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#making up fairy tales again
queenlucythevaliant · 10 months
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harder than you think
i. When the Narnians stole Edmund away from beneath the Witch's blade, they told him he was safe. This wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either.
ii. They brought him to the Stone Table. It was night. Edmund doubted very much that he would find safety there, for he still recoiled at the name of Aslan. He slept fitfully and woke the next morning before the sun was up.
iii. A sliver of gold just beyond the tent flap captured his attention, there in the dark. Unaccountably, Edmund felt the urge to rise and go towards it.
iv. And there was Aslan, who was supposed to be fearsome, supposed to be dangerous, supposed to be powerful, and he was he was he was. Dimly, Edmund felt himself hitting the ground.
v. But then Aslan said, “Come, Son of Adam. Let us walk a while, and reason together.”
vi. And as they walked together, in the cool dewy grass of early morning, the Lion told Edmund everything that he had ever done.
vii. They were standing in front of the Table when the conversation turned. Aslan spoke a riddle of a house blasted into rubble which he would piece back together overnight. He spoke of flesh being pierced, blood being shed, and of rejected stones being used for new foundations. He spoke about water welling up forever, washing you clean of everything you ever did wrong, all the blood that you ever thought of shedding, everything you ever tried to steal, and a river that carries you home when you can't walk anymore and spits you out brand new when it reaches the sea.
viii. Edmund's head swam. Silently, he yearned for the wisdom to understand what he was being told; or, failing that, at least to remember it for as long as it took him to puzzle it out.
ix. And then, the Witch. Then, the battle. The thrones. A year passed, and winter came. In its time, it melted back to glorious spring.
x. “Edmund,” said Lucy one day. “There's something we need to tell you.” She and Susan were cloaked in springtime gossamer, like fairy queens in poems he only half remembered. They sat on the window seat in his study, holding hands white-knuckled: his two beloved sisters.
xi. “It's about Aslan,” Susan said. “And the White Witch, and how he made her renounce her claim on your blood. The night before Beruna, he went back to the Stone Table.”
xii. “He let her kill him,” Lucy cut in. “Instead of you. And then, because he hadn't done anything wrong, the Emperor's Deeper Magic brought him back to life.”
xiii. “We've been arguing all year about how much to tell you,” said Susan wryly. Then, a little gentler, “We don't want to hurt you, but we feel you ought to be told what he did for you.”
xiv. And Edmund, who had never forgotten what Aslan told him on that cool, dewy morning before the sun came up, shut his eyes and whispered, “I know.”
xv. I know, he said. I know that he died. I know that he did it for me. I know he lived again because I saw him the next day, and the next, and the next. I think I know what it means - or at least, I know the shape of it.
xvi. “Oh,” said Lucy. “We should have realized that he would have told you himself.”
xvii. “Yes. But please, tell me the story all the same.”
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fictionadventurer · 8 months
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Have I mentioned lately that creating AUs is the most fun thing ever? You get to take a story you love and then mash it against another type of story you love and fit all their pieces together like they're a jigsaw puzzle. You get to find all the unexpected points of similarity where the stories fit together really well, and see the places where their differences change and make commentary on the original stories/genres in really interesting ways.
And then once you fit the pieces together, you get to look at the new world you've made and see how these characters in this specific world have different conflicts and explore new themes, and you get to play with another level of puzzles as you figure out what this means for this story.
It's the most fun ever. It's my favorite game.
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swordmaid · 10 months
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shri’iia mood board
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mokeonn · 4 months
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I think that the 2010's media landscape of Buzzfeed articles about plotholes in disney movies, Cinemasins critiques, and Watchmojo Top Ten scenes in movies that make no sense has truely ruined a lot of media. People are afraid that their work will be torn down if they dare leave a single thing up in the air, if they dare ask their audience to suspend their disbelief.
All too often nowadays I see stories (especially fantasy), take the time to explain how every small aspect of the world works and how it all logically makes sense. The constant time stopped to explain why an event happened, how this object works, or why this is important to the characters. It's just really not needed and it honestly makes a lot of stories worse.
I am of the opinion that the best stories truly just drop you into their world and explain nothing. They just take you through the story of this world and you just have to accept it and continue on. "When he became king, the land became barren." I don't want the story to stop and explain why this is, or how it happened, I want us to move on so we can just assume that the king has such rancid vibes that everything died.
#simon says#i watched the Last Unicorn again recently and it fucking slaps#and I noticed a huge part of why it slapped is because it doesn't explain shit#same with a lot of other fantasy things from the 70's and 80's I've noticed#and even older stories all the way back to fairy tales and fables#they just tell you something and move on#and it works!#a lot of the time it feels far too hand-holdy or immersion breaking for the characters to stop and explain something for the audience#like these characters would not take the time to explain the aspects of their world in detail to other people who live in this world#this is clearly for the audience only and so that they can feel more satisfied with an answer#but it fucking sucks!!#it is bad writing!!#to presume your audience has no suspension of disbelief so you stop everything to explain how the world works for them alone is bad!#it makes the story feel awkward because it feels out of character for the people of the world to talk like that and it feels insulting tbh#like you really think the audience's ability to pick up details of the world from dialog and onscreen (or page) information is that poor??#and to some extent it is#lord knows we are having a serious media literacy and general literacy issue in the United States#but it's honestly just bad writing and it bugs me so much. my number 1 pet peeve in fantasy is overexplaining especially when it doesn't fit#like just fucking tell me that there's a magical world on the other side of this wall in a village and move on#i can just accept this fact#imagine if the Dark Crystal took the time to explain every aspect of the world#that movie is already jam packed with random story and world bits that you just have to accept and move on from#now imagine if they took a solid 2 minutes to explain what the fuck Fizzgig is.#i think leaving it at 'he's a friendly monster and Kira's friend!' is the perfect place to leave it at#we do not need a full explanation on Fizzgig's species and behavior and why he's friendly unlike other monsters#he's a friendly monster and he's Kira's friend! that's all we need to know! we got a dark crystal to put back together!!!
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quietwingsinthesky · 8 months
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i do love canon amy & rory but god, does some part of me wish they really had gone with the idea of the doctor picking up a child as a companion (and then later, that child’s best friend with a huge crush on her.) with the rest of the season really not changing at all, except now it’s amelia pond with an angel in her head killing her and lost alone in the woods. it’s little rory who dies and is forgotten and becomes a toy soldier. if this is going to be a fairy tale, then let it be one. children have never been safe in fairy tales.
#it wouldn’t have to change any of the actual plot of the season. except MAYBE amy’s choice but even then i think amy’s choice would be the#one episode where they should be adults. if only for the half where they live in a village in that dream.#because that’s the kind of future that children would dream up. they live in a little cottage and nothing ever goes wrong and their best#friend visits them all the time even though they’ve grown up.#they aren’t actually adults there just children with an idea of what they should be as adults and acting accordingly#and it would still end the same way.#but idk its just. rory’s 2000 years waiting for amy inside the pandorica is already tragic. yes.#now imagine its a kid. a kid in a little roman soldier helmet who will never grow up. who will not leave his best friend.#he loves her and she’s more important than the whole universe and that sort of love is supposed to MEAN something in a fairy tale!#its supposed to melt the ice out of hearts and transform people from stone.#and what that love means here. is that he will have to wait 2000 years. a child and a box.#little rory and the amelia who followed the doctor’s letters to the pandorica. and she doesn’t recognize him again.#and amelia in the pandorica… 2000 years a child trapped in a small box waiting to be rescued.#s5 is already fucked for them but it could be worse. it could be so much worse.#and it would make the doctor choosing to take her place in the pandorica to save the universe later even better.#because who else but the doctor would put the fate of the universe on the shoulders of two children and realize much too late what a#monstrous thing he’d done. and still have to hope. have to hope. that amelia would remember him fondly enough to bring him back to reality.#the logistics of all of this would have been a pain lmao. child labor laws in acting and all that.#BUT. hypothetically. it would have slapped.#doctor who#amy pond#rory williams#<- also this entire time ive been referring to him in my head as rory pond so much that i fuckin. forgot his actual last name.#and then like if you want them to be adults in s6 or whatever you can just timeskip to them getting married and still have amelia remember#the doctor there. it would work. it would.#amelia pond au
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forcedhesitation · 5 months
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crazy how he just ignores everyone else and speaks directly to wyll. it's like wyll is like one of the most important characters in this game, or something.
#bg3#thoughts about media#I'm sure if karlach is there- gort might address her first instead?#I looked at the screenshots from my other playthroughs to see if I had this scene archived.#of course I literally have everything BUT this part.#I mean it makes a ton of sense why gort addresses wyll.#beyond the fact that wyll's father is there- baldur's gate KNOWS who wyll is. the patriars know who wyll is. they know he was exiled.#gort's trying to make wyll feel small and out of place. referring to him as the blade but undermining his heroic image by mentioning-#-his newly acquired fiendish features. also a bit of a brag I think. since gort himself escaped the hells & a devil physically unchanged.#that and I think gortash is like...a perfect mirror opposite to wyll. so to have them at odds over the fate of baldur's gate makes sense.#fits the whole fairy tale theme of wyll's story too. I mean how many stories are there of cheats like gortash being ousted from their-#-unrightful place on the throne by the true heir? the valiant and just prince come to save his people from the cruel lying tyrant?#*sigh* yet another thing that I wish they developed more in wyll's quest.#because this would all feel like a rather complex and complete story if wyll himself is your avatar.#but when he is a companion- I just don't think the quest features enough to make up for him not being the avatar.#I wish there was more of this- more wyll being the focus- more baldurians recognising who he is! it's HIS city after all!#I AM going to enjoy beating the shit out of gortash again though.#he and mizora are on my “top ten video game characters of all time I'd like to see SKINNED ALIVE” list.
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sskk-manifesto · 2 months
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Ep 5!!!
#Episodes that make me go “The author has never talked with a woman ever” 😓😓😓#I don't like how Lucy's character is handled at all. And I feel like I can't talk about it because I'm just going to sound like a bitter–#ss/kk shipper... But I really don't like it. And if it can help my case I'm a multishipper so I really don't take any–#issues with atsu/lucy I like the ship quite a lot actually.#So you're telling me there's this girl... Who meets this boy who pretty much ruined her life by directly causing her to lose her job...#And the next time she sees him she's going to sacrifice her own freedom for him as well as tell him “when you're done doing your things–#come and save me” (longest ewwww ever)... And when she regains freedom (author didn't bother to explain how because they don't care)–#she goes to work... As a waitress at the café beneath his workplace. So he can keep doing his Cool Superpowers Job while she literally–#must serve him every time he visits the place. It's just ?????????????????????????????????#Look‚ I don't dislike Lucy and I feel general affection towards her. It's just that they make her act like no one ever would#Just for the sake of the plot I guess#And like I knoww it's (probably just a little) more nuanced than that. I know Lucy is living her own fairy tale fantasy.#It's just that what I've said about her story is still true‚ you know?#I'm sorry but as sweet as atsu/lucy can be. I really hate the author for making Lucy a waitress. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.#It's so weird. This anime has women writing standards that feel like dating back to the 20s#Same with Katai and the ideal woman tbh. Like why are women to be seen as this abstract impersonal entities? Why can't they just be people?#Ideal for WHO. It's like super screwed up of a concept. What even is an ideal woman? What does it mean to be a woman anyways?#They just want to say “ideal wife”. But women aren't made to be wives their existence isn't functional to another person.#Sorry. I derail. Next episode is going to be even worse on this front ughhhh#Back to the episode: once again it really shows they were running out of budget with this season‚‚‚ the animation looks very suffered#Too many flashback also... I feel bad for the animators tbh#I don't really like the shift in art style :( Not even Atsushi I found particularly pretty this episode my heart cries#The nail pulling thing made me feel like throwing up afhsjyabfsbfwasfvb I feel like I can bear worse gore but there's a couple of little–#specific things I can't stand and this seems to be one of them pffftttt#I like Higuchi I think she's both very funny and cool. I really wish she was explored more (but then again looking at Teruko... )#The relationship between Kunikida and Katai looks so interesting even though we only get glimpses of it. Kunikida regrets Katai leaving–#the ada but is also happy for him but also worries for him. He comes to his house seemingly to check on him and starts cleaning around.#The way he loves him and cherishes their friendship and shared history is really evident and it makes for a compelling dynamic.#Perhaps I should read their short story... In any case. Going to someone's house and compulsively start doing the dishes half out of will–#to help out half because he can't bear the mess sounds a lot like something I'd do lol
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ofyorkshire · 11 months
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...oh my stars
i don't know if it was intentional, but repetitively referring to bj as "ziggy stardust" in the red riding novels completely foreshadowed bj's death.
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#something something the parallels between bj and ziggy both being referenced as imperfect messiahs#and wanting to bring hope to a hellish world (bj consistently sticking his neck out to help uncover yorkshire's corruption)#but ultimately being dragged into the same hate he wanted to stop and destroying himself / being destroyed by the very people who sent him#ie - bj being threatened to send a message by the police and eventually being killed by the police (albeit *sort of* on his own terms)#also maybe something to be said about bowie retiring ziggy partially bc he got too wrapped up in the persona and questioning his sanity#sort of paralleling bj losing his mind (ironically) in the psych ward and heading off to get his revenge on laws (and ultimately jobson).#but that's probably looking way too deep into it.#this meta has almost 0 meaning in the film universe (which is closer to my canon anyway) but. ow. i have emotions.#talking about rr makes me sound insane i'm aware skdflskf but i swear it makes sense.#if there was a fandom for this series i would be popping off.#(again not encouragement to read the novels. watch the films sure. don't read he novels.)#(not unless you're just that obsessed with understanding what the heck was going on in the films like me. they're deeply disturbing.)#(but i did read them bc i DID want to know and now you guys have to live with my crazy ramblings about bj.)#(which may or may not be accurate bc peace leans *a lot* on experiences in '70s-'80s yorkshire which he was alive for. i obv was not lmao)#out of fairy tales [ooc];
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firethatgrewsolow · 2 years
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Hi love! Would you think of doing like a period fic or a hurt/comfort ever? I love the one chapter where Michelle gets drugged and then lost…would love to see something like it again (:
Hello there! Eeee so happy you've read Mich & Rob, and that you liked the chapter! 💕 That story is where all this madness began. In terms of a period fic, I dunno if you've seen Branwen (Viking Robert), but if you haven't, it might fit the bill. I'm not exactly sure what period it is ha, as I kind of smashed a few different time frames together, but it definitely touches on comfort / hurt, etc. It's unfinished but hopefully a good read. That said, I think I'm finally feeling inspired again. 🎊🎊 The reign of the orange sub-human coupled with Covid really fucked me up, and I lost a lot of drive and time (and sanity), but at long last, I feel like I'm returning to my normal happy, sappy, slightly depraved self. That's all a long-winded way of saying that I'll dive right in and see what sticks! I'm working on a couple small vignettes so it may take a little while, but I'm here for it. 😊 If you have any more specifics (or if anyone does), toss me another anon - or message me. Thanks for the note, friend - I really appreciate it!! 💖💖💖
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Unfortunately I’m partial to AUs in fanfics so right now I’m holding the tale about the Lind-worm Prince in one hand while I got Knives/Legato (+Vash/Wolfwood) in the other and going “hmmm is this anything”
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luxaofhesperides · 2 months
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the beginning - danny
0.
The Lazarus Pit brings Danny back.
The child who went into them, however, is gone forever.
Danyal al Ghul is the soul who should reside in this body. Danyal has a life still to live and Danny died ages ago, old and surrounded by loved ones, ready to spend the rest of his forever in the Infinite Realms.
Something's gone terrible wrong, he thinks rather wryly, squinting through the cold green water that surrounds him. An ache echoes through his body and he brings a hand—small, a child's hand that shouldn't belong to him— to his stomach, where he can feel a large wound slowly pull itself together.
Did I get stabbed?
He means to continue the thought, but a sharp pain hits his head, making him curl up. He gasps and air bursts from his lungs, water rushing to fill in the empty space. Danny chokes, panicking, as memories slide into place, the lives of Danyal al Ghul and Danny Fenton fighting for dominance in his head. His lungs burn, throat working futilely to push water out, but there's nothing to be done.
Danny is a child again, and just like last time, he dies young.
1. So.
Assassins.
Danny honestly can't tell if this is a step up or a step down from mad scientist parents. On the one hand: he knows they loved him, as clumsy as it was, even though they loved their work more. On the other hand: assassin cult sounds like something out of a fairy tale, and while cool, is definitely not safe for kids.
And Danny, somehow, is a child again.
This really wasn't what he expected when he woke up on the sandy bottom of the pit. He's in ghost form, which is an unpleasant shock, but at least its familiar.
He is also, if his memory as Danyal serves him correctly, nine years old.
Kinda sucks that he died so young this time round. Didn't even make it to the double digits before he was taken out of the running.
He can't remember what it was like being so small in his last life. He can't imagine how anyone would look at a child and run them through with a sword. It's a cruel world he's woken up in. It's made worse by the fact that he's alone.
At least being down here without needing to breathe is giving him valuable time to think.
Danny has lived a full life already. He didn't really need or want another one, content to be a full ghost in the Infinite Realms. But going back isn't really an option, now that he's in a new body. The kid he could have been deserves to live fully, and the least Danny can do is live that life for them.
It'll be hard, but Danny's sure he can manage a decent life for himself.
Being presumed dead will make his escape from the assassins easier, though he'll miss getting the chance to meet his new mother; assassin as she is, Danyal knows her not by her blades but by her soft lullabies and jasmine-scented hair. The loss of her child must be hurting her deeply, but it's necessary. If Danny wants any semblance of a normal life, he has to leave her behind.
Besides, he's seen enough death. He doesn't want to ever be the cause of it.
So, he needs a plan for this new life.
Step one: get out of dodge.
The rest he'll figure out on the way.
2.
Turns out assassins weren't the most shocking thing in this new life.
No, that honor goes to superheroes.
Genuine, honest to God superheroes! With powers and everything!
To think that Danny once called himself a superhero. Ha! As if! He's nothing compared to the likes of Superman or the Flash or even Green Lantern. They're in another league. Literally. They're part of the Justice League, which has a whole slew of other heroes, and Danny is possibly their biggest fan.
Not like that's weird; most people in this world are huge fans of superheroes. Makes sense, since they're the ones who rely on their protection the most.
It does suck to know that his background belongs to that of a villain. Assassins aren't known for saving people, after all.
Part of him contemplates becoming a hero again, taking up the role of Phantom and joining the ranks of Superman. But he's had many years to come to terms with the loss of his teenage years and the bitterness that came with it. That experience, that life once lived, helps him decide each time that being a civilian is the gift this life owes him.
At thirteen, Danny lives in a foster home with six other kids. He's the oldest and has his hands full taking care of everyone else while their foster parents work three jobs between them to keep them all afloat.
When his younger siblings play superheroes, he gladly takes the role of the villain, swooping in with a blanket to kidnap away an innocent bystander that has to be rescued. He falls over dramatically at the end of each fight and praises his siblings' strength and teamwork, making them puff up with pride.
It's all fun and games so long as it only stays fun and games.
Superpowers are cool and all, but his came at the cost of his life, his health, his future. He knows, better than anyone, the price of being a hero. He knows that even Superman carries heavy losses on his shoulders, struggles under burdens no one can see.
He's lucky that the small town he ended up in—Luray, Virginia—has no heroes or villains. Too small a place to be on anyone's radar, apparently.
His classmates often complain about how they wish they could live in a big city where there's more to do, more to see, superheroes flying through the streets to protect them.
Danny is happy where he is. It's quiet, and small, and nothing like what he's used to, but it's safe.
That's all he really wants.
3.
Here's something that stays the same no matter what world he's in: Danny is a magnet for trouble.
If the trouble stopped at bullies, everything would have been fine. Danny could handle Dash, and he could handle Justin just as easily.
But the universe loves to escalate with Danny, specifically, which is why Danny had to reveal his powers when some villain-wannabe school shooter attacked his high school.
And to think he felt bad for Jackson when he didn't make it onto the track team.
Luray does not have a meta population. They're too small to have much of a population at all, and much of it is white which made him, half-Iranian, stand out even before he threw out a barrier of ice to protect his classmates a second before the gunfire began.
"Danny?!" his seatmate, Clarrissa, cries out in alarm.
"Everyone get out the window and run for it!" he orders, "I hold him back as much as I can!"
"You can't stay here!"
"Don't worry," Danny says, offering her a tight smile. "He couldn't kill me even if he tried. Now go!"
His classmates hadn't wasted any more time, sending him shocked looks as they escaped the classroom. A glimpse of his reflection in the window revealed glowing green eyes and blue mist wafting out of his mouth.
Looks like his time in Luray is up. He hopes his foster siblings won't be too mad at him for running away.
The gunfire stops, and Danny takes his chance to leap through his ice, intangible, and tackle Jackson, easily knocking the gun away from him.
"Monster!" Jackson spits at him, and Danny laughs.
"Bold of you to say that. I'm not to one trying to kill people."
He doesn't want to hear anything else that comes out of Jackson's mouth, so he knocks the guy out with a solid hit to a pressure point on his neck. Hopefully that'll keep him down long enough for the cops to get him.
Danny stands and means to leave, but something hits the back of his head hard and he's out before he realizes what's happened.
When he wakes up, he's strapped down to a table in what is undeniably a lab, and sighs.
At least he made it to sixteen before he went into another lab. Maybe in his next life he might even get all the way up to twenty before he's pulled back down here.
4. Though he has all his powers and a ghost form, that doesn't mean he is a ghost in this life.
No, he's fully a meta, which means meta-suppressing cuffs work on him.
It's not exactly a discovery he was hoping to have while locked up in a lab, but it's what he's got, so he has to roll with it. The cuffs are heavy on his wrists and around his throat, keeping him from escaping as a group of people in masks and lab coats bustle around, ignoring him.
His head is still foggy, though likely more from the drugs than the hit he took to his head.
He doesn't bothering talking to any of them; they don't see him as human, and Danny's dealt with enough of that in his past life.
Mad scientists love to talk though, so he still hears the gist of their plans: recreating the meta gene for normal people, making a profit from selling powers, getting rich and famous from their accomplishments. They had been using Jackson to get corpses for human testing, but they got Danny instead — someone they can harvest bio material for, a much better find than a couple dead kids.
If he had the energy to rage, Danny would have killed everyone in the room already. They planned to kill his classmates just for test subjects.
He doesn't want to be an assassin, but he'd gladly lean into those old lessons to make sure they never hurt anyone again.
But the cuffs and drugs do a good job of keeping him docile, barely able to think, as they transport him around to different locations and cut him open.
He's not sure how long it's been when they ease up on the drugs a bit. It still takes time for his body to work through everything, and he comes too with a throat that's dry and a stomach that hasn't had anything in it for quite some time.
The first thing Danny does when they start asking him questions is throw up on them.
If they wanted cooperation, they should have treated him better. This is fully on them.
It makes for a convincing argument for food and water and a bathroom break, at least, so he gets what he demands and takes care of his human body under the cold gazes of three scientists.
"You guys suck," he says conversationally. "Keeping test subjects alive is like basic knowledge. No wonder y'all suck at your jobs."
"Your comments aren't needed," one of the scientists says primly. "Get up. We need to study how using your powers affects your body."
They hook a bunch of different things onto him, then lock him in a glass cage and use the cuff around his throat to send jolts of electricity through him when he doesn't do anything. He throws a chunk of ice at them, watching as it breaks apart into small pieces when it hits the glass. The scientists scribble in their notepads, and when they look at him again, he flips them off.
He gets shocked again, but it's worth it.
The process repeats for another few hours, then he's pulled out of the cage, gets an IV stuck in his arm, and drops off into drugged oblivion before he has time to start throwing hands.
5.
It must have been months. Danny's not sure; it's hard to keep track of time when locked in isolation.
He knows he's fed at least once a day. He's been getting a tray of bland food at random times, but he's counted over 50 trays sliding through the little slot on the bottom of his cell door.
Turns out insulting scientists and their procedures is a bad idea, especially when he has the language to really bruise their egos.
So.
Isolation sucks.
But at least they don't drug him anymore!
The cuffs do their job of keeping him in place, and if he didn't have memories of another life to keep him company, he definitely would have lost his mind long ago.
There's other people in here, other metas. He's heard them screaming and begging for mercy. He's heard them go chillingly quiet. He wonders why there are so many superheroes in this world when not a single one has come to save them.
Surely at least one would notice metas disappearing and would investigate?
But no.
No one ever comes to save them.
So Danny needs to figure out a way past the cuffs, and then he can be Phantom again long enough to free the other metas and make every scientist involve pay for their crimes.
He just needs to wait.
He just needs—
6.
When Danny wakes up, the alarms are ringing. It makes his head pound, throbbing with each piercing sound.
He stumbles up, using the wall to keep his balance, and freezes when he sees that the door to his cell is open.
…Huh.
The hallway is bathed in red light when he steps out. No one's around. He wanders around the facility, searching for answers and only finds more questions.
There are other cells, also empty. Certain rooms have blood splattered across the walls and the floor, but no bodies. Labs are destroyed, broken glass on the floor. But every room is empty.
He wanders until he finds what must be a security room. There's a strange device dangling off a keychain on a rack, and Danny eyes it curiously. He runs his fingers around the cuff on his throat, feels the little depression where the collar comes together, and takes the rounded device. If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work.
But if it does work…
The cuff pops open easily, as if it hasn't been his greatest foe these past few months.
All at once, his strength returns to him. He has forgotten what it was like to breathe easily, to feel his powers come to his call so easily, to be reassured that he can take care of himself.
It's almost like coming back to life.
He transforms, settling back into his ghost form with relief, and flies through the facility in search of any other metas that may need help. He finds no one, but he does catch a glimpse of the outside.
The sky is so blue it almost hurts to look at. Part of the facility has been blown apart; rubble surrounds the place and the surrounding forest has been flattened. It looks as though a fight has moved through the area.
Maybe a superhero did come to save them? Rude of them to leave only Danny, though.
He continues his search, poking his head into different rooms and hallways. He finds a staircase going down and follows it into the basement. More labs greet him, and the glow of computers and strange vials of liquid leave him unsettled.
There's a green glow coming around the corner than reminds him of the Lazarus Pit he flew out of, once upon a time many years ago, and that's what draws him forward.
Tucked away in that familiar glow is a small body, floating in a tube of liquid. There's an oxygen mask attached to her face, but that doesn't stop Danny from recognizing her.
"Ellie?"
7.
Just like in one life, Danny is cloned. The difference is that this time, there's no reason for it, no insane godfather trying to recreate a version of him that will choose him.
No, this time it's from a group of scientists who should have known better, who decided to mess around with his genes, and brought his once little sister now daughter into such a cruel, dangerous world.
Danny barely remembers breaking the glass to get her out of there. He doesn't know where he found the coat to bundle her up in, flying out of the facility as fast as he could. He feels sick, knowing it's his fault that she's here now, forced into a painful, terrifying existence because he wasn't strong enough to save himself.
He's a runaway meta victim of mad science. He can't take care of her.
"I'm sorry, Ellie," he whispers to her, pressing a kiss against her head. "I'm so sorry."
She small in his arms. She barely weighs anything.
Danny blinks back tears and tries to find some place he can stop and rest, somewhere safe he can gather his thoughts and figure out his next steps.
This isn't like when he first woke up in this world, with both sets of memories.
This is Ellie.
She deserves more than just a wish and a half-baked plan for a better life.
She deserves a family that wants her, that can care for her, that can protect her. She deserves to grow up normally and not worry about destabalizing or being a replacement for him or being hunted down.
She deserves one life to be a kid and grow up safe and be whoever she wants to be.
Danny will never be able to give her that.
But maybe he can give her to someone who can.
8.
Danyal grew up with an assassin mother and a cruel grandfather who expected far too much from a child. He was taught to kill and be more weapon than child. He was taught the world was something for him to take, to protect, to water with blood.
Danyal was meant to be the next Demon Head, and the next Bat.
Danny knows he can't go to his mother. If they're both lucky, he will never have to see her again. Knowing his luck, he's already planning explanations for why he never went back to her.
Danny's father, on the other hand…
It didn't take much to put the pieces together. The notorious Bat is Batman, Gotham's vigilante and one of the founders of the Justice League. While a child would have been left confused by the many comments his mother made about his father, it was simple enough for Danny to line them up with what he learned about the heroes of this world and realize, oh, that's my dad.
It takes a few weeks of research, using public libraries with Ellie tucked securely in a wrap to his chest, but he's able to learn more about Batman.
The most important thing being that he has kids.
Of course, none of this is officially acknowledged, but everyone knows that the Robins are his kids. Current Robin, especially, likes to remind people that he's 'the son of Batman'.
Okay. Cool.
Danny has siblings.
Awesome.
He's… not looking forward to those conversations.
At least it means more people to look after Ellie. Assuming they take her in, which Danny's really hoping for.
But it's the best he can do, so Danny sets course for Gotham and hopes that just this once, everything will work out.
9.
Meeting the Bats of Gotham is a lot harder than he expected.
A week in the city and he's barely caught more than a glimpse of them. He can't dedicate a lot of time to tracking them down either, needing to break into grocery stores to get food for him and Ellie.
She's so quiet as a baby, and it terrifies him. She's only cried twice the entire time he's had her, and Danny spends every day begging her to hold on.
Time during the day is spent catching naps and researching common vigilante spotting areas in Gotham. He's got a map of Gotham taken from a library and has been steadily marking it up, putting stars in the best places to find a Bat. There are places all over the city, and Danny has no idea how to know which ones are the best.
The only thing he can do is wait at a different rooftop each night, clinging to Ellie, wondering if this is the last night he has with her.
On the ninth night, someone finally arrives.
"Step away from the edge," a voice demands.
Danny turns to see Robin approaching, hands held out as if to catch him. He's bigger than Danny was expecting. Which makes sense; most of the stories Danny got online are from when Robin was a kid, and it's been a few years since then. He must be a teenager now. Older, but still young.
"Robin," he manages to say, his throat tightening. It feels almost like there's a noose around it. It feels like that meta-suppressing cuff has clicked back into place, leaving him helpless.
"Step away from the edge," Robin repeats. "There is no need for this to be your last resort."
"But it is," Danny whispers.
Robin darts forward and wraps a hand around Danny's wrist, yanking him towards the center of the roof. "Why on Earth would you come up here? Surely you must have known that someone would stop you."
"Batman," he gets out. "I need to speak to Batman."
"What for?"
"I'm… I was told, once, that I'm his son."
10. Robin stares at him for a long moment.
Then he takes off his mask.
Danny knows those eyes: he sees them every time he looks in a mirror.
"Danyal," Robin breathes. "You died before I was born."
"I did. Are you…?"
"Mother told me about you."
So he has a little brother. If only he hadn't left first chance he got, he could have known his little brother, gotten away from that place before it hurt him too. Danny has made many mistakes since he arrived in this world. Missing a little brother is perhaps the worst of them.
"Mother…" Danny repeats. "She put me in the Lazarus Pit. I remember that. She didn't want me to die."
"I was born to replace you."
Just like Ellie.
So many mistakes repeating. He's never felt like more of a failure.
"Batman. Our father. He treats you well? You are safe with him?"
Robins brows furrow, but he nods, which is enough for Danny. "Yes. Of course. Isn't that why you're here now?"
"I'm not asking for me." Danny carefully, gently, unwraps Ellie. "I'm asking for her. Please, take care of her. She deserves more than I can give her. Ellie… she'd be your niece."
Robin's eyes are wide. He's frozen until Danny pushes Ellie against his chest, forcing him to lift his arms to hold her.
"Wait, what about—?"
When Robin looks up, Danny's already gone.
It's for the best.
(masterpost for all parts)
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fictionadventurer · 11 months
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Of course the sequel to Out of the Tomb would be a vocation story. Tanza's let go of sin and embraced virtue. Naturally, the next part of her story would involve her figuring out what she's going to do with her particular gifts and interests. Especially if what she should do doesn't necessarily line up with what she'd want to do if given the choice. With all the crazy political stuff bringing in questions of duty and image and danger, it's the perfect fit. I can't believe I didn't figure it out before.
#adventures in writing#arateph#i hesitate to actually write this story#too often a sequel can ruin a story#and it's been far too long for me to have an audience for it#yet#i've finally arranged these pieces into a coherent story#figured out how to integrate the personal and the political#figured out how to make the fairy tale fit in well#figured out what she'd do in the flabby middle part of the story#(and it's something that makes me really excited on a theme and worldbuilding level)#and now the discussion of christian character arcs brought this to mind again#and it could be *so* intriguing#with all the presidential posts i've been making was longing to write a story with a political aspect#and then remembered i've got a whole universe with the craziest political situation#and an every(wo)man hero who wants nothing to do with it but still gets caught up in it#i could write all sorts of crazy meta posts about arateph's post-auren-resurrection politics#there are so many big issues tied up in this one person and how does he handle that???#just want to keyboard smash about my own characters#i was content with leaving this universe behind but every time i think that it bludgeons me from behind#and this is the first time i think i have a story that's worthwhile as a retelling *and* a standalone arc#and i don't know what to do with it#(probably wait 2.5 days for the feeling to pass)#but if anyone's up for me yelling in their dms please let me know#(i never know whether to post these types of things on this blog or the writing blog)#(but i figured i've talked enough about arateph on the main blog to put it here)#(there's an intricate calculus behind these decisions apparently)#(for better or worse this doesn't feel like a writing blog post)
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yandere-wishes · 1 month
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Alice in Marvel-land
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𐙚Yandere! Deadpool (Wade Wilson) x Reader x Yandere Wolverine (Logan Howlett)
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ In some worlds, you were Logan's little darling. In others, you were Wade's starry-eyed lover. But here in the void, there is only one of you and two of them.
⁀➷ GORE, yandere behavior, kidnapping, Deadpool being Deadpool.
⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ IDK, probs the Deadpool and Wolverine soundtrack
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Logan feels the world slipping away.
Piece by piece, atom by atom.
In a blink, he's falling down darkness.
An endless rabbit hole.
What was the name of that fairy tale you liked so much?
The one with the girl who gets lost in splendor?
The dust is kicking up, framing the sunset portrait along the horizon.
The envoys are nearly home, this time they've brought someone back. The cage balls chime along the unsteady road. If you squint just far enough you can almost make out vibrant specks of red and yellow.
Strange, the void tends to wash out bright colors. Well, it tends to wash out just about everything.
You scrape your nails along the skeleton's sockets. Leave crescents in the decaying cartilage. "They're almost here" you call out awaiting Cassandra's next move. You watch dolefully as she's transfixed on a portal. The sparky thing unfurled like a fresh wound, strewing salt on persistent lacerations. She watches her brother, or well some variation of her brother. Surrounded by his new family, surrounded by those he loves. He's forgotten her, or maybe never even knew her. You think that the latter would hurt the most.
"Cassandra" Your voice rises in octave, this time getting her attention. "They're here".
"Coming" She sings, voice so chip it almost sounds like unshed tears. You send a final glare at the portal before it collapses on itself.
If you tried hard enough, maybe you could bring yourself to understand her pain. Those pesky notions of desperation for someone to love. But it
doesn't matter now everyone you've ever loved is dead anyway. And unlike Cassandra, you've long since given up on the childish dreams of being rescued by someone who would offer up love so freely.
"Maybe shut up now"
Logan's nerves are frying. Thin strings snapping with every syllable that leaves the red merc's mouth. He's starting to appreciate Stryker in a way he didn't even know he could. The man was a psychotic sadist but at least he knew when to sew someone's mouth shut. Maybe he can convince this Cassadra chick to do the same.
Logan's eyes are almost at 90 degrees of a roll when they stop. He stops, frozen. In the gaping mouth of the rotting skull, something all too familiar stands.
Or rather someone.
Someone he knew.
Someone he loved.
Your name tastes bitter on his tongue. All death and whisky.
Maybe cause it's been so long since the attack. Since he walked off for the night and left his family to die. Cause the last time he saw you, you were a mangled corpse laying in an open grave. Deadweight as he cradled you in his arms.
You walk closer. Face painted in too many shades of confusion.
Curiouser and curiouser.
Damn, he's started quoting that stupid book again.
"How do you know my name" You ask. You look just as beautiful as he remembers. Spine carved straight in pride with perfect lips, perfect eyes. His talons itch to glide across your soft skin, to feel you so intimately once more.
"LOOOGAN did you see what the bald chick just- HEY!!"
It takes too much effort to pull his gaze away. To stare at red and black and be reminded of cruel realities. But Wade has a tendency to be a persistent ache, some unwelcomed anchor to every problem he's ever had.
Only this time when he actually looks at him. Looks at the jittery body that's stilled abruptly. He can't help but be glad that he did. A bitter laugh bubbles in his throat. Maybe Wade's shut up for good this time.
He always knew you were special but this is truly a miracle.
"IT'S YOU!!"
Nope, didn't work. He knew he couldn't be that lucky.
Wade whispers your name, a forgotten prayer. Logan didn't even know the loudmouth knew how to pray. But he seems to almost soften when he sees you. That feral, cheeky killer, looks so so soft when he stares into your doe-eyes. Reaching out zealously to twirl a lock of your hair around his blood-soaked finger.
He can almost feel Wade choking on your essence, heart erratic, like a child finding a lost toy. He's drowning in ecstasy, and Logan is almost tempted to join him. You're here, a breath away. So close it's taking every ounce of self-control not to pull you to his chest and keep you locked between his arms until he finally dies too.
"Penunt look that's my girl!!"
"Your girl!?"
He had taken you for granted as he tends to do with most peaceful things. The realization had occurred a little too late. Right as he had been emptying a round into the target of the week's head.
He lands.
Arms high like an Olympian pleasing the crowd.
He wonders if he can make you cheer for him.
Clap and shout his name as he twirls around the mess he's made.
He wants to feel loved, although he'll never say it out loud. He's only ever been good with words when they're laced with sarcasm and profanity.
And maybe 'I love you' is just about the most obscene thing he can ever say to someone as sweet as you.
Wade plays the white rabbit, fluffy coat stained red from every kill. Tricking poor Alice into following him down cruel rabbit holes. Making you chase him through labyrinths then leaving you at every turn. He leads you to every kill, makes you watch as he dances in slaughter. He can even feel your eyes right now. Starlight slicing him open to quench vulgar interests.  
Alice always follows the rabbit.
He stalks closer, white eyes fixated on your deliciously bewildered expression. Precious thing caught in a warzone. He can almost taste you on his tongue, the sharp tip of a star slivering the inside of his mouth, soft hands painting crescent moons along the back of his neck. He needs to carve his essence across your lips, to pour the after-kill adrenaline into your soul. He needs you.
Only this time...
This time he'd been too distracted. So caught up in claiming you as his victory prize that he didn't notice the grizzled man clinging to life...
And a pistole.
The bullet punctures his shoulder. An afterthought.
But the lead keeps going.
Penetrating the air until it lands bunglingly between your eyes.
You fall into his arms.
Deadweight.
Did the white rabbit ever miss Alice?
Did he ever realize how truly special such a curious girl made him feel?
He doubts it.
Doubts that a stupid rodent would have better emotional stability than him.
He's been given a second chance. A whole plethora of them actually. He's been deemed holy, righteous. And aren't gifts of marvel bestowed upon the truly blessed? What better blessing than the sight of you standing amongst the sand and skulls?
Good to see your affinity for dainty dresses spans across all universes...
He lets the blood trickle down his claws.
What else is there to do but dream of you?
It's the fourth day of his massacre and he's lost count of how many humans he's killed. Maybe cause after the first hundred the faces tend to blur.
He leaves your pleasants in between the rotting carcasses and broken glass. Only taking the torturous parts of you. The things that can hurt him. The sharp edges that he can slit his pulse point on, the vague memory of your glare before you cried. The soft skin of your neck between his jagged teeth.
Enough to keep the hate burning.
He wonders if the creatures of Wonderland wept after Alice left. He wonders if Wonderland lost its wonder.
But now you're standing here.
Alive.
And he wants so badly to remember the sweet taste of your lips. The soft push against his chapped lips as he swallows you whole. Even desperate rabbits can go a little feral. His eyes take in every breath, every scowl.
Alive.
Alive.
Alive.
Good to see your affinity for dainty dresses spans across all universes...
Aliath skids forward, mystified in lightning and smoke. You feel your bones collapsing under the rugged man's, Logan's, vice grip. You thrash and scream trying to break free but he only barks out orders to his friend before they take off running.
"Your safe, don't worry we got you." There's a comedic cadence to every word Wade says. You can almost fool yourself into enjoying it if the two weren't actively attempting to defy Cassandra, to defy Aliath, to defy deities and absolutes. To ripe you away from the only semblance of opulence you've come to know.
"Let me go, you custome-wearing freaks." His gripe tenses. "Don't struggle so much, we said you're safe, now hold still" Logan's anger ripples through you. It's almost muscle memory to still, to obey.
Did you know him? Know them?
In some past life too out of reach?
The ground shutters to a jagged rhythm. You're flying up, escaping the misty horrors of the ground. Your head pounds with the force, air slapping across your body as you taste the cotton of the clouds between your teeth.
Is this how Alice felt as her head hit the roof?
Wade mutters about the stars and educated wishes. About people who live and matter. Logan slices through his thigh, the mercenary's optimism making his body ring with phantom pains.
No one matters.
And when they start to, they die.
There are cruel absolutes in this world. He's tasted them all. Let them slice his tongue and heart and danced to every tune they've sung. He rips his claws out and digs them into Wade's chest.
Again
And again.  
Wade savors the salty tang of blood inside his mouth.
Licks his teeth and runs his tongue over the gaping holes.
He's sitting in the front seat head rolled back.
High off the blood and adrenaline and the thought of having you so close.
"I take it all back, the Honda odysseys fucks hard"
Bones crack, interrupted mid-heal as Logan turns his head to glare. "Shut up" he rasps and Wade almost, almost, hears approval.
There's a low moan reverberating across the broken car. Late night sleepy mumble that's half 'I love you' and half 'I need you'. Neither one has heard it in such a long time.
"Finally awake sleeping beauty? Kinda surprised you could sleep through all of that" Wade shimmies to the back, only to be greeted by your foot smashing into his face, cracking his nose open, and sending a fresh wave of blood into his mouth. He pins your knee to the seat and wiggles himself between you. caging you with his elbows as he stares down at your pretty face. "Miss me, angel baby?"
"Wrong fairy tale" Logan turns around in his seat, claws out running them across your cheek "Please stop, just let me go" you've never begged before, never fallen so low. But these two things, mutants, mutates, or whatever they are, scare you. Reckless, suicidal, dangerous. You feel so helpless in their presence. Never knowing you're to be kissed or killed.
"You're as lovely as I remember" The melancholy colors him in a monochrome of sympathy. Here is a man who's gone through every horror and still gets out of bed. Or maybe he has to, maybe he can't quite die and can't quite reach heaven. So he gulps down his immortality with black coffee to at least pretend he's being buried six feet deep. "Even after all this time I still love you" You almost melt in his brown eyes. So lonely, so desperate.
Kill or kiss
You want him to do both. Want to kiss extinction on his lips while being impaled by the claws. Kill or kiss.
Both, both, both.
"You know~" Wade pushes himself up, "I think your dress should be red...and black. To match your favorite man."
"Who the hell said you were the favorite?" Wade leans forward, in a blink he's gripped Logan's wrist and lunged the Wolvarine's claws into your abdomen.
You writhe, the bones and metal feel almost heavenly inside of you. When he retracts the claws you moan out, it's too saccharine to hold back. Everything feels so much lighter, colorful. You feel your essence slipping out, gushing over the back seat.
Red waterfall, so pretty.
Dress stained red.
"Told ya so!"
Wade pulls you roughly by the shoulders and smashes his lips against yours. He's so cute, fickle Cheshire cat, tongue dancing across your mouth, slitting itself on your peaked teeth, and filling your mouth with thick red caterpillar smoke. "What the hell is wrong with you? You really are God's perfect idiot" Logan's anger is tangible, sweet, and bitter like hatter tea at midnight.
"S'okay Logan, it feels nice" Your words slur, slipping gauche from your tongue as you giggle profusely. You feel like Alice cracking open Wonderland's ribs, crawling inside, and smearing the wonder across your face.
"When I used to read fairy tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one" You've heard these words before, Alice's words. she's right. Your fairy tale is painted red with pretty, crazy, princes who think that slicing open a princess is easier than kissing her. You reach out for Logan, desperate for a kiss. "eat me" you mutter, and Logan's face morphs into pure terror "Wade what the hell have you done to her?".
"What? It's better this way trust me"
"I hate you"
Logan bends, meeting you halfway. He kisses you with all the wary of a dead man walking. All teeth and heart and bitter memories left to rot three lifetimes ago. He pushes himself between your bones, trying to carve out his ethos in your body. He'd burn the world so long as he gets to keep you.
You squeeze your thighs around Wade's muscular thighs and hips unlocking a gibby giggle from the man. His mask is half pulled up as he trails sloppy fervorous kisses across your neck and chest. The nostalgia slithering under your skin has you squirming, you've been through this all before. In a past life somewhere where storm monsters and voids don't exist. "Remember how good this feels?" Wade mumbles as his fingers dig into your puncture wounds, drawing slow, desperate moans from your puffy lips. You don't dare answer you don't know what would be worst admitting to liking the loudmouth ministrations or admitting there were other versions of you out there, other happy versions.
"Oh for hell's sake," Logan reclines the front seat and shuffles closer. Pulling down the back of your dress. His kisses are bite marks in disguise rabid and feral, the two things the man will never escape. His name rolls across your tongue, you let it slip in an airy moan. "No fair " Wade complains "I want you to say my name too." He pulls out his baby knife and etches the skin of your thighs. Scribbling doodles of stars and half hearts and the little symbol he wears on his belt. "W-wade" you gasp never knowing whether to scream in pain or giggle in bliss.
Logan laughs into your neck. You didn't even know he was capable of such a gentle thing. You bite his lip playfully. Dragging your fingers across his muscular arms. Your thumb pushes into the space between his knuckles asking for the claws. For the most macabre parts of him. You glide your tongue across the parish where flesh meets metal. Kissing the metal and bones and lapping at the blood. Watch curiously as he draws out a long airy sigh. "Good girl" he mumbles voice marred with ecstasy and you almost see the ghost of a smile smear across his pretty lips.
Wade's thumb gently rubs against your hips. Softly usering you into peace, tranquility. Your eyes get heavy, the car gets blurry. The grotesque realignment of their bones steering you into a deep, content sleep.
"Hey Peanut, you think Alice in Wonderland here would mind if we keep going? "  
"Shut it, moron "
"Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if only I knew how to begin.”
🎀Bonus
Deadpool: "Do you think the author's going to write about us again? Or is she planning to finally write that Dune fic she keeps talking about?
Wolverine: "I have no fucking idea what the hell you're even talking about.
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🪐@yandere-romanticaa @bad4amficideas @sugarplumz100 @oscarissac2099 @facelessfionna @siphite @tocotuesday69 @linoleunm @mei-simp @shamelessdarkprince @gabriqllas @lovely-liliacs @shiroi-asashin17 @failinguniversity
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fatuismooches · 9 months
Note
Could you please write about the Harbingers spending time with the reader on their birthdays? But maybe they send what they did with you as a letter to the Traveler like the in-game feature? :D
♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬' 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡
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synopsis: The Traveler naturally expects mail in their inbox whenever the Harbingers' birthdays roll around. However, they didn't expect it to be so... lovey-dovey, and all about you.
includes: all harbingers w/ gn! reader
notes: I've finally finished it! I've been wanting to write something similar to my voice line post for a while, so here it is - the Harbingers sending birthday mail, except they're very down bad for you :3 Includes a letter, a photograph, and attached items with the letter! (Sorry to the Pulcinella fans, I was too lazy to write him in.)
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“Home…”
Sender: Pierro
It is my birthday today. Normally, I would have continued on my day as usual, but [Name] had another idea in mind, going so far as to get the Tsaritsa herself to block the door to my office and then dragging me away. It seems they were planning this for a while… The last birthday I celebrated was the year Khaenri’ah fell. What purpose did today serve when my homeland and people were gone? As the years went on, it began to slip my mind and I nearly would have forgotten the date, were it not for [Name]’s question a while ago. I thought nothing of it, but I did not think [Name] would have taken this so seriously.
They knew I would enjoy anything so long as it was with them, yet they had the entire day planned out. Claiming that I needed some fresh air, we walked through the Snezhnayan streets, the normally biting frost a bit warmer than usual. Casual browsing at some new stores that opened up. [Name]’s attempt at starting a snowball fight. And lastly… grocery shopping.
When we got back, they wouldn’t let me help or look. But I could tell from the smell exactly what they were making. It turns out that they managed to make a dish from my home country. I am not sure how they managed to get a hold of this recipe… I must have mentioned it offhandedly and they improvised from there. Of course, it’s not an exact replica, but nonetheless, it tasted delicious. Just for a few minutes, I was taken back to my previous home. That home will never come back, but I have a new one now.
And now the day is almost over. Despite their best efforts to stay awake until the end of the day, they succumbed to their sleepiness, now lying on my lap. They were supposed to read me something they made, but perhaps I’ll find out what that was tomorrow. 
Tomorrow will be back to normal again. But that is alright. I still do not believe I deserve a day like today but, if this is what [Name] desires, then I shall not refuse them again. I’ll look forward to the next birthday just as they do.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Pierro and you in it. The Harbinger is seated at a table with a homemade dish in front of him. His giant coat and mask are placed off to the side, revealing scars from long ago. You’re glued to his side, trying to feed him by holding the spoon close to his mouth. Pierro is a grown man, the Traveler thinks, he does not need you to feed him… However, he looks quite content with this arrangement so the blonde won’t question it any further. In fact, he looks as if he’s right at home.
Attached Items:
Ancient Khaenri’ahn Dish [A meal unique to Khaneri’ah that has long been forgotten by the world. Although you clearly struggled to make it due to a lack of experience, even the Traveler can taste how much of your love was put into it.]
Khaenri’ahn Story Book [A book that contains numerous fairy tales and various stories originating from the lost nation, written by none other than Pierro himself, and illustrated by you. Apparently, it was born from you begging him to tell you stories from his home, and eventually, the Harbinger began to write them down so you could read them instead of bothering him so often. However, it made the problem worse as now you bother him to read them to you. How sweet.]
“A Day Off.”
Sender: Dottore
[Name] has convinced me to go back to Sumeru with them for a couple of days. I couldn’t care less about this day, but they were adamant about spending the whole day with me, and that they “will not be spending my birthday in a dark gloomy lab again.” 
My research has regrettably halted for a bit, but I suppose this was not a bad idea. This was the first time in many years that either of us had stepped foot back into Sumeru - we had not been back since I was expelled from the Akademiya, besides my segments of course.
[Name] and I trekked the same path we used to walk during our studies at the Akademiya. It was a good spot for studying and conducting experiments without any disturbances - that was until they started following me around. They were a nuisance at first… but eventually, [Name] began to help me deconstruct a variety of machines, which was helpful. And then would laugh at me whenever I ended up breaking them. 
Ever since I met them, [Name] has always said a lot of strange things, but their most recent comment was that they wanted to drink the blue liquid in the vial I carry around. They think it looks… tropical and vibrant. Of course, I refused them. But I had a feeling that if I didn’t provide them with it, they’d try and get it themselves. I was not interested in having to inject an antidote into them, so I came up with a solution.
I know that I am no chef, but this goes outside the realm of cooking. It wasn’t hard to create a sweet drink that would be to [Name]’s liking with the same color. They were more pleased than I thought and demanded that I make it for them more often. I do not care much for nourishment, but perhaps I’ll try my hand at it more often. They have insisted that I send you some, too. So, Traveler, is it to your liking as well? Even if it’s not, I do not care, so don’t bother telling me.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Dottore and you in it. Despite how much the Traveler has explored Sumeru, they can’t seem to pinpoint the location where it was taken. It must really be a secret place, just for the two of you. Dottore’s mask is on his lap, revealing crimson eyes and scarred skin. You seem to have fallen asleep on his shoulder, as your eyes are closed, though your mouth seems to be agape, perhaps mumbling some nonsense in your sleep. Dottore’s expression is exasperated, but there is a certain fondness in his eyes, one that the Traveler can’t distinguish, or rather, they refuse to believe it. Did the Kamera have an editing function now? Because surely, the photograph must have been forged or something, because there was no way The Doctor could ever have such a tender look in his eyes… 
Attached Items:
Strange Blue Concoction [Some kind of legitimate drink that’s the same color as the vial Dottore carries around. According to [Name], it is quite delicious, but would any sane person dare to try anything from The Doctor of all people…? Who knows, these two might be trying to poison the blonde.]
Assortment of Ruin Guard Parts [Parts from Ruin Guards Dottore created and assembled himself. A wide variety of parts are here, including Chaos Cores, Circuits, and Devices. Wait… they seem to all be damaged and broken. Hey, did Dottore just send the Traveler his useless parts?!]
“Care For A Show?” 
Sender: Columbina
Hello dear Traveler! How are you?~ Today has been such a wonderful day. Why, you ask? Because it’s my birthday of course! ♪ The one day when I have the ability to drag my beloved [Name] wherever I want, with no resistance. Normally they protest for quite a bit, telling me I have a mountain of work to do but, they don’t need to worry their pretty little head about that. ♫ Is it that much of a crime to slack off to spend time with one’s beloved? But oh, that little routine of ours is something that I do cherish.
My dearest [Name] took me to a play. We were among the first to see it, as it was the opening day. You know, they always tell me that as a Harbinger, I should be more conscious of how I present myself. But is it really a problem to sit in their lap instead of my chair? It’s not like anyone can see us all the way up on the balcony seats, hmm? ♬ Moving on though~ The play was quite an interesting story. 
It was of an angel who fell in love with a mere human, despite how taboo it was. When the two were caught, the angel had to decide - would she rather retain their purity and remain in the heavens or fall down, stripped of her divinity to be with her human? Well, if you want to see the ending, you’ll just have to come to Snezhnaya and watch it yourself. ♪ But do tell me Traveler, if you were in a situation like that, what would you choose? … I already know what my choice would be.
Ah, but that show was not even the best part! After that, [Name] put on their own performance for me, just the two of us. It was beautiful of course, the way they convey their choice of art is always worthy of praise. But, they always seem to seek my feedback and criticism… they told me they want to keep improving to make me even more pleased but, how many times do I need to explain to them that I already believe their craft is beautiful? Nevertheless, I do indulge them, if only to satisfy my love. Why don’t you take a look at one of our collaborations, Traveler? It is quite good if I do say so myself. ♫
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Columbina and you in it. The lighting in the theater is a bit dim, so your figures are a bit faded but, the Traveler can still make out the two of you. The two of you have separate chairs but, Columbina is practically spilling onto yours, her head comfortably resting against your chest. You seem as though this is normal for you, which it probably is. Wait, is Columbina sleeping? It seems she probably got bored during the intermission… That’s why you specifically chose your clothes to double as a blanket for your wife.
Attached Items:
Music Score [A music score composed by both you and Columbina. The two of you performed it perfectly together as a present to your wife. Of course, it’s bound to be mesmerizing considering Columbina’s participation. So hauntingly beautiful, that in fact, it might end your life before you get to the end… is that an exaggeration? Well, it seems like the Traveler will have to take that risk.]
Pair of Tickets [Tickets gifted to the Traveler and Paimon. There’s no name on it or any expiration date, so it can be used to watch a single play in Snezhnaya for free, with the best seats in-house, so pick carefully. These things are quite expensive, so don’t go losing them now! Otherwise, Columbina and [Name] might ban the traveling duo from the theater…]
“An Excellent Day.”
Sender: Capitano
Today is my birthday. However, I have never been very adept at celebrating this day. I realize that it is the norm to celebrate one’s birthday, but I have never felt the need to. Though, ever since I became a Harbinger, my recruits have always wished me well today. Unfortunately, when the bolder ones ask me what I have planned, I have nothing interesting to respond with, always prompting them to urge me to do something… In the hallways, I always hear conversations along the lines of even though being a Harbinger is busy, I deserve to do something nice on my birthday. But in reality, it does not bother me at all. Is it really that strange not to do anything on one’s birthday?
When [Name] found out how I normally spend my birthdays, they shared a similar sentiment and promised to make this one “the most eventful and fun and best one I’ve ever had.” They said that since this is our first year together, they need to make my birthday an excellent one. Although I tried to reassure them they needn’t try so hard for me, they were insistent. However, true to their word, I would say my birthday did end up being an excellent one.
One thing about [Name] is they never fail to teach me something new. In this case, they taught me what it means to celebrate a birthday, and I’d say I learned a lot. As stated by them, there is no exact or definite way to celebrate. It is what you make of it. And they, knowing the kind of man I was, chose the activities accordingly. (There were a few mishaps but everything went well for the most part. It is not customary to break a few knives while cutting cake, so I feared that I may have ruined things, but [Name] reassured me it was normal.)
So all in all, today was an excellent day. However, I am faced with a problem now. What should I do when [Name]’s birthday comes? Should I do the same thing they did for me? But would they think that is low effort and unoriginal? I do not wish to disappoint them. Traveler, do you have any ideas? Also, please ask Tartaglia for me as well. The last time I spoke to him, he tried to ask me for a duel.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Capitano and you in it. The snowy forest terrain looks as picturesque as ever, but what really draws attention is the man and his lover in the middle. Mostly, the Harbinger who has a squirrel or two perched on him, not to mention the few birds that made their nest in the fluff of his coat. And even some cats? Where did they come from?! Well, it’s best not to question it. It’s rather endearing. Rather, one should question how silent and unmoving the Captain is in an effort to not disturb all the animals. Just ignore the deer in the background waiting for some attention too.
Attached Items:
How To Celebrate Your Birthday Pamphlet [A collaboration between Capitano’s Fan Club and [Name]. The fan club loves you immensely because you help to put their long-awaited plans into action. The numerous activities in this guide (blowing out the candles, feeding each other cake, gift giving, lots of affection, etc) were written out by the club and dutifully carried out by you. There were also birthday punches, but Capitano was confused as to why you were tickling him.]
Capitano and [Name]’s Picture Book [Don’t tell anyone this, but Capitano has a tendency to name all the creatures of the forest near his mansion. At first, he went there to train, but decided against it after seeing all the animals around there, because he doesn’t want to scare them away. What he did not expect was to befriend all of them… you came across him one day talking to them after searching for him. How can he tell them apart? Even you don’t know. But this book is dedicated to all of his animal friends, with pictures taken by you of course. So if the Traveler happens to visit Snezhnaya someday, make sure to be nice to these little guys!]
“They’re Annoying…”
Sender: Wanderer
It is that time of year again when my birthday rolls around. You know very well I do not care much for this day, but once again, there are always annoyances at my every turn… Both Lesser Lord Kusanali and [Name] always prove to be a thorn in my side on this day. In the past, I usually spent my birthdays under the sakura trees in Inazuma, visiting [Name]. But, things have changed now. I no longer am who I once was, and my relationship with [Name] is no longer the same. They have forgotten me, and our past together… but Lesser Lord Kusanali has forced us to interact again numerous times, leading to our current relationship. Lesser Lord Kusanali always pats my back, saying that time will lead us back to each other… how irritating. 
Speaking of her being irritating, she decided to tell [Name] that today was my birthday, a horrible decision. Now, they’ve run all over Sumeru looking for me, until they finally found me in the House of Daena. Panting and gasping for air, all I could hear was them sincerely apologizing over and over for not knowing my birthday. They promised they’d get me a late birthday gift, even though I kept repeating that it was unnecessary. Unfortunately, it has always been hard to get things through their thick skull. All I know for sure is that Lesser Lord Kusanali definitely planned this and that she will tease me to no end the next time I see her… 
Still, they dragged me through Sumeru City. According to them, they knew I wouldn’t like anything too fancy, so they brought me to an alleyway. Your typical textbook dark and narrow one. And at the end were… cats. Many of them. [Name] turned to me with a smile and said they bet I didn’t know about this secret kitty haven, and that it was a perfect gift for someone like me. I do wonder if Sumeru’s sun has made them crazy sometimes.
But, this birthday wasn’t as boring as I thought it’d be. So… that’s nice, I guess. Actually, Lesser Lord Kusanali had assigned me a paper to write. A paper on [Name], on my own birthday. She said that she wasn’t going to read or check it, but it was for my sake. How preposterous, right? How would anything like that help me?
But tonight… I feel as though I’ll make some progress on it.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Wanderer and you in it. The puppet is at the top of the ladder in the House of Daena, searching for books (most likely forced to by the Dendro Archon), but your figure can be made out at the bottom. You seem to be waving and beckoning him to come down, so he can have a good time with you for his birthday. Wanderer doesn’t seem very excited about it, but… he will always indulge you, the person he can’t deny he loves. Hmm? Why is he using a ladder instead of his Anemo powers? Well, perhaps the puppet doesn’t like drawing attention to himself.
Attached Items:
Essay Concerning Inazuman Society and Politics [An essay Wanderer has written during his time spent in Vahumana. What, did the Traveler really think he’d send the essay he wrote about [Name]? However, Paimon couldn’t make it through the title page, and even the Traveler struggled through it. But, it seems to be your favorite essay of his, considering all the notes you made in it, not to mention the noodles you drew when you got bored… Wanderer probably scolded you for that but, it’s never in bad faith.]
Tricolor Dango [A plate of dango that [Name] brought for Wanderer as a treat. It seems that they are unaware of his dislike of sweet food… But the puppet did not want to hurt their feelings considering the thought and effort they put into his birthday, so he did not decline it.]
“A Lavish Tea Party.”
Sender: Sandrone
Unbeknownst to me, [Name] recently had a variety of sweets from Fontaine imported. It seemed like they tinkered with my bots once again, to get them on their side so I would remain in the dark… they can be such a hassle to deal with sometimes. However, this means that their skills are ever improving, as I’ve been improving my Automatons to be much more complex. As expected of my assistant. Speaking of, they’ve also imported some other things that I’ve been wanting for a while. Hopefully, they’re up to standard this time, or they’ll have to be returned. Ugh, I hate dealing with the Ninth whenever that happens…
Though back to the subject, it seems that [Name] has once again needlessly gone out of their way, since today is my date of birth. Although I don’t like being distracted from my research, and I see no need to waste time just because I happened to be born today, this break that [Name] has prepared for me isn’t too bad. I have not attended a proper tea party in far too long. The fools I have for agents can never set it up correctly.
[Name] is not someone who dresses up very often, but they always make the effort to match their attire with mine. Something that other people should learn from, but alas. Though, I wish they did it more often. Not even the most well-crafted doll could match their beauty. Have I told them that? No, they should be smart enough to figure that out by themselves.
Regardless, I must cut this letter short. After this, I want to work on an Automaton with [Name]. I have held off on it because they have expressed interest in it, and since we are together now, it is the perfect time to work on it. I was expecting them to get huffy at me working today, but it seems that they are pleased to work with me. I wonder why.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Sandrone and you in it. A wide array of treats and sweets are plated on numerous platters, along with ceramic tea cups waiting to be filled with piping hot tea. The surrounding robots are also fashioned in a similar style as her, perfect attire for the tea party, holding additional trays of desserts. (Can these robots eat too?) You’re pouring your wife her favorite kind of tea as you’ve already set her plate, while she sits patiently with her hands folded. Despite Sandrone’s doll-like features, one can see a small smile on her face.
Attached Items:
Instructions For A Perfect Tea Party [Sandrone’s set of instructions as to how a perfect tea party is conducted. Some of the rules seem nonsensical and impossible to many, which is why no Fatui agent can ever live up to the Harbinger’s expectations, as she will not accept anything less than what she desires. However, you are the only person who has managed to fulfill all the rules to a tee, which is one of the reasons she greatly favors you. Sending this list to the Traveler and Paimon is also her way of saying they are never invited as they will never be able to fulfill the rules in a way that satisfies her… how rude!]
Clockwork Toy of Sandrone [A Harbinger toy from Leschots Clockwork Workshop in Fontaine. They seem to have dabbled in making toys of the Harbingers as they said they would, and who better to start with than the machinery genius herself? Of course, Sandrone can point out numerous flaws with the design and components, and probably criticized it heavily to you, but you still seem to love it, because it’s of her! Unfortunately, your wife doesn’t like that very much… why settle for something inferior when you could have it in much higher quality? So the Harbinger decided to make a toy of herself that lives up to her standard. The Traveler can have the faulty one…]
“Another Year Passes…”
Sender: La Signora
In the past, I used to be quite fond of birthdays. In Mondstadt, I would always celebrate it with him every year. But after he died, birthdays left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I never dared think about doing anything on this day ever again. How could I, when he was no longer by my side? But today is my birthday again, and I find myself happy. Why? Because of [Name], the person who taught me how to love again. Admittedly, I pushed away the idea at first. But after some more reflection, I decided it wouldn’t be fair to [Name]. The past is the past, and the present is the present. If [Name] wants to make me feel special on my birthday, then who am I to stop them?
And indeed they did pamper me. They always pamper me but, today it was much more than normal. Breakfast in bed, massages, hair brushing, helping me put on my clothes, opening doors for me, fancy dinner and wine after work. I don’t think there was a single moment where they weren’t trying to do something for me. It gave me a good chuckle, which made them embarrassed. But truly, it made me happy. I had… forgotten what it feels like to be cared for on my birthday. It’s a foreign feeling but, I hope that the foreignness eventually goes away after some time.
However, I must tell them that there’s no need to overexert themselves just because it is my birthday. Although I do enjoy the extra treatment, it does neither of us any good for them to fall asleep before the night is even over. But, that’s okay. There is always next year, yes?
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Signora and you in it. You are fast asleep on the Fair Lady’s lap, a peaceful expression on your face. A similar one is on Signora’s, as there is no one else around, and she can let her guard down around you. There are a few of her flame moths scattered around the room as well, a few on the two of you. As her blonde hair spills onto your face and body, one can only guess what she is thinking.
Attached Items:
Tea Break Pancakes [Despite Signora’s history with her home nation, it’s said that she still enjoys the cuisine from there. So, you like to cook her food from there whenever you can. It might not be as good as a professional’s but it provides her a taste of home. A taste of your love, which is her favorite flavor.]
Rose [It’s no secret that roses are Signora’s favorite flower. Beautiful yet thorny, alluring yet dangerous. There are many kinds of roses with all sorts of meanings in this world, but you two have been seen exchanging only one kind - a red one. Whatever could it mean?]
“Birthdays…”
Sender: Pantalone
When I was a child, birthdays did not mean much to me. After all, how could one focus on their date of birth when it seemed like life was full of nothing but curses and suffering? It was only another day of working to survive. But when I met [Name], they changed that. With them, the day began to have… meaning. Purpose. It wasn’t anything grand, but they made it special, distracting me from another day of poverty. Even with their meager earnings, they never failed to gift me something, even if it was of little to no value, or not the best quality… I cherished it. No one else had ever thought of me so much. When I look back, every time my birthday came around again, my love for them only grew more.
Now that we are adults, my only wish is to repay their kindness and spoil them with as many gifts as they deserve. However, there are a few issues with this. There are times I find myself more disappointed with the world than usual because it has yet to create something that would be a suitable gift that would be on par with my love for my dear [Name]. However, whenever my spouse gifts me something, their thoughtfulness never ceases to amaze me. How is it that they always manage to gift me something wonderful and touching? When I questioned them about this, they raised an eyebrow and gave me a strange look. It seems that I will not learn their secret anytime soon. How unfortunate.
Not to mention, dearest [Name] gets upset when I spend “ludicrous amounts of money” (their words) on them, especially on my birthday, so they’ve “forbidden” me from doing so today. They are rather persistent on this, and their long lectures and expressions are rather amusing, so I’ll indulge them… for now. Do you think they realize I’ll just spend double the amount the next day? Regardless, birthdays are always well spent with [Name], and I plan to enjoy this one fully, just as I have in the past because they are the one who makes my birthday a day worth celebrating.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Pantalone and you in it. The two of you are taking a walk in Snezhnaya, browsing stores and the like. Even though it is Pantalone’s birthday, he seems insistent on trying to buy out a few stores for you once again… so in order to prevent him from doing that, you’ve hidden yourself in his coat, stopping him from walking properly. The Harbinger seems rather entertained by your antics and your head popping out of his coat… he should make you do this more often. It’s perfect for head pats.
Attached Items:
Pantalone’s Spare Change [As it is his birthday, Pantalone is feeling more generous than usual, so he is sending a bit of funds to the Traveler. There is no need for any repayment, take it as a symbol of the Fatui’s goodwill. (However, it would do good to proceed with caution… this is the Ninth, after all.) Opening it up, the duo expects to see an average amount of money, but instead are presented with a couple of million Mora… if this is what Pantalone is willing to send to the Traveler, how much does he spend on [Name]?! Paimon doesn’t want to imagine the number!]
[Name]’s Guide to Gift Giving [A piece written by you to detail how you always choose the best gift for Pantalone, unbeknownst to your husband. Opening it up, the Traveler is very curious as to how you manage to win over the Harbinger every time, a man who has everything he could possibly want at his fingertips. But instead, only one sentence is written on the paper - “I don’t know how I do it either.”]
“Appreciation.”
Sender: Arlecchino
Birthdays were not very much celebrated in the House of Hearth, especially when the former Knave was around. However, that changed when [Name] came along. Years ago, I still remember when they gifted Lynette her first tea cup set. Freminet, a collection of spare parts that he ended up using to make another clockwork toy. And probably the biggest hassle… gifting little Lyney a white rabbit. However, I do appreciate my lover’s efforts. The children always look forward to their birthdays much more now, some even going as far as to drop hints about their desired gift and give puppy eyes to [Name] when the time rolls around. I have to remind my children not to get greedy, and to be grateful for what they already have…
I also remember the first birthday they gifted me something as well. A part of me expected it, considering the way they behaved, but still, it was an… unfamiliar feeling, to be gifted something. And, it was also the day little Lyney and Lynette presented their first amateur magic show to me. Of course, they had much to improve on, but looking back it was a suitable birthday gift, considering how much I’ve seen the two grow now. Needless to say, I appreciate [Name] very much, for what they have given me and my children.
My birthday has come once more, and [Name] is celebrating it as they always feel the need to. Really, even if they did nothing, I would still appreciate it, considering all they’ve done. The sweets they gathered this time were exceptional, and we had a lovely chat, before taking a walk through Fontaine. They say that the flowers that grow in the wild are always the prettiest, especially the Rainbow Roses.
Ah, last of all, if you could do me a favor, that would be greatly appreciated. You have been in Fontaine for a while now, yes? It would be a great help to me if you could point me to some good operas. [Name] and I have watched many in Snezhnaya, however, we don’t often have the chance to watch any in Fontaine, with our work and all. Thank you. And please, do not bore me or waste my time.
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Arlecchino and you in it. You two are sitting in a field in Fontaine somewhere, with Rainbow Roses to the side. One of them has been tucked into the Harbinger’s hair, while you seem to be focusing on creating… a flower crown? Despite the pinkness of the rose greatly contrasting with Arlecchino’s whole dark red, black, and white look, she seems to not mind your antics and waits patiently for you to complete your work of art. Of course, as a Fontainian, she knows very well what Rainbow Roses symbolize, and won’t turn down the physical manifestation of your feelings.
Attached Items:
List of Yummy Hidden Gems [A list of great places to buy sweets from in Fontaine, courtesy of [Name], passed on by Arlecchino. Sure, Hotel Debord and Café Lutece do have some excellent sweets, but there are many hidden restaurants and bakeries that provide delicious treats as well! Do stop by and give them a try. Arlecchino favors many of their products. If one needs a similar list for the other nations, do tell.]
Slice of Birthday Cake [An exquisite slice of cake cut from Arlecchino’s birthday cake. She doesn’t care much for the tradition, but [Name] always buys one anyway as an excuse to treat the children from the House to something nice. You know you shouldn’t spoil them so much, but you can’t help it!]
“Splash!”
Sender: Tartaglia
Hey comrade! How have you been? Sorry if my handwriting isn’t the best. I sparred with [Name] for my birthday, and they really roughed me up. Not that I mind, I asked them to go all out. Normally they don’t like fighting with me, because they always insist they don’t like hurting me, but they couldn’t say no to me today. You know, I would like to see the two of you fight. It would be an exhilarating experience.
But anyway, after they patched me up, we took a dive in Fontaine’s waters! You know, whenever I visit Liyue, we often go to cool off in Yaoguang Shoal, but Fontaine’s oceans are so much different. The scenery, the terrain, the greenery, the wildlife… good thing I bought them a waterproof Kamera. Speaking of wildlife, [Name] and I befriended a blubberbeast. [Name] instantly fell in love with the creature, and I feel as though they gave a bit too much attention to it, but, seeing them smile is the best gift I could ever ask for. Maybe I should gift them a plushie of it? However, it is a bit amusing that something that looks as defenseless as that could pack such a punch!
Did you know this, Traveler? Apparently, Romaritime Flowers represent loyalty. [Name] gifted me a bouquet which I was initially confused about since I usually give them flowers instead. But after some quick research, these flowers mean unbreaking oaths. It was a bit ironic really, for I should have gifted them instead as I always swore to be loyal to them, my family, and the Tsaritsa, but it was a wonderful gift. Not to mention the delicious meal they prepared. They’ve been busy researching the best Fontaine recipes for me, so I could make them for Teucer and the others back home, but maybe I should just drag them to Snezhnaya so they could do it instead… I never leave anything but empty plates whenever [Name] cooks for me, but they’ve packaged some for you too, Traveler!
Next time we fight at the Golden House, I’ll bring [Name] along too. Do you think you can hold your own against both of us at the same time?
Attached Photograph:
A picture is included with the letter that has Childe and you in it. You two are under the sea, with a Blubberbeast between the two of you. The creature is nudging you while Childe looks on amused. It seems that it’s been begging for some more attention, food, and head pats. Maybe some tummy rubs too. Apparently, you named it Big Cutie, because well… it’s a big cutie! Unfortunately, it seems to have a little bit of a grudge against the Harbinger because he accidentally attacked it.
Attached Items:
[Name]’s Special Macarons [Rainbow Macarons but with a special twist from [Name]. On the top and bottom of the sweet treat are… faces? Very detailed ones too, with colored hair and eyes! Ah, the faces are none other than [Name], Childe, Teucer, and all of his other siblings! Oh, and macarons of Traveler and Paimon were made as well, how kind! Childe says they’re quite delicious, and he is a great cook, so they must be.]
Freshly Caught Fish [Fish caught by Childe. It seems that the two lovers also went fishing after diving a bit, as one knows how much Childe loves to fish. Sadly, your fishing skills still pale in comparison compared to his and you barely caught anything… That’s alright though! No matter how long it takes, he’ll always happily help you hone your skills!]
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monstersflashlight · 1 month
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To kill a king, to fuck a dragon (Day 8/8 of 10k followers event)
A/N: Hi there people! I’m so, so glad that all of you took time to read all the stories I post, especially these past 8 stories that had been super exploratory for me. I think I did good enough, at least y’all seemed to like it. For this last one I added a bit more plot than usual, this is a tiny bit longer and I think the story is really good. I hope y’all love it as much as I do. Also, and once again, I want to thank ALL OF YOU for following this little corner of the internet and being so supportive and great, special thanks to all my patrons to make my life a little bit easier <3, this has been a blast so far and I hop y’all keep reading, hopefully this account is just the beginning of a much longer exploration of monsterfuckery for us all. (PS: If someone catches the very subtle Grey’s anatomy reference please let me know so we can be friends)
Dragon x fem!reader || size kink, slow-burn (kinda), sex with feelings, magic saliva, spit on pussy, multiple orgasms, overstimulation || tw: mentions of murder
You enter the cave and are surprised to find a door, a normal human door caved into the rock. It looks like a house, a house on the rock, but still normal. What the fuck? Your hopes and dreams of finding the dragon slowly disappear, your eyes teary.
Someone chooses that moment to speak behind you: “Who are you?” You turn around so fast you fall to the ground with a scream. The stranger looks at you like you are a bug he needs to squeeze, and you feel a tear running down your cheek. Fuck. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry even if there wasn’t a dragon. “Again: who are you?” His tone is harsh and you want to cry even more, but you bit your tongue.
“I- I came to find the dragon,” you confess, swallowing around the knot in your throat.
He looks at you like you are a joke, not even trying to help you to your feet. “What dragon?” He asks, his tone amused.
You get up and look at him, trying to look as serious as you can when you say: “They- They told me there was a dragon here.” You fail.
He chuckles, inspecting you up and down, his eyes zeroing on the few tears that escaped your eyes. “No dragons, just me,” he finally answers, his tone a lot softer than before.
“Uh-oh… Sorry. I’ll be on my way, then.” You try to get pass him, sniffling as you do so, trying really hard to get out before you start sobbing.
He sighs, and adds: “do you want some tea?” He offers you his hand, and weirdly enough, you don’t feel threatened or scared, you feel calm around him.
“Really?” You don’t want to sound too hopeful but you are thirsty and tired and you want to cry because there is no dragon and you basically lost hope of everything.
“Yeah, come on.” He motions you to follow him inside the rock house, and you are surprised about how cozy and homey it feels inside, like out of a fairy-tale kind of thing.
He makes some tea as you lean against the door frame of the kitchen, trying to look around as much as possible without looking too snoopy about it. Not that he seems to care that you are curious about everything, he just looks at you every once in a while like making sure you are still there.
“Why were you looking for a dragon?” He asks when he sets the tea cup on the table in front of you. A similar one in front of him. You sit and start sipping on the best tea you’ve ever had.
You sip the tea for a couple seconds, trying to decide if you can trust him, at the end you decide why not, your life is already ruined. “To kill the king,” you say. He chokes on the tea he’s drinking, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop from giggling.
“What?” He asks again when he recovers, his face red from the coughing.
“To kill the king,” you repeat. He still looks stunned so you give him more context: “I- I was bought when I was in the womb. My parents promised me to him in exchange for gold, and the day we marry is approaching. I don’t want to do it, he’s a foul man, and I didn’t choose this. I overheard some servants talking about the dragon in the mountains, and I though… I thought they would help me.” You try not to sound too bitter about it, but you can’t keep the despair out of your voice.
He looks at you like you are suddenly the most interesting specimen of a bug. “You escaped the castle and came here?”
“Yes,” you answer truthfully. There was a lot more implied in that simple question. You escaped, but not only that, they are probably looking for you and the king would probably kill those guards you ran away from. You try not to be too sad about them, they were cruel with you, laughing at you every time you passed, talking about how the king got a new hot wife.
“Are they still looking for you?” He asks, a lot smarter than you give him credit for.
“Probably.” It’s the truth but it still carries a lot of pressure as you say it. You understand though, you know it’s not his problem and you shouldn’t even be there. You’d find another way to escape the king. “I’ll be out of your hair, I promise. You didn’t sing up for any of this.” You realize the sun is setting in the horizon and you don’t know if you could find your way back to the village. Fuck. “I need to go. The village is a long journey from here,” you try not to sound scared, but an edge of fear permeates your voice.
He surprises you by saying: “Stay. I have a guest bedroom and there’s no way you could get back to the village if it’s this dark.”
You want to say no, to refuse, that’s improper, but the idea of going back to that golden prison is enough to make you say: “I’ll leave first thing in the morning.” It’s a promise you do to him, but also to yourself. That man showed you more caress that anyone in your life, and you didn’t want to cause him unnecessary trouble. You’ll leave in the morning.
Problem is… You never do.
The next day he prepares breakfast, and insists on showing you around his house. It’s so beautiful you are mesmerized. His garden especially. It’s so colorful and big and calm…. You feel an instant connection to the earth, and to him. He’s so easy to be around, he treats you so differently like what you are used to. And you like it. You like it so much that you get distracted until the sun is setting once again. And he never tells you to leave.
And days pass. One day turns into another, and you… never leave. You know someday they will come back for you. You know you can’t run away from your problems. But right there, in the side of the mountain with that nice man that took you in… It feels possible to run away. It feels possible to avoid the awful destiny that was set for you before you were even born.
He teaches you to cook, to take care of plants, to polish wood… He’s like a handyman that can do all, and you are his new apprentice, even though he insists on doing all the heavy lifting. But on top of that, he just… amazing. He takes care of you, but also you two argue about stupid stuff until you are red faced and you want to hit him, just to end up laughing when he tells you a stupid joke. You have the most fun you had in ages with him.
Until one day all shifts (pun intended).
You are laying around under the tree as he does some gardening. He wouldn’t let you near the roses in case you got hurt. “I have something to tell you,” he breaks the silence.
“What?” You ask, looking directly at him, a spark of something unknown raising inside of you, like bugs in your stomach, crawling around every time you set your eyes on him, on his beautiful smile.
He looks at you intently and says the most ominous thing: “I- I think it’s better if I show you, actually.”
“Show me what? Why do you sound so serious?” You try to joke, but it doesn’t land because he still looks at you with a poker face.
He looks worried, apprehension settling on his features. “Just… Wait until I’m done to say anything, please?” His tone is more than pleading, is more like he’s begging you to understand, and you don’t know what could possibly be so bad.
“Okay…” You tell him, anxiety spiking.
And then he turns. Literally. His body contorts and cracks, and there’s a bunch of things happening at once, and before you realize, there’s a dragon in front of you. A full on real dragon. What? He’s majestic, as big as a house and skin covered in the most precious scales. He looks like a work of art… you are mesmerized.
“You said there was no dragon!” It’s the first thing out of your mouth, an edge of hysterics creeping in your tone.
You laugh then. You laugh so hard and so much you have tears rolling down your eyes. He changes back, and tries really hard to cover his manhood with his hands, failing and making you laugh even harder.
“You are a dragon,” you say when your laughter dies down.
“I am,” he says simply, approaching you slowly until he’s right in front of you. “And I will kill the king for you,” he adds.
There’s no point in asking why he didn’t tell you sooner, you understand why. Why would he? Why would he trust his deepest secret to you? But him showing you now? It meant more than the world, it made you forget about everything and anything chasing you down. It makes you happy. He makes you happy.
“No. I don’t care about the king. I just… I love you. I think what I feel is love, I never felt like this before.” You tell him, heat creeping up your cheeks. He looks at you like he’s surprised, like he wasn’t expecting that at all. “Do you feel it, too?” You ask shyly, your hand over his chest, feeling his heart beat faster and faster.
“Ye- yes. I love you, too.” His confession is followed by his hands cupping your face, so soft and tender, you feel a tear running down your cheek as he kisses you for the first time.
You should have known better than to think your life could be so perfect.
You don’t hear them before you are captured. At least four soldiers appear at the edge of the garden and catch you before you can scream. You think about him, about your dragon, and lament how confused he will be when he returns and you aren’t there. You worry he would think you abandoned him… But you can’t do anything as they take you away from the only place you felt like home.
They don’t even wait a whole day before they are dressing you and pampering you in the best silks and makeups. Nobody says anything as you silently cry during all the process. The servants looking worried but not arguing with anyone, three guards at the door of every chamber you enter.
You are caged once again.
You walk to the aisle in between a crowded place full of people who don’t like you, nor the king for the matter. They just want to appraise his old self to gain some benefits, the same as your parents did even before you were born. He looks like a nightmare standing in front of the altar, and you want to run, to run far away, back into your dragon’s arms. But you can’t, guards all around the open garden the ceremony is taking place in. You stand before your soon to be husband and have to swallow back the tears and bile, his rancid smell hitting you like a brick.
The minister starts speaking about love and marriage, and you cry during all his speech. You dream of being far away from there, as far away as possible. Or at least as close to your dragon as you could.
When you hear the people mumbling around you, you turn around, a shadow obscuring the sun. You look at the sky and sigh, so happy to see him you could cry. Maybe you would cry if you weren’t so shocked that he actually showed up.
He roars as he lands, people running in all directions, hiding in every possible place. “YOU STOLE FROM ME!” He growls, breathing fire to the sky and making people cry out in fear. You look at him in all his glory, fascinated by every inch of his skin.
“We- we saved the queen to be,” the guard’s words are short lived as your dragon looks at him and breathes fire right over his body, instantly burning him to the ground. There’s a chorus of screams and cries again, and you have to bite your tongue to stop from smiling.
“She’s not yours! SHE’S MINE!” You shiver at his words, feeling them so deep inside you think you might combust, butterflies dancing inside your stomach once again.
“You can’t take her! I bought her,” the king’s words don’t help his case at all, your dragon roaring and launching for him.
It all happens so fast, one second he’s there, and the next one the king’s head is rolling onto the ground as everyone screams and runs away. You are shocked to the core, but he doesn’t let you wallow in that. He picks you up and takes flight. You realize he’s being very careful not to pickle you with his claws. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but soon enough you are in a place you know, a place that brings you memories of joy and love… The garden.
As soon as he sets you down, he orders you to: “Go inside.” His tone is harsh, almost a growl.
“No,” you answer, not recoiling, not moving. You approach him more, your hand softly caressing the scales of his chest.
He roars over your head, trying to scare you away: “Go inside, I’m not in my right mind right now, I can’t answer for my actions.” You aren’t scared of him, though. He saved you from your most fearsome nightmare, he’s just the big monster you are in love with.
“No,” you repeat, a big smile playing on your lips when you look up at him.
“Come on, princess… Please.” Him begging in that form does something to you, such a big and scary creature asking you to go inside so he can protect you from himself… You are more sure than anything that you are safe. Safer than you’d be with anyone else. Human or monster.
“No. I want you. I love you.” Your words finally go through him, making his big body shiver, you feel it under your hands, a big shake that leaves you breathless. “Take me, my dragon.” You know adding that isn’t necessary, but you are more than ready to be a bride, to be his bride.
“Don’t joke around,” he growls, grabbing your body with his big clawed hand and positioning you to look straight into his yes, his big dragon head so beautiful you have to reach out and touch him. He scrunches his nose, making you giggle.
“Make me fully yours,” you say again.
His responding growl is so loud it makes the earth vibrate under your feet. You shiver in anticipation. He tears your wedding dress of your body, wrapping his wings around you to create a bubble, so you won’t feel a single spark of cold in your human skin.
Your wedding dress is torn off your body as he launches for your body, your naked form shivering at the cold temperature around you, but he solves that easily. He wraps his wings around your body getting you close to his much warmer scaled body. You sigh happily.
He lets you down onto the ground and you look up at him, completely vulnerable. “Fuck me. Claim me. Love me.” You lower yourself to the ground, your upper body to the ground, your ass up. You know what you must look like: an offering, a sacrifice. And you are okay with that. You are okay being his.
“You sure?” He asks again, always the gentleman, always worried about you. You are more sure of this that you were about anything else ever.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chant as his claw proves your entrance. You look around in time to see him biting on his fingers, two seconds later he’s claw-less and his now not-dangerous fingers enter you. You cry out and bury your face on the mossy ground, his chuckle making you flush all over.
He plays with your pussy for what feels like an eternity, making you come twice before he starts stretching you fully. He gets to three fingers, way bigger than anything you tried before, and you can’t stop moaning.
You come again as he spits on your pussy, the sensation so filthy and so good you scream and fall over the edge again. You feel tingly all over after that, your pussy relenting under his ministrations and somehow widening further, accommodating one more of his fingers. “My saliva has magic in it,” he explains, his tone amused as he keeps finger fucking you. You don’t know if you can come again, you didn’t even know that much pleasure was possible.
“Come on, come on, please,” doesn’t matter how much you beg, he doesn’t relent.
He starts scissoring his big fingers inside of you, stretching you impossibly wide, and you squirm under him, a pleasure so big you don’t know how to deal with it, your body pliant under his actions, your brain completely void of thoughts. And then he stops and you curse him so loud he starts to laugh, moving your body and making you squirm under him. He grabs your hips to stop you from moving and you feel the tip of his cock against your entrance.
He enters you slowly, so slowly. You want to scream, but your brain is frozen with the over-sensitivity of his dick inside of you. He can’t fit inside, there’s no way, he’s probably just aiming for a third of his length, but right now, with just the tip inside, you feel like you are about to burst. You reach down and rub your clit, unlocking something inside of you and crying out so loudly he roars as your orgasm makes your pussy constrict around him. He pushes in a bit more, and you keep coming.
From that point on, it’s all a blur of sensations and emotions, so much pleasure you are blind to the world around you. His dick is barely inside, but it seems to be enough for him, and more than enough for you. You feel like he’s going to split you in two in the most amazing way. He feels so big inside of you that you think you might die if he keeps rubbing against all your special spots at once. And if you do… You’d die happy.
“Take me. Take all of me,” that’s all the heads up you get before he’s filling you, one last thrust inside before his hot seed floods your insides. It propels you over the edge one last time, the world fading into blackness.
You pass out.
When you come back to your senses, you are laying on a bed and there’s a warm body behind you. You sigh happily as he kisses your forehead and makes sure you are comfortable and warm. You feel such intense love for him in that moment, that you have to turn around and try how well it would feel to fit his human dick inside of you (this time all of him).
He feels perfect.
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cute-sucker · 2 months
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you loved your little routine with rafe
it always included a quick snuggle with him in your bed before he went to work. most of the time you would hope that he wouldn't leave to early before you could kiss him softly. he would always scrunch up his eyebrows before giving you scowling and tell you to stay safe. after that he'd put on his sunglasses and off he was. you felt like a real housewife as you leaned against the patio railing, watching his truck become smaller and smaller. you would stay there for a while, soaking up the fresh air in your white bathrobe.
really, the morning kiss was one of the reasons you woke up to see him go.
there was something soft about the way he looked at you in the morning. it was all creases and a low murmur about being late to work as you scrambled to get him closer. after that he'd open his steely eyes, and then chuckle to himself—you'd be stuck to him so close that he couldn't barely move.
then the two of you would brush your teeth. you'd glance up at him, his focused face as he furiously scrubbed. he would always look at you earnestly as if he was sneaking small looks. you would always catch him and laugh wide with toothpaste in your mouth. then rafe would grab you and tell you stay still while he changed. there would be this relaxed look on his face as if he couldn't believe what he was in.
obviously, you'd be doing your skincare routine before he popped in again, as you gently rubbed at your face before seeing the way he was wearing his work polo, and a easy going smile on his face.
then came the part you liked the most. the part where it felt like it was a fairy tale. the part where your heart was swiped off the floor, as you would pucker up your lips, on your tippy toes as he gave you a gentle kiss. he would taste all minty, and as you grabbed him to get him closer to you—he'd groan in your mouth. he was all yours, and just like clockwork, the dominoes cascaded in a line as you got what you wanted. it was the life you had always wanted.
now the morning kiss was important. it was something that needed to be in your routine. or else you felt everything else would come falling down. and that all started with the morning things went wrong. you wake up finding his side of the bed cold, soft creases on the comforter next to you, and you felt like throwing up. as you got up, you spot him.
he was grinning at you, "sleeping beauty is awake. did you, uh, get enough sleep?"
you gaped at him, before putting a reassuring hand on your chest, "what are you doing?"
he gave you a confused look, while tucking his coller. you felt all stuffy in bed with your hair stuck up as he walked in circles getting ready.
"shit, don't worry about it. i'm just getting ready to go do some business," then he smiled, kneeling down to brush a tendril of hair out of your face, his voice a gruff whisper, "i'll be back soon. alr' get your nails done or whatever you want." then rafe grabbed some money off the dresser, and then gently put it on your makeup table.
then he was gone.
and from there on the whole day went wrong. or at least thats what it felt like. you stubbed your toe on the way getting up, ran out of flour to make pancakes. you lost your favorite gym set, and then after your favourite nails place was shut down. to make things worse, the women at the ice cream place gave you one scoop instead of the two scoops you desperately needed.
you came home tired, heaving as you put your bags down. nothing was right. everything felt wrong. you jumped onto the couch, staring at the celling, and somehow you felt your fingers travelling to your lips that never got the kiss you had every morning. it was a far stretch you knew, but somehow you felt emptier not spending the morning with rafe.
as the minutes ticked by, you found yourself pacing the living room, unable to sit still. you needed to see rafe, you needed him to put his arms around you and kiss your forhead. just as you seem to get ready for bed, you heard the familiar rumble of his truck pulling into the driveway.
you rushed to the window, peering out to see him stepping out of the vehicle. Relief washed over you, but it was tinged with frustration from the day's chaos.
the door opened, and you heard rafe's steps as he walked up the stairs. he walked in looking tired, but his face lit up with a smile when he saw you. “hey, sweetheart,” he said softly, setting his keys down on the table.
and just like that everything came crumbling down, "rafe. everything went wrong today. it was awful," you murmered, and suddenly you crossed the room to wrap your arms after him. he rubbed your back gently, jerky motions as he played with the strings of your hair.
he pulled back slightly, looking down at you with concern. “what happened?”
you recounted the day's mishaps—the stubbed toe, the lack of flour, the missing gym set, the closed nail place, and the disappointing ice cream. as you spoke, he listened intently, his thumb gently rubbing your back. but the more you talked, the more petty you felt, until finally, you blurted out, “and all of this happened because you didn’t kiss me this morning!”
rafe blinked, taken aback. there was a cruel quirk in his mouth as he tilted his head, “do you hear yourself? that sounds crazy. you think everything went wrong because i didn’t kiss you?"
"yes!” you exclaimed, even though everything in you was screaming no. it was just a bad day, you knew it but you ruined it. now you could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “our routine got broken, and it just set off a chain reaction. that kiss... it’s like my good luck charm. without it, nothing goes right.”
"jesus," he looked tired looking back at you, "alright now. i promise i won't skip it. i swear i'll kiss you every morning," then he tilted your chin trying to look at you properly. you felt a bit stupid, biting your lip.
you nodded, sniffling a bit. “i'm being silly. sorry. i just needed something to blame and that just happened to be you.” now you felt even worse, looking at him for the green light.
"arh, listen now, i'm gonna turn on the tv and we're gonna order some food and forget about this, okay? it's stupid," he groaned, before pulling you in closer.
"you wanted a kiss?" he grumbled, "heres a kiss."
then he pulled you in, and you felt all of your worries float away.
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