yet here I am feeling tortured by this excruciating pain known as heartbreak. I hate this so much right now and I wish I could just scream. But I can't and I don't want to at all.

I just went along with the work and just did what I was supposed to. It didn't matter anyways. My feelings didn't really matter at the moment. It was pointless since the beginning yet I had kept my hopes up.

But one thing is that I could never hate Y/N.

A few days later~

Today is the day. The day of the wedding that Y/N was getting married to R/B/N. I was checking to see if everyone was here along with the guests, food and other things. Niki was helping Y/N get into her wedding dress. I was going to the room to see if she was ready since everything was already done and well planned.

I knocked on the door as I told who it was. I heard a faint 'come in' and slowly opened the door to see Niki helping Y/N with her veil. I was mainly focusing on Y/N. She looked breathtaking with that dress she was wearing. I broke my stare and told them that I came here to see if she was ready since it was beginning.

She nodded and thanked me for everything as she headed outside the door with another maid for the wedding to commence. Niki looked at me to see if I was alright but I reassured her that I was fine and it still hurt but I was going to be okay.

As the wedding started, I saw her walk down the aisle gracefully. Many people were in awe at her. I will be honest and agree she looked beautiful. As the priest went of with his speech and whatnot, I saw Y/N look at me and Niki as she gave a us a small smile. We both smiled back at her.

After the priest was done with the vows and other things, he told them that they could now kiss which they did without any hesitation. We all clapped in celebration. It hurt but I was able to hide my pain in front of everyone.

I just sighed. As everyone had gone it after the reception and everything was over. Right now I just put my feeling behind me as I prepared for whatever came next. I walked with Niki towards our places as I looked down.

Another Few Days Later~

Right now the maids and butlers along with me were serving Y/N and her husband's family. My feelings remained. It still hurt but I didn't show it and would always just hide it. Niki would comfort me the best way she could. At this point I didn't want her to feel burdened by me but she said I wasn't a burden and that this was normal to feel.

I wish it wasn't and I just moved on.

But all I could do now was stay friends with my Mistress, Y/N and support her and be happy for her till the time I have left on this earth.

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#ranbutler #ranbutler x you #ranbutler x reader #ranbutler x y/n #tales from the smp #the masquerade #angst #oneshots

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whumping-out-of-timee · 4 years ago

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Hunted by the Past

Cw: Physical exhaustion, Gasping for air, Slightly creepy/intimate whumper, Vengeful whumper, Mild dehydration, Acceptance of terrible fate, Sadistic whumper, Cursing

Previous: Awakening

This is the last part of the prologue for liminal red! It's still kinda rough, I might edit it later. But, right now I'd rather work on other parts. Just glad it's done!

Red Masterlist here

*****

Obsidian buildings rose in protest from the abstract salt. Distant black spires mocked the demise of the even flat plane.

It was a natural boundary but it marked the end of the outskirts. Tamer civilization existed beyond it, ruled by more responsible archdemons. The lords of this colorless wasteland protected no one. Niko had to move on and find sanctuary as soon as he could.

Niko stumbled into an alleyway, panting as he tried to shelter from the glare.

Exhausted, and thirsty. Without any time to come to terms with his new being.

Everything feels wrong

He just needed water, and he thought he could smell it? He definitely could.

Stumbling forward out of the alleyway into brightness, his legs gave out in the busy street.

Exposed on his hands and knees, breathing heavy to catch his breath. He payed no attention to the hungry eyes that swallowed him from all directions. He couldn't let fear get ahold of him again.

I can't run anymore. Is there safety in the crowd?

He didn't know. But he knew he couldn't look like a target. The limit of his ability was so close at hand, barely rising from the blackened bricks.

I just want water, I need it

Niko followed the scent in the breeze, across the street and into the glazed backroads. Paths that lingered downwards in a maze of walkways, volcanic glass constricting on either side. He could almost see himself in some of those smooth surfaces. But the promise of water drew him past, creeping further away from the lively main street.

Winding pathways getting narrower as the scent strengthened. Opening finally into a deserted area where a well stood. He could hear the soft sound of water deep below, a lullaby.

Niko nearly broke into a run at the sight, overjoyed. But, kept calm. Approaching with caution.

It's probably salt water anyway

There was already water shimmering in the bucket below, he pulled it towards him. Lowering his cracked lips to drink from the edge, fresh water drowning all his worries. Cool and untouched after the harsh freezing night.

Finally some good luck , he thought.

Niko sought out his distorted reflection in the choppy water the remained. The color of his eyes was hard to make out but he hoped they were still green. What he did notice, were the darkly colored horns on either side of his head emerging from behind his faded brown hair.

Was I always this creature inside?

A slight noise behind him made his blood run cold. New instincts hyper aware of the danger he might be in.

Niko whipped around, ready to act tough if he needed to. No matter how thinly veiled the display would be.

A stranger stood a few arm lengths away from him, standing near the narrow passageway Niko had previously arrived from.

Curling horns framed his face, contrasting under bright red hair. He stood at a strange angle, tilting his head to look at Niko with his good eye.

Niko recognized him, heart dropping instantly. It was Reyo, the salt flats were his domain. He was one of the most notorious that lived there. A true monster born from distilled suffering, crawling to the top despite his innate flaws.

I stand no chance if he remembers me

A smile spread across the archdemon's face at Niko's fear lingering in the air. He took a long deep breath, closing his eyes and raising his chin into the air.

His eyelids flew open, dilating sharply as he chuckled to himself. He straightened his posture, righting his head to an even level. A deathly glare replaced his lingering grin.

"I thought it might be you, angel" he said, taking a step towards Niko menacingly. "Remember me?"

Niko was afraid to respond, focusing on how to escape. He wanted to run back to the crowd, but the archdemon was blocking the way. Rust colored wings spread in a display to discourage him from trying to run towards safety.

It's ok.. I just have to stay calm! I have to surprise him if I have any chance of getting away

But Niko couldn't think, shaking as he stood.

Finally, Niko broke the silence, "yes, I remember you", he said. Trying his hardest to keep a calm tone as the being drew closer to him. The monster's orange iris unshifting as it sized him up with implied aggression.

He'd have one chance to run, it wasn't time yet

"Wasn't very nice, what you did to me. But, we both know it was only luck. You don't have any impressive skills, do you angel?" He smirked at those words, taking an uneven step forward. Getting nearly close enough to grab Niko. His voice dropping into disinterest as he added, "Won't you at least try running?"

Niko ripped his eyes away, trying to quickly run around the archdemon through his blind spot. But the demon threw his arm out, hitting Niko in the throat.

Damn it, damn him

Reyo made an amused sound as Niko nearly fell to the ground, gasping sharply as he staggered backwards. He tripped on an uneven patch, falling hard.

Reyo seemed to take joy in that, "Can't have you going that way, choose again!" he sung cheerfully. His wings lowered calmly, standing in place as Niko crawled away from him, gasping for air.

Niko stumbled to his feet, legs barely obeyed him as he fled. Trying to escape the echoing laughter that faded into the distance.

Crap, this is what he wants, it's a game. I have to hide, it's my only hope

Niko couldn't make it much further than the end of the street he was running down. Choosing a random alley, he ducked into it, panting against the wall.

Where am I going to hide? I cant- I'm so tired..

Niko slumped down against the wall, sitting with his back to it, he had to rest. The ache of standing was torture.

Maybe he won't find me here by some miracle

"Awe, feeling sorry for yourself now, are you?" A mocking voice rang out in near melody.

Damn. There goes that

He couldn't see Reyo anywhere. Anger rose in him, overflowing into recklessness.

"Fuck you!" Niko screamed into the empty alleyway. Immediately trying to get up and run a second time through the resulting laughter.

But, he was caught from behind. A hand over his mouth, another trapping him. The side of Reyo's hip was pressed into the base of his tail at a painful angle, immobilizing it. He tried to struggle, but the predator was around him, constricting like a snake. A larger being that rested its head on top of his.

"Ah, there's the spirit that killed me!" Reyo exclaimed loudly, as though proud of himself. Crushing Niko just hard enough to stop his breath beneath the pressure. Niko dug his clawed nails into one of Reyo's arms in vain, tears breaking out of his widened eyes.

It hurts, I can't breathe. It's all over, whatever he does with me, I'll never escape. He's too strong.

His voice evened out into a flat tone, as he covered Niko's eyes under his fingers, "No reason to cry, there is nothing to mourn. You won't be getting away from me little angel."

*****

End of prologue.

Next: Welcome to Hell

#whump #nonhuman whumpee #whumpblr #demon whump #emotional whump #whump series #whump writing #physical exaustion tw #cursing tw

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lostadrianda · 4 years ago

Text

The house of wolves

Part I

*версия на русском языке по ссылке:

https://ficbook.net/readfic/8551009

There are dark times. I thought that the death of my parents was the worst thing I would ever see in my life. But now it's so bad… I have to admit that it's worse.

Smoke from the fire rises into the sky, twisting and dragging sparks with it. An axe clatters, and a tree falls with a crunch, breaking neighboring branches. I have almost no life left in me. Almost nothing is inside. People are scurrying around. The camp is growing in front of our eyes, turning from a temporary to our permanent campsite. I look at it, trying to figure out what’s going on. I'm not used to being in camps. The detachments held out successfully for four years in the Dominiana, where we took over the houses, and everything went well. But recently we were forced out of those lands, and the Sly Fox moved all of us to the Islands. It seems to be logical decision. But on the Islands we are not welcome. We could have gone to the south to sparsely populated areas and stayed there. However, we did not do this. But why?

I was the only one who seemed to be asking questions. I don't know. I didn't have much contact with anyone from the camp. I glance at the people sitting next to me. Their faces are dry and earthy. Only the reddish glare of the fire is on them. And their eyes are fixed. You always had to keep in mind that those were wolves around you, not people. They look alike, they even show humanity from time to time. It's all a lie. And if there is any kindness in someone, it will soon be beaten out of them. It's the only way around here. I am among the enemy, I am in their ranks. I help put up new tents. But I have a feeling that I will soon be finished with. It's about time. But the Sly Fox keeps stalling. I think he understands how much this torments me. That's why he keeps me close to him. He's not stupid, no. Therefore, his decisions are not discussed.

It's funny that the Fox has committed so many crimes, but if somebody asks to show the main bastard, everyone will point the finger at me. I betrayed my family. Not native, adopted. Yes, they are all dead now, too. I guess my life didn't work out. But I didn't betray anyone. When the door was kicked in and twenty men entered with the Fox at their head, it was all over. There was nothing I could do about it, no matter how much I think about it. I pretended that I always hated my new parents. And I joined the side of the enemy. I should have given my sister time to escape. I didn't expect much more. I didn't think about anything. I didn't think I'd have to break into houses like this with the others. That now I will always hear the sound of those black boots wherever I go. I didn't think I'd have to run around in the woods. I didn’t know I'd be stuck with them for five years. I thought they would kill me that night, in the same house, as soon as they realized what I had done. But they did not understand or pretended not to understand. They still look askance. And I'm not allowed to be absolutely free. The Sly Fox sometimes calls me, asks questions, and I answer, but I keep waiting for the punishment to come. And he lets me go. During all this time, not a single suspicion was expressed. And he's smart. And there is nothing left for me, I am in his hands, always in his sight, even if he is watching me with a hundred other people's eyes, wolf eyes. He is always somewhere above me, behind me. All the time my life is suspended, and I know it.

My only hope is that my sister will return. I have nothing else left. Everything is so empty. And I’m doing something wrong. I close my eyes so that I don't see anything, so that I don't understand what is happening to me. Because as soon as I start thinking, it turns me inside out. When I forget myself, I gather wood for a fire, go with others and scout the area around the camp, draw some maps. And everything seems to be as it should be. I make an obedient and silent employee, everyone is happy, I do not interfere with anyone. The whole body shakes, as if with a strong chill, and no fire warms. So something inside is resisting. It remembers, and remembers well, that the Sly Fox is the enemy. That he killed a lot of people. But he's good, he's built everything right. He's got an army of about three thousand men, and they all look at him and catch every word. Only one person I've ever known, only one person in my entire life, could stand up to him. And this is my sister. Isn’t it funny, huh? As I remember her, thin, fragile, as I look at the Fox… I can't believe it. But that’s true. Her playful dark eyes flashed with such power sometimes that I was willing to believe that she would overcome anyone. And every time I look at the Fox, I always look at the scar on his cheek. My sister left this for him as a souvenir.

But I haven't heard from her in five years. It's too long to wait, you know? A person waits, waits for a week, a month, maybe a year… And then begins to live, throwing a veil of oblivion over the past. Only I never started again. The air balloon ends sooner or later, you know? And I'm still trying to grab the mask and breathe, breathe. Nothing is inside. In the camp, when people talk about her, all they say is that she must have been dead for a long time. I wished they say something else, even nonsense. Nooo. There are no other options in anyone's mind. Only my brains resist. Things can't be that bad. No matter how much life beats me, I won't believe it. It can't be that bad.

Smoke from the fire gets in my nose. It's getting colder, the earth is blowing in autumn, and the leaves are not the same as before. I rub my flushed hands together. The Islands don't like us. We are like an ulcer on their body. We tried to move deeper into the mountains and fortify ourselves. Fifty of our men were killed in two days. A couple of detachments remained in the dense forests at the foot of the mountain, while the rest were scattered along the coasts hiding. We choose places so that we are not found for as long as possible. And it’s strange that the Fox ordered us to fortify ourselves here. But let hell be with it.

The sky has been cloudy all the time we've been here. Today, for the first time, I see the sun shining. Even now you can't see the sky — it's all white, with darker clouds floating across it. The horizon is dark-blue, grim, colliding with an even darker, colder sea. I look into the distance and for the first time I think that my sister must be dead. It scares so much. It's like I'm no longer a human being and I'm becoming a wolf, like all those people around me. That’s really scary. For some reason everything turns to be meaningless. No, I won't give them my soul. They took everything from me, but they won't get it. I will believe till the end. I will resist until I lose my mind. Why am I sitting now here with them, as if I really took their side?

It makes me feel sick. I kept hiding in their ranks and waiting for my sister to break out. Five years have passed. Time flies quickly, terribly, the further away, the more ghostly. I forget how it all happened, I forget why it happened, I forget what a mistake we made. I still think that I did everything right. I acted as I should. As well as I could. But for some reason, it all turned out to be really bad.

If I am the only one left here, who is still fighting, who still remembers that there were better, brighter times, if my sister is dead, and no one is fighting without her, isn't it time for me to get up? Isn't it time to remember who I was and how I was brought up, and what was on my mind before I got bogged down in this mire? I'm biting my lip nervously, they are already looking at me with suspicion.

What a coward I have become! Just thinking makes my temples sweat. I’m used to waiting for a miracle, but as soon as I imagined that I had to act myself, I shrank from fear and wanted to hide away. If only they didn't touch me, if only, if only... I did not to experience new horrors. You don't like me, do you? Despise? Look at me, all that is left of me is my skin, hanging on my bones! These wolves, damn them, have broken me so badly that none of my old friends would recognize me. But what good are these friends: they're either dead or they're first in line to take my head off.

I stand up from the log I've been sitting on all this time and feel my legs go numb. They are frozen to the bones. I stand still to stretch them a little. The two men sitting next to me look at me lazily.

— Where are you going? – Their cracked lips move, yellow teeth appear in between them. Those men probably don't like camp life either. And how long this will continue, no one knows.

— I'll go up to the river. There's one place I don't understand, I want to look at it.

— Don't run into anyone. We don't need you to bring the villagers here.

I nod. I don't get into fights, I don't get involved. Everything I have inside, I keep inside, and it’s a habit that has covered me like armor. I walk past the tents, from campfire to campfire, and turn onto the path that leads higher. I climb up and look back. Lights, trampled paths, people. I'm sick to death of such views. The further away from them, the better it is. I know I'll be back anyway. It's sickening. But the closer I get to them, the more I can learn about the outside world. I'm still waiting for news. At least one piece of news about my sister would be great. No one else will tell me. Only sitting by the fire I learn something new. Everyone in the outside world that I strive for hates me so much that they won't hesitate when they see me. They’ll kill me instantly. Here in the squads, I'm just one of hundreds. To the outside world, I stand in one line with the Fox. And he is happy for this — to keep a traitorous son and show everyone that even I recognized his power.

#story #story time #writer #writing #writing in quarantine #writings #writing inspiration #writers on tumblr #writers #writblr #house of wolves #part #dark #darkness #feelings

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