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aurora-darling · 2 months

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Lost to you - part 2

Halsin x F!Tav

more confession story time cause this man is romantic in my mind :>

NSFW warning: adult themes, gender oppression, and some lustful moments.

The city was a place Halsin could never get used to.

He was the archdruid of the Old Oak Grove and spent his entire life in servitude. He would keep close to nature, his spirit tied to the wild. He would venture out into the forest, shedding his mortal form and taking the shape of a bear. Halsin could recall countless times when he wouldn’t see a single soul for days, almost weeks at a time. He would lose himself in the tranquility of nature, his primal instinct taking charge. He felt wild and free, a true Ursidae. He would never give that up.

Until you.

And now he was in love.

Halsin carried on his travels with you, his heart breaking over the thought of leaving you. He felt the need to protect you, to take away your burden, and give you the relief you gifted him. You continued to astound him, his heart growing fonder of you each day. You were a saint in his eyes and he wanted to worship you. His mind was occupied daily with thoughts over you, your hair being his favorite. He would sit at his tent, his small dagger in one hand, his wood carving in the other and observe you. His body would remain still, his eyes looking under his brows. He would watch you laugh and speak with your companions, his eyes coated with desire and admiration. Your head would lean back and he would watch the curls bounce along your back as you giggle. He would groan and continue with his woodwork. What he would do to get you to laugh like that with him. With you alone with him.

Your hair enveloping your head like a fiery halo as he lays you down.

Your gray eyes yearning for his touch, his body leaning over you.

That sweet little whimper you let out when he-

Halsin snaps back to reality as he narrowly avoids a cart, his heart beating fast as he huffs to contain himself. His distraction had caused him to walk blindly along the street. Halsin smoothes his hair over his head and apologizes to the merchant, his head bowing slightly. His chest fills with anxiety as a troupe of travelers pushes past him and a few of them shout in elvish over his abnormal height. He sighs as he realizes he's lost your group and scours the crowd for you. His heart beats faster as he pushes his way through others, his eyes searching for you. He couldn't lose you now, not after he gained your trust. He had so much more to tell you, to share with you. He couldn't lose you now.

And then,

There you are.

His savior, the one to bring him back to life. He had spent the last few weeks following you like a puppy, soaking any attention you could give him. His heart ached at the number of times he turned you away, his focus entirely on the curse. He had played the role of a servant, his dedication to Silvanus unwavering. He could smell your desire, the scent of your sex enveloping him as you continued to flirt with him daily. He would shake his head and apologize, he couldn't distract himself. What if Thaniel perished because he became selfish? What if the curse spread? The number of lives it took already? His soul was in anguish.

But now that the curse was lifted, Halsin found himself absolutely enamored with you. He wore his desire on his sleeve now, his confession the other night broke down his walls. He loved that you trusted him, he could feel you wanted him. You did, didn't you? Halsin shook his head as he rubbed his temples. He had refused you so many times leading up to now that he was sure you had moved on. Halsin’s eyes roam your deep emerald robes, your hair cascading down your back. His face flushed at the curve of your back, the beautiful shape of your hips. He chuckles while he watches you stroll through the shops, your eyes lighting up over and over. You were amazed at the jewels, your angelic expression melting the merchant's heart. He breathes in deeply, the sight of you bringing him peace. Halsin shakes his head lovingly and feels his face aching from the strain of smiling. He watches as you bargain with the merchant, your hand holding out the small coin purse as you haggle a price. He chuckles proudly, watching his little firebird get what she wants.

Halsin crosses his arms over his chest, his height towering over people as they walk past him. Normally his ears would pick up when people whispered about his abnormal appearance but this time his attention was focused on you. His sweet little enchanter with fiery red hair. He watched as you gasped over the selection of oils, your eyes wide as you begged Wyll to agree to another purchase. He watches as you touch Wyll's arm and jump excitedly. Halsin would give anything to have you look at him like that. To look at him with such reverence would make him want to swear his life-long loyalty to you then and there. He laughs to himself, he feels like a love-sick fool.

“See something you like?” Halsin tensed as he heard the vampire talking beside him. He didn’t sense him approaching. His eyes looked at Astarion, the slender elf smirking in your direction. Halsin closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, he wouldn’t play Astarion’s game. “What do you want?” Halsin asked, his brows lowering as he continued to observe you. He believed you when you insisted the vampire was trustworthy but still found the vampire to be annoying. “My, my touchy are we?” Astarion pretends to be hurt, his hand waving at Halsin. “I was just curious my dear. You’ve been smiling in that direction for a while now.” Astarion smirks as he continues to amuse himself, his fangs slowly presenting themselves. “I sense you see something you want, maybe even to taste.” Astarion smiles at his sly remark, his scarlet eyes looking toward Halsin. “City life is new to me. I am simply taking it all in.” Halsin responds and clears his throat. "City? This place? No, no." Astarion shakes his head and points to the shore. "There are places larger than all this, this place is nothing compared to actual cities." The vampire smirks and notices Halsin's eyes still observing you. "Question, druid." Astarion steps forward and skips a stone across the road. "Do you officiate weddings? I wonder if you do-" He pauses to stare at Halsin's expression. "Would you officiate theirs?" Astarion says and points in your direction as you browse the shops with Wyll. Halsin looks to Astarion, his face twisted in confusion. "A what?" He asks, his arms crossed over his chest in frustration. Any more of this and he might exorcise this vampire right here. "You see how they're acting. They're fucking, that's obvious. But Wyll is a gentleman and feels like he has to marry anything he cums in." Astarion shrugs, his face in a twisted grin.

You look up and see their eyes on you, your body standing still. “Any trouble?” Wyll’s attention is on you as he brings supplies over, his expression a look of concern. You shake your head and sigh, knowing Wyll would sense if you lied. “Same ol’ thing.” You look back at Halsin, who was now holding his hand up to Astarion. You could see Halsin’s nostrils flare as he rolls eyes, his attention on quieting the relentless pale elf. “That’s what I worry about, Lena.” Wyll sighs and stands next to you, his gaze watching as Halsin shakes his head, stepping away from Astarion. You nod, your thumb rubbing your temples as you feel Wyll nudge your shoulder. You look up and see him nod in Halsin’s direction. “Maybe you should check on him,” Wyll suggests as you watch Halsin through the crowd. You close your eyes and ask for a blessing from the Great Mother. “Keep Astarion out of trouble.” You ask and rush to your archdruid.

You maneuvered your way through the mob, your voice calling out to Halsin. He kept moving, his pace never slowing. You try to keep up with him, your voice pleading as you try to avoid the flocks of refugees.“Halsin, please. Slow down.” You ask and squeeze your way through to try to stop him. You can sense his disdain for the city the way he ignores others, their insults and comments not affecting him. You roll your eyes as you huff and walk faster catching up to him. You reach out and grasp his hand, pulling him around to look at you.

“Halsin, stop. You have to stop.” You speak softly, pleading with him. You frown at the sight of him, you can sense his grief. His shoulders are low, his eyes glazed as he looks through you. He kept his chin lowered, his lips turning down at the corners. His hands held his quarterstaff loosely, almost like carrying it was a burden. “Ursidae.” You call out to him, his lips almost forming a smile at your voice. He sighs and finally speaks, “I can’t continue like this.” He admits staring at his knuckles, his grip tightening. Your heart pains at the thought of his spirit in such turmoil. Stepping forward, you reach out to touch his chest but stop as several citizens walk between you. Halsin moves his attention to several merchants arguing loudly with customers, his annoyance returning. He shakes his head in frustration, his small braids falling across his shoulders. "Lena, do you want-" He tries to speak again and is interrupted by a group of refugees as their packs bump and push you forward. Halsin groans in frustration and grabs your hand, his touch warm and gentle. He held your fingers delicately, his body walking in front of you. He protected you from others and guided you up a path, under a tree.

Halsin dropped your hand and propped his weapon against the stem, his expression solemn. He turns to look at you, the usual hopeful glow of his eyes is gone. He sighs before continuing, privacy allowing him to speak confidently. “I have been a follower of Silvanus all my life and it has been a long one. I have dedicated my whole life and-” He says as he leans forward, pounding his fists into his chest. “I have saved many and even sacrificed some in his name. I have followed blindly for many years. I gave so much.” He cries out, his eyes looking at the tree above you. “And for nothing! I wasted years for nothing!” He shouts and kicks the trunk, his leather boots making a thud. “I denied love and it was for nothing. Nothing has changed. Mankind is still the same and nothing changed at all. I missed out on so many things, I missed out on you and now you're with-" He stops as he looks down at his feet.

You step forward and Halsin turns his attention to you, his heart swelling at the sight of you, a vision of Sune herself. Your red hair is decorated in honeysuckle. His eyes observed you lovingly as he knew you wore those flowers for him. Your robe was a deep emerald green, with gold embroidery lining the hem. Your wrists were adorned with several bangles, all gold and in different textures. You tilt your head and his heart skips a beat. “How can I contain myself when you look so lovely?” Halsin mumbled to himself and sighed deeply, letting his breath out slowly as he found the courage to continue. You wait patiently for him to speak, your hands clasping the sides of your robe. “What I am trying to say is that I was naive in thinking nature and mortals could come together as one.” He says, his eyes pleading with you. “The closer I get to the city I see how ignorant I was. All the orphans, the refugees. Mankind turning away the oppressed, it’s mad-” He keeps his hands at his sides, the wind slowly blowing the tiny shells in his hair. His nostrils flare as he keeps his brows low, his stare intimidating. You can feel the soft breeze blowing as well, small strands of your curls brush your cheeks. “Like that poor girl. Yes, we can offer her refugee but what about the others? There are so many others Lena. And they’re all suffering. Not just one.” Halsin continues and rubs his face in frustration, his eyes looking for your other companions. Halsin would have no patience for any other company than yours right then.

You can feel his pain, the heavy burden of trying to save Toril taking a toll on your protector. He crosses his arms over his chest and sighs, looking down the hill at the rural town below. “The measure of a civilization is how it treats its weakest members.” He says plainly, his eyes observing the guards. You smile at him, this colossus of a man carrying the world on his shoulders. You smile and raise your eyebrows lovingly, you know how to relax your giant. “I agree.” You say and pull a piece of dried foliage to run through your fingers. “However.” You look past Halsin and to the coast, the sunlight causing your grey eyes to shine almost silver. “I think there’s hope.” You say, your gaze looking back at his. “It’ll take time but there’s hope.” You can see his eyes holding back tears as his head leans back in a sigh. “Yes. Hope for another day I suppose.” He replies, his boots tracing a shape in the dirt. You watch as he draws a similar shape to the one he decorates his cheek with.

You both stand in silence and hear the wind blow through the tree, its leaves falling around you. Halsin leans against the trunk, his focus on the branches above. “It went on for so long I almost-” He hesitates before he continues, his hands picking up his staff as he swings it slowly in his hands. “I almost forgot the purpose it gave me.” He pauses again, his eyes avoiding your gaze. He fought back the need to be strong in front of you, the need to avoid being seen as weak. “I must find a new one.” He huffs at the guards pushing a citizen from the gate, his nose scrunching in disgust at their behavior. “See Lena?” He points toward them, his expression now of disappointment. You stand still, your heart now swelling with guilt. You had agreed to help Halsin with his task, but you never truly asked Halsin to join you on yours. He had followed you to Rivington after lifting the curse, but you both had yet to discuss the future. Halsin could feel the fear of departing from you building in his heart, and so could you.

“I’m sorry.” You spit out, your face leaning toward the ground. “This doesn’t have to be your fight, you know?” Your close your eyes, and feel your throat swell at the pain from holding back tears. “I know city life isn’t meant for you and you don’t want to be here I know-” You continue speaking, unaware of your gentle giant walking toward you. You breathe in sharply and scratch your brows the pain of holding back tears feels overwhelming. You finally let go and feel tears pour down your rosy cheeks. Halsin shakes his head and leans his face down to yours. “Lena.” His voice is soft and gentle again, and the corners of his eyes wrinkle as he smiles. “I would not be here if I didn’t want to be. You know this. I owe everything to you sweetheart, don't cry.” His hands touch your shoulder, his scent of pine and musk flooding your nostrils. He kisses your forehead and you laugh back a sob, your diaphragm betraying you as you hiccup.

"Don't cry my dove, I would follow you anywhere." Halsin chuckles, his tone cheerful and warm. “There is nothing you need to apologize for. I am disappointed in mankind, not you.” His fingers lift to stroke your cheek, your face blushing from his touch. Halsin smiles, his heart beating slowly from the sweet look in your eyes. His mind went over thoughts of you staring at him with admiration, your face lighting up when he entered your presence. He recalls the bashful look you had when Astarion teased you about the ‘big hairy wild man’ and his heart would skip when you spoke. Your beautiful face was hidden in your hands as you denied the vampire and pleaded to change the subject. Halsin would do anything to keep you like that forever, to see him as a champion, a true guardian of nature, someone you adored.

“How do you do that?” He asks, his fingers tracing your cheek. “How do you-” He smiles down at you and places his other hand on your hip. His fingers can feel the silk of your robe, the beautiful emerald aglow in the sunlight. “How are you able to stir my heart so easily?” He glides his thumb under your eye, his hand holding your face. His pointed ears wiggle as he feels nervous. “No one, not in years has been able to make me feel this way.” Halsin chuckles, his eyes watching your robe flowing in the wind. His heart beats faster, his intent on confessing his love to you. “I’ve lived a long time. I haven’t had anyone, not a single soul make me feel so alive.” His voice lowers as he moves his hand up your side, his fingers tracing the embroidery of your garment. “And no one has enchanted me the way you do.” He adds, his green eyes shining brightly. You close your eyes and feel Halsin lift your chin to face him. “Look at me, little duck. I need to see you hear me.” He tells you gently, his voice never demanding. Halsin would never command you, never force you into submission. You felt powerful with him, you felt safe. “I’ll bet you don’t know how truly extraordinary you are.” His voice is tender. Halsin notices your body shiver from the sound of him, his eyes blinking slowly. You open your eyes and lean against him, his thumb grazing your bottom lip. “Color of Blingdenstone Blush.” Halsin mumbles, comparing the color of your lips to wine. You push your tongue to his thumb, your senses overwhelmed by the salty taste of his skin.

“I can’t take it much longer. I want you.” Halsin whispers, unaware of the group of travelers passing you by and whispering to each other. They stopped to observe you both as images of the Dryad and her Woad. You ignored them as well, your gray eyes focused on him, his thumb caressing your chin. “What do you want?” You whisper back, your eyelids blinking slowly as you lean against his chest, your hands resting at his shoulders. Halsin breathes in sharp, your robe slipping just enough to show your cleavage. His nose is flooded with the scent of you, the mixture of your sex and honeysuckle setting his desire aflame. His eyes glow a bright green, his head leaning to the side as he lends in to sniff your hair. “I want to lie naked with you under the stars and be one with you. Completely. Your body against mine. Lena, I want to taste and touch every part of your naked body. I want to worship you, submit to you, give myself entirely to you.” He looks down at you, his glowing eyes taking in every curve of your body. "I need to have you but I will not force you. I want to hear you say it. To give me permission to have you." He sighs from his abdomen, his primal lust almost overwhelming. You feel your teeth rake over your lip, and your muscles tighten as your undergarments become coated in clear fluid at the sound of his voice and his words.

“Halsin.” You moan, your body responding to his touch. The perfect image of Silvanus and Chantea. Of Oak Father and Mother of all Flowers. Halsin smiled and continued to comb his fingers through your hair, his large hand cupping the back of your head. He couldn't help but hold you tighter, you were so beautiful in the sunlight. He would give anything to hear you speak his name with such passion, such desire. He looks behind you, Wyll and Astarion still have yet to find the two of you.

Halsin smiles and slowly looks down at you, his goddess melting at his touch. “Little dove, this is where you tell me you feel the same.” Halsin’s focus is on your mouth, your lips curving into a flirtatious grin. He has calmed since his confession, the weight lifted off his chest almost euphoric. Halsin rocks you gently against him, his gaze looking up for anyone spying on you two. “Oh?” You tease, your eyes lowering to his chest playfully. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.” You jest and look up at him slowly while moving your hands across his brawny chest. You can feel the intricate leatherwork on his druid armor, the symbol of Silvanus proudly displayed on his collar.

Halsin huffs playfully, his fingers lifting your chin up as he lowers his face to yours. You could see the metallic red of his war paint glitter in the sunlight, the wind blowing loose strands around his face. You giggle as he hovers his mouth over yours, his lips smiling as you stare into his eyes. “I think you do, why else would you care if I had a lover before?” He whispers but hesitates from kissing you, his eyes searching for your approval. You feel him lean back from you, his hands now at your shoulders. "Tavlena. Please tell me if I'm wrong." His forehead crinkles at the thought of rejection, the thought of you saying no, thoughts of you with another. Halsin sighs and hears Astarion's words again, his heart breaking at the thought of your union with Wyll.

"Tell me you want this life. To live in the wild, to be free. That you would never live as a slave to a man. As a wife in some far-off city? His little heir producer? Give him children after children until you have a son. Girls are nothing to them, your daughters will grow to do the same as you. Generations of women kept as breeding stock. Chantea's blood runs through your veins, Lena. You are a priestess, her daughter. You are so much more than a housewife." He protests, his hands clasping together, and continues to plead with you. "Please tell me what you want. I'll respect it, and leave it be. I will not ruin my friendship with you, just tell me."

Halsin's eyes look into yours for an answer. You can see a small shadow of doubt behind his piercing eyes. “Just tell me, please Tavlena. Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll stop. I just need to know if I have a chance.” His body leans away from you as he takes your hand in his and kneels before you, his face looking up at you with reverence. You smile down at your gentle giant and lean down to kiss his cheek. “You’re crazy if you think I wouldn’t want you.” You confess and lean your forehead against his. You hear him sigh in relief, his arms warping around your waist. “I wanted you for so long. Ever since the tiefling party I've felt like a love-sick fool." He laughs and looks up at you, his expression finally a happy one. You smile back, his large hands arms holding you close. You run your fingers over the length of his elvish ear, the tip a rosy pink. “Lena.” He whispers, his smile big and bright. “Mhm?" You mumble in bliss, your fingers playing with his braids. You shiver as he speaks.

“I need to see you tonight.”

#bg3 x reader #bg3 halsin #halsin x reader #halsin bg3 #halsin the druid #halsin x tav #halsin smut

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enviedear · 1 year

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you're in the wind, i'm in the water ⟶ anakin skywalker

description ⌙ having to flee your home to be under the watch of the jedi knight anakin skywalker, you attempt to form some semblance of happiness, despite his cold demeanor. pairing ⌙ anakin x female princess!reader warnings ⌙ mentions of food and eating, but i think that's all. lmk if i missed anything. word count ⌙ 2.5k

canon means little to me lmao, so read as you wish, but i'm in my anakin renaissance so pls feel free to flood my inbox with any and all things him <3

— join my taglist | request | masterlist

he was strange. that was the word you decided upon. this jedi knight sent from coruscant to protect you.

he watched you, so intently, and you tried to chalk it up to the protection order— but no guard under you before had been so keen on your every breath. so you sat, silent in the study of the safehouse, watching the small fire begin to ember out from its setting and trying to ignore his blue eyes cast down at you.

anakin, that's what jedi obi-wan had referred to him as. when you first heard it, you told him it was pretty. his simple thank you reply seemed fitting at the time, but now, you're almost sure that you must have offended him.

the room settled into a stillness that felt almost oppressive as anakin's eyes bore into you. you left your thoughts of him to refocus on the burning wood, only to stare down at a now lifeless fire. it was as if the flames had mirrored your own sense of isolation, flickering out, leaving you in the dark.

reaching out for more firewood, your hand is abruptly halted in mid-air. you look up to find anakin standing right in front of you, his eyes darkened by the dim light. his voice was low and laced with a hint of frustration. "it's nighttime, princess."

he releases his hold over you, fueled by the force, and you let out a sigh. "i'm sorry. time just slipped my mind. you must be tired."

he responds with a curt huff, his emotions hidden beneath the veneer of his jedi training. you gather your belongings from the study and follow him in silence to your room. this had become a ritual ever since the protection order had been enforced.

for months you have been walking on what seemed to be a very thin glass when around this strange man.

back on your home planet, you were surrounded by loving handmaidens who attended to your every need, engaging in heartfelt conversations, and showering you with affection. but on this mostly deserted planet in the far reaches of the outer rim, anakin was your sole companion. he didn't dote on you, he rarely engaged in conversation, and there was an undeniable absence of warmth in his demeanor.

you missed home desperately—your land, your people, your family. you harbored a deep resentment for the enemies who had invaded and devastated your world. they had stolen everything from you, and in this unfamiliar place, you felt anything but safe.

as the two of you approached your door, you hung back, allowing anakin to check the surroundings before you entered. "it's safe," he announced, still avoiding eye contact. "princess."

you settle onto your bed, now surrounded by your books from the study. anakin's gaze fixed on your collection. you ventured, your voice barely above a whisper, "would you like to borrow some?"

his eyebrows knit together slightly, prompting you to continue. "some of my books? i've noticed you looking at them often."

finally, his eyes met yours. "i'm okay," he replies, and then turns to leave. just as his hand found the doorknob, he adds, "i'll come to fetch you in the morning."

you didn't respond, simply watching him exit and swiftly locking the door behind him. anakin was a puzzle you couldn't decipher. none of your parents' guards had ever acted this way. formality, you were accustom, but this level of rigid apprehension was an entirely new experience.

when you'd first arrived, you had tried to establish some sort of friendship. you were adept at navigating social interactions, having been by your parents' side for political matters since the age of fifteen. you had dealt with all kinds of people—brash, rude, insincere, and kind. but this jedi, anakin, he was unlike anyone you'd ever encountered.

he never strayed far from your side, except for when he slept, yet he managed to disappear into the shadows of any room. even outside, during the few hours he allowed you to venture out, you could feel his presence, his watchful eyes bearing down on you. it was as though you were a gilded prisoner, trapped with a hungry beast waiting for you to falter.

as you drifted into sleep, uneasy thoughts flooded your mind, pushing you into a restless slumber.

the next morning, anakin knocks at your door. he has a signature four knock, with the last being far louder than the others. you assume it's for safety but he's never let you in on the security protocol.

you've been awake for a few minutes and have already dressed, but you take your time before opening your door for him. it was the small things, small rebellions, that you enacted in a diminutive display of mutiny.

"princess." his greeting feels icy cold, despite the adherence to common decorum.

"jedi," you reply, your voice unexpectedly fiery. you had yet to openly express your displeasure with him, but the way his lips twitch for a fraction of a second made you want to challenge him further.

you'd endure anything if it meant he'd stop being so inscrutable.

anakin motions for you to lead the way, and you do, heading toward the small dining room. the table is set with two bowls of porridge placed on opposite sides. it was the same every morning. initially, you had attempted to convince him to let you prepare the food, but he'd stubbornly resisted. perhaps he thought this was the way you were used to, or maybe it was a method of control in his mind. whatever it be, his enforcement of such behavior had grown tiresome.

you found your seat and tried to ignore the weight of his gaze as you ate. the food was plain, but you wouldn't dare complain. perhaps out of fear, maybe a lingering threat that he might lash out, although he never had. but you could feel it—your fear.

anakin was an enigma, unlike any jedi or man you had ever met. despite being only a year apart in age—you, freshly twenty, and he, a young man of twenty-one—he seemed worlds apart from anyone you'd encountered before.

you were nearly finished with your meal when he interrupted your thoughts. "we're running low on food and supplies. you'll accompany me to the market today."

his voice was soft, in stark contrast to his nature. "the market?" your question feels foolish as it escapes your lips, but you don't care. you have no knowledge of any nearby market, and the prospect of venturing out into a new environment excited you.

"have you never heard of it?" he asks, his eyes narrowing.

breaking eye contact, you reply, "i have. i was simply unaware there was one here. how far is the walk?"

he inhaled deeply before responding, "about an hour. wear comfortable footwear."

nodding, you decide not to push the conversation further, though curiosity gnawed at you. the prospect of escaping the confines of the safehouse, even for a short while, held a certain allure, and perhaps it was an opportunity to uncover more about your mysterious protector.

anakin leads the way to the bustling market, with a palpable silence the entire walk. the vibrant activity at the market is a stark contrast to the quiet routine of the safehouse. alien vendors peddle their wares, hawking exotic spices and colorful fabrics, and you can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you take in the vibrant scene.

as you navigate through the crowded market, anakin's eyes remain vigilant, scanning the surroundings for any potential threats. it's clear that he takes his role as your protector seriously. you, however, are drawn to the colorful array of stalls and the alien dialects that fill the air. the market feels alive, and for a brief moment, you forget about the weight of your circumstances.

approaching a stall adorned with an assortment of intricate jewelry, you spot a vendor, an older twi'lek woman, tending to her display. her vibrant head-tails sway gracefully as she arranges her wares.

without hesitation, you engage her in conversation, switching to her native language. "kassurra," you say, your voice laced with warmth.

the twi'lek woman looks up, her eyes widening in surprise as she meets your gaze. "kassurra, may ril help vashna," she responds, a smile tugging at her lips.

anakin, standing a few paces away, seems taken aback by your sudden change in demeanor and language. his eyes dart between you and the vendor, a mixture of confusion and curiosity in his expression.

you and the vendor continue to converse, discussing the intricacies of her jewelry and the stories behind each piece. anakin remains on alert, his protective instincts never wavering, but there's a shift in the way he watches you. for the first time, you think he may see a different side of the princess he's been tasked with safeguarding, one that isn't confined by the walls of the safehouse.

anakin watches you, silently observing this unexpected connection that has sparked between you and a stranger in a distant corner of the galaxy.

as your conversation ends, the woman offers you a small pendant with a colorful gemstone, its significance tied to a story of resilience. you're touched by her gesture and purchase the pendant, a tangible reminder of this unexpected encounter.

as you and anakin bid farewell to her and make your way through the market once more, the atmosphere feels different. the air is charged with a newfound sense of connection, and anakin's once rigid demeanor seems to have softened, if only slightly.

you continue to explore the market, and encounter a group of children playing a lively game in a nearby alley. their laughter infectious, and you couldn't resist joining in. anakin watched as you played a simple game of catch with them, your laughter echoing through the alleyways. it was a rare moment, being able to let your guard down and enjoy a moment of pure joy.

as the sun began to dip below the horizon, signaling the approaching end of your visit to the market, you and anakin head back to the safehouse. the journey back was less tense than the trip there, but there was a subtle change in the air. anakin's demeanor, though still guarded, had softened ever so slightly.

back at the safehouse, you settled in the dining room, some fruits you had purchased now adorning the table. anakin, still wearing his jedi stoicism, finally speaks, his voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.

"you seemed… different at the market," he says, his eyes fixed on you.

you glance at him, a faint smile playing on your lips. "it's easy to forget the weight of my title when i'm surrounded by such vibrant life. i felt like a person, not just a princess."

anakin nods slowly, as if processing your words. "you should be cautious, though. we can't afford to let our guard down."

you understand his concern, but the brief respite had given you a glimpse of the world outside the safehouse, and you yearned for more. "i know, anakin. but there's more to life than just surviving. sometimes, we have to remember what we're fighting for, and whom."

anakin's gaze holds your own for a moment, and then he nods, a hint of understanding in his eyes. it was a small, almost imperceptible step, but it was a step toward bridging the gap.

the days that followed your visit to the market saw a small transformation in your interactions with anakin. the connection that had sparked between you and the vendor, and the brief moment of joy shared with the children, had left an indelible mark on you. you couldn't help but yearn for more moments like those, moments that reminded you of the vibrant world beyond the safehouse's walls.

anakin, too, seemed affected by the outing. while he remained vigilant in his duty to protect you, there was a new delicacy in his gaze, a flicker of warmth that occasionally surfaced. it was as though the walls he had built around himself were starting to crumble, revealing a person beneath the jedi facade.

one evening, as you both sit in the study, he suprises you by reaching for one of the books on the shelf, a collection of poems from your homeworld. he flips through its pages, his fingers tracing the elegant script.

"these are from your planet, aren't they?" he asks, voice gentle.

you nod, a smile tugging at your lips. "yes, they're poems from my people. would you like me to read one for you?"

anakin hesitates for a moment before nodding. "i'd like that."

as you begin to read one of the poems, the words flow from your lips with ease, carrying the essence of something you miss so dearly. anakin listens intently, his eyes fixed on you, and when you finish, he speaks softly, "it's beautiful, the way your people express themselves."

"thank you anakin, i... miss them very much." and encouraged by his interest, you continue to share more.

he listens, and for that you thank him silently. being able to share a part of you feels freeing, and you wonder at how easily the dynamic had shifted.

but after hours of reading, sharing stories, and talking, openly for once, you can't help but to yawn. anakin notices, "you're tired, we should head to bed, princess."

you want to oppose but the sleep settling into you prohibits the response, "i guess so, but i enjoyed this. i," you try to search for the right words, "i like being able to talk to you like this. i was scared you had grown a resentment for me."

he gives you a curious look, so you continue, "i thought that you may not like me, or rather, this arrangement."

he sighs, "no, it's not that. i just, was scared to say or do the wrong thing. i'm not often left alone with beautiful princesses."

your heart skips a beat at his words. anakin's admission catches you off guard, and you can't help but feel a rush of warmth spreading through you.

with a shy smile, you respond, "i appreciate your honesty, anakin. and for the record, you've never said anything that made me resent this arrangement. in fact, i find our conversations… quite refreshing."

anakin's blue eyes meet yours, and you see a softness in them that you hadn't witnessed before. as though the walls that had separated you were crumbling further.

as you both walk to your rooms to retire for the night, there's a newfound sense of closeness between you. he escorts and checks your room, as he always does, but this time, there's a different energy in the air. his protectiveness is still there, but it's accompanied by a tenderness that wasn't evident before.

entering your room, you face him. "thank you, anakin, for today. for everything."

he nods, a small smile gracing his lips. "you're welcome, princess. sleep well."

"you as well." and you do truly mean it.

as you lay in bed, you can't help but reflect on how much has changed between you and the knight. what started as so tense, transformed into something more genuine.

as sleep gradually overtakes you, you can't help but wonder where this journey will lead. the future is uncertain and frightening, but one thing is clear— you're no longer alone in the safehouse, no longer silently watched. you have something sweet to hold onto, and that, for now, is more than enough.

#anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin x y/n #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin fluff #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin but he's happy lmao

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isa-beenme · 1 year

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Hey could you pls do the nightmare trope with azriel where the reader has a very bad nightmare in which she sees azriel nearly dead and when she wakes up and finds him she can't believe it's him and he manages to help her ? ☺️🤔

I certainly can! 😉😉

Oh my, thank you very much for directing me on this one, my biggest fear is writing something people wouldn't like since I usually get carried away in the story and write whatever comes to mind first

Hope you enjoy this!!

I know I said I wouldn't do more than one fic for each trope right now but whatever I like this one better 😡

Until It Happens To You

The night was restless as if the shadows themselves whispered secrets that their master shouldn't hear. You felt burdened by a foreboding unease, your mind shifted between the deep slumber and the real world. You didn't feel Azriel's body beside yours in the bed, his side turning cold at each passing moment he was away. You were sure he slept at your side this night, just as the many others he said your presence made it easier for him to finish his work and finally get some rest.

This strange arrangement between the two of you started a few months ago, you with your throat dry and in need of water and him with a pile of work, he didn't finish during the day. You were so deep into your sleep that somehow you managed to invite him to your room and tell him he could do it in your bed since "two work better than one". You were obviously asleep when he found himself at your side, but he remained there anyway and assured you the next morning that it worked, in a strange way. After some days, some times you actually helped him, he distracted himself by your calm aura and slept in your bed.

That's how everything started and, on his restless nights, he found comfort at your side, both of you holding your peace together as the dream world caught you both at night.

Anyway, you imagined he went back to his room, as he did so many nights before, it wasn't weird at all. Yet, you couldn't get back to sleep as the silence filled the house, almost as if it was mourning something. Your eyes started to close again only to open by a haunting scream that seemed to transcend the walls of the whole house, filling every corner with terror.

In this nightmarish scenario, you found yourself standing in the middle of the room, what before was a bright and colorful place became a desolate chamber shrouded in darkness. The air was heavy with a cold, forming an oppressive atmosphere. Dimly lit torches flickered around you, torches you didn't remember you lighted. They kept casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls, mocking you with their macabre movements, almost as if they were laughing at your lack of knowledge.

As your eyes adjusted to the gloom, you noticed the open door, more torches lighting your way to the corridor, and the stones covering the walls, dirty with a thin layer of blood that started on your door and kept going downstairs. You checked your own body to make sure, finding nothing but heartache, a feeling that your heart was being ripped out of you.

You followed the path that led you to the living room, the blood forming a thicker layer with each step you took closer. The sight you found wasn't any better, close to the balcony doors, in a position that looked like the person was trying to run away, you spotted a figure lying motionless on the cold stone floor. The wings were shredded to pieces, and blood covered their clothes, forming a pool on the sides.

Your heart skipped a beat as recognition dawned upon you, making your knees tremble as you took in the image forming in front of your eyes. It was Azriel, the one whose love and presence had become the foundation of your existence. Panic surged through your veins, and your voice choked with fear when you screamed for help, but it seemed like no one was in the house besides the both of you.

-Azriel! No, please, wake up! - You uselessly screamed as you ran close to his body, feeling that your heart could explode at any moment with the pain you felt.

With trembling hands, you rushed towards him, your footsteps echoing ominously through the chamber. Kneeling by his side, you desperately shook him, but he remained unresponsive. His usually tanned and alluring features were now pale and lifeless, and his eyes closed in an eternal slumber. Suddenly you understood the pain you were feeling. The mating bond. The realization kills you even more.

Tears streamed down your face as you cradled his motionless form, hugging his cold body the way you could, hoping for any form of life to come out of him. Your voice became a desperate plea as you kept talking to him, even if you knew he wouldn't answer.

-No, this can't be happening! Azriel, please! Wake up! - Your anguished cries reverberated off the walls, fading into the oppressive darkness.

Yet, despite your desperate attempts, your touch suddenly met no resistance. It seemed to pass through his form as if he were nothing but a specter. His body started to disappear in thin air, the despair seemed to taunt you, amplifying your pain and the sense of loss.

As this nightmare tightened its grip on you, the chamber distorted and morphed, becoming a labyrinth of pain and suffering. The walls closed in, constricting your movements, suffocating you with an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. You fought against the suffocating atmosphere, gasping for air, your voice a mere whimper as you tried to grasp Azriel's disappearing form.

- Please...don't leave me… I love you. I've been in love for a long time now and you can't leave me here… my mate - Your last words were whispered against the nothing.

When Feyre told you about the day she almost lost Rhysand she told you about the painful sensation of getting her heart broken. And you were there when she need it most while she remembered the situation, but you weren't the one falling off that deep end of silence and cold of a once cheerful and bright string that connected their souls. You understood her now.

You once had a friend that lost somebody close, and you were also there when they needed it most, but you would never be the one having trouble sleeping once the night came and you felt like you didn't do enough. But you understood them now.

You can say you're sorry a million times to Azriel's body laying on the floor. But even if you try hard, he won't come back. The same way you tried to sympathize with your friends, it was helpless, you wouldn't be the one picking up the pieces left of your heart. Now you were. And you felt helpless anyway.

Somebody loses somebody every day, but you'll never really know what it's like till you wake up to some really bad news and the worst scenario you could ever find. You'll never really know how it feels until it happens to you.

You looked around the room, the blood covering everything only made the pain worse. You looked outside, trying to find a starry night, instead, you only found a creature looking back at you, its teeth covered in your mate's blood when the thing seemed to smile at your figure. You only waited for the creature to break the windows and devour you completely, but as it came closer you only felt the wind meeting your skin as the thing breathed against your hair. It was inside the house the whole time, only waiting for you to mourn Azriel's body and relish its work before doing the same to you.

Just as the darkness threatened to consume you entirely, your body jolted awake, every piece of skin drenched in a cold sweat. The nightmare had released its grip on you, but your heart still raced with lingering dread. Trembling, you looked around the room, desperately seeking solace in the comforting embrace of reality. The colors and brightness of your bedroom make itself known as you take in the world around you. The small sounds of night filled you in, the solitude leaving your body.

And then you saw him - Azriel - sitting at the edge of the bed, concern etched across his face. His presence felt surreal as if the boundaries between the nightmare and reality had blurred. Tears of relief welled up in your eyes as you reached out to touch him, fear covering your movements as uncertainty filled you.

- Azriel...is it really you? - Your voice was trembling with disbelief as your hand finally made its way toward his face. Azriel's eyes softened with compassion as he gently took your trembling hand in his, his scars making everything fall into place. The reality and the mating bond.

- Yes, it's me. You had a terrible nightmare, but you're safe now - His voice was raw, he was probably trying to wake you up for some time now. Overwhelmed by emotions, you throw yourself into his waiting arms, holding onto him as if he was your lifeline.

- I thought...I thought I lost you - You whispered, voice quivering with a mixture of fear and relief. Azriel held you tightly, his touch a soothing balm to your shattered emotions.

- I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere. Do you want me to stay here a little longer? - At that moment, the nightmare's grip loosened completely, replaced by a newfound strength and resilience.

- I need to tell you something - His eyes widened a bit, and his breathing became uneasy. You realized he felt the tug you gave into that bond between you two - It was horrible to feel this being shredded to pieces as you died in my arms, I couldn't do anything while you disappeared right in front of my eyes.

- I'm here now, I'm fine - He kissed your head and pulled you closer - I woke up when I heard your scream. You were calling my name - He smothered his hand on your arms, warming you with his presence - When I got here you weren't screaming, but I could still hear your voice. I probably heard from…

- The mating bond - You finished the phrase for him, just seeing him nodding - Why didn't you sleep here tonight?

- If I spent one more night at your side without having you being mine completely I would go crazy - He put you to lay down on the bed, quickly getting under the covers with you - I thought I should put some space between us or I would hold you in my arms and never let you go.

- I wouldn't be opposed to this, you know - You said in a whisper, seeing the smile that planted his face as he went closer and closer to you, holding you impossibly near his naked torso, enough heat irradiated from him to warm both of you. His presence became your anchor, his love a guiding light through the darkest of nights - What do we do now?

- Now we sleep, I don't go to train tomorrow so we can talk and figure out how we gonna work this out - His hand traveled to your face, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes - I want you to have in mind that I won't rush you in any way, but I love you and I want this between us. I want you to love me too.

- I already do. I always did - You whispered as you went closer and closer, slowly ending the gap between both of you as you kissed his lips lightly, just a taste of the near future you both could have - I want everything with you, and I don't want to wait. Just to remember the sensation of losing you without getting to live anything makes me anxious.

- It's okay now. I promise I won't leave your side - He wrapped one wing around you, providing a safe space for you both - Get some sleep now, when the sun rises we can talk - He granted one last kiss on the lips before you closed your eyes and hugged him tight.

You stayed entwined in each other's arms, finding solace in the warmth of your embrace. The nightmare may have left scars, but also a sensation of longing for the bond that you would have to fulfill for the rest of your life. The scars would heal with time and you would both find solace in the unbreakable bond you shared.

#azriel × reader #spotify #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel/reader #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel x female!reader

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sethshead · 1 month

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Another disconcerting element of “Queers for Palestine” is that it popped up in prominent left-wing anti-Israel/pro-Palestine rallies in the immediate aftermath of Hamas’s terrorist attacks, before Israel had the chance to respond. As such, there is no way to interpret this slogan and the surrounding leftist fervor except as a signal of support not merely for Palestine, but specifically for Hamas, the jihadist movement with the explicit aim of eradicating the state of Israel. It's imperative to understand that Hamas, as detailed in its 1988 Covenant, is propelled by a fundamentalist Islamist ideology with the goal not only of eliminating all Jews but also conquering the world — just like ISIS. Senior Hamas official Mahmoud al-Zahar was recorded saying, “The entire planet will be under our law, there will be no more Jews or Christian traitors.” Western support for Hamas, under the guise of Palestinian liberation, overlooks the deep-seated radical Islamist ethos driving the organization, which, if unbridled, would jeopardize the very freedoms cherished by LGBT people across the developed world. Anyone who doubts this should try being gay, bi, or trans in most of the Middle East and North Africa’s (MENA) Muslim-majority countries. Virtually all of these nations have laws that criminalize homosexuality and being trans, some of which carry the death penalty. Human Rights Watch’s "Everyone Wants Me Dead" report succinctly encapsulates in its title alone the perilous environment faced by LGBT individuals in these regions. [...] The aftermath of the 1979 Islamic Revolution in Iran is a harrowing tale of leftists being tortured and executed en masse by the very Islamic regime they supported for the sake of their anti-imperialist goals. Many Iranians who aligned with leftist organizations supported the revolution only to find themselves persecuted by Islamists they helped put in power. Immediately following the revolution, the new regime led by Ayatollah Khomeini began systematically oppressing LGBT people and publicly executing them by the thousands. These atrocities were justified as a means to "eliminate corruption" and prevent the "contamination" of society. Between 4,000 to 6,000 gay, lesbian, and bi people have been executed since the 1979 Islamic Revolution. Iran’s legal system, rooted in Islamic law, criminalizes consensual sexual relations between same-sex individuals, with penalties ranging from lashes to death. Iranian law does not distinguish between consensual and non-consensual same-sex intercourse, allowing authorities to prosecute both perpetrators and victims of sexual assault.

But I've been told by queer activists that criminalized, illicit sex is hot, and that gay men in the Muslim world therefore have the best and most sex of anywhere. Given that frequent, anonymous, and risky sex is to those activists the high point of LGBTQ liberation, gay men in Gaza and Iran are thus freer than they are in the US. It is truly Michel Foucault's world, and we are all just living in it.

Back in reality, however, Navabi places his finger on a core part of the "Queers for Hamas" problem: the flattening of all conflicts into a single perceived intersectional struggle between power and the lack thereof. Motives, histories, local considerations, ideological incompatibility - all of these can be replaced by the imposition of provincial Western issues on very different peoples, ideas, needs, and lives. None of the individual conflicts and movements embraced by intersectionality discourse are allowed to breathe on their own, to have their own particulars respected. Instead it all becomes one vast, undifferentiated, vague liberation kitsch using the same prefabricated slogans and jargon. "How is that not its own form of small-minded, white-man's-burden, Western colonialism", you may ask. And you would be right.

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dumbslvtforethan · 1 month

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✁ THE DINER. #3 ethan landry

inspired by "THE DINER" by billie eilish.

warnings mentions of rape, no smut 712 words

taglist ! masterlist

AS YOU SAT DOWN ON THE COLD FLOOR of your dorm room, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on you, your mind raced through a list of people you could call. Each name brought a new set of doubts. chad was out of town for the weekend visiting his family, and quinn had a big exam the next morning and wouldn't appreciate the interruption. tara was notoriously unreliable, often turning her phone off at night, and you couldn't risk waiting for a callback. and on top of that you didn't want to bother mindy once again.

Your hands trembled as you reached for your phone, the screen blurring through your tears. Scrolling through your contacts, you saw Ethan's name and paused. He wasn't your closest friend, but he was dependable. Ethan had a calming presence and was always willing to lend a hand, even if you hadn't formed the strongest bond. In the chaos of your emotions, you craved the steady reassurance that he could provide.

Ethan had always been the quiet one in the group, the one who listened more than he spoke, which made him seem trustworthy. His seemingly gentle nature and his reputation for being a good listener made him the best option in your moment of crisis. He was the kind of person who noticed when you were having a bad day and offered help without prying too much.

You dialed his number, each ring amplifying your anxiety until he picked up. His voice was a comforting anchor in the storm of your thoughts.

"Hey, Ethan. It's me," you managed to say, your voice weak and broken.

"Hey! What's up? You okay?" His immediate concern wrapped around you like a warm blanket.

"I... I need to talk to someone. Can you come over?" The words tumbled out before you could second-guess yourself.

There was a brief silence, and you feared he might refuse. But then he said, "Of course. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Hanging up, you waited in a daze, and put some clothes on, each minute feeling like an eternity. When Ethan arrived, his eyes scanned your tear-streaked face with genuine worry. He stepped inside, his presence instantly making the room feel less oppressive.

"Hey, what happened?" he asked softly, guiding you to sit on the couch.

You took a deep, shaky breath. "I... I don't know how to say this, but I was attacked. Someone broke in and... raped me." The words came out in a rush, and you choked back a sob.

Ethan's eyes widened, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a comforting embrace. "I'm so sorry. You're safe now, okay? I'm here."

You clung to him, the warmth of his body providing a stark contrast to the cold terror that still lingered in your veins. Ethan's soothing words and gentle touch were exactly what you needed, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe that everything would be alright.

As he held you, Ethan's thoughts were a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He felt a sick rush knowing you had called him for comfort. But he pushed it aside, focusing on maintaining his innocent demeanor.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head. "I just... I don't want to be alone right now."

"You won't be," Ethan promised. "I'll stay as long as you need."

There was a moment of silence, then Ethan spoke again, his voice softer, almost tender. "You know, before you called me i dreamt of this yesterday night. i guess you're starring in my dreams."

You blinked, a strange sense of familiarity washing over you. "I've heard that phrase somewhere before," you thought , but in your exhausted state, you couldn't place it.

The thought drifted away as quickly as it came.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of quiet conversation and moments of silence. Ethan stayed true to his word, never leaving your side. As the first light of dawn crept through the window, you finally felt a semblance of peace. With Ethan there, you allowed yourself to drift into a restless sleep, unaware of the true nature of the monster who comforted you.

- @dumbslvtforethan on tumblr

a/n: this is shit, im sorry

TAGLIST @snkling @chqrryw4ves @esnypetal @pincheputaaa @violentology @a1exxq

#ethan landry #ethan landry smut #horror #scream #loren campbell #scream iv #ethan landry smut non con #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry fanfiction #ghostface ethan #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry x reader #jack champion smut #jack champion

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yanderes-galore · 1 year

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Can I request platonic yandere Megatron from Earthspark with a teen reader who tries to escape them at every twist and turn but Megatron just wants to keep them safe because he feels immense guilt about all the harm he's done in the past.

Sure! I'm still very new to Earthspark so I hope I manage to do this correctly. However, for future reference;

My darlings are always at least 18, I do not do teen or child darlings.

I still wanted to do this request though since I find Earthspark cool- Concept as not specified.

Yandere! Platonic! ES! Megatron Concept

Darling that keeps trying to escape him

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Megatron is trying to better himself, Platonic yandere, Parental/Friend yandere, Manipulation, Selfish behavior, Overprotective behavior, Kidnapping/Isolation, Forced companionship.

This version of Megatron has more experience with humans than other iterations.

In Earthspark, Megatron helped end the war with Optimus Prime and worked alongside humans.

I feel he understands humans a bit more yet would still struggle occasionally.

War is still in his mindset even if he is getting used to peaceful life.

As a result, sometimes when it comes to you he's a bit rough.

Megatron doesn't realize it but his form of "protecting" you can be viewed as very oppressive.

Megatron is aware of his past and feels extremely guilty for it.

When he met you helping out with the war effort to end the original Autobot/Decepticon war, he had become a friend to you.

Part of him feels if he takes care of you then it will make him feel right.

Taking care of you will help him be a better person, a better Autobot.

As a result, Megatron has gained an obsessive need to stick by you.

Even after the war and you've settled back into civilian life, Megatron takes time out from defending Earth to see you.

His friendship is founded on some selfish means... but that doesn't change the fact he cares for you.

In terms of trying to escape him, as of currently I can't see any reason why you would.

He's just an... overprotective Autobot, that's all.

Although maybe something goes wrong, like a new threat, and Megatron feels a need to protect you via isolation.

You'll be placed somewhere only he knows....

That, or, somehow something upsets Megatron and he shows that old ruthless side momentarily.

Maybe while protecting you from a new threat?

This scares you and makes you avoid the Decepticon turned Autobot that you once saw as a friend.

These two scenarios would work with what I was given, maintaining a reason Megatron is yandere yet also why you would want to escape compared to normal overprotective behavior.

One way or another, your friend gives into being an oppressive force once again, leaving you in a situation that makes you want to run.

The fact you want to ignore Megatron feeds his guilt even more.

He feels horrible that he's done the complete opposite of protecting you.

He's hurt you, he's scared you, you may even hate him...

So he tries to make things right once again.

Which feeds into a constant loop.

Megatron feels horrible that he can't make your friendship work between you.

He's ruined it.

Yet he also refuses to let you go, he cares for you too much to abandon his human companion.

If you kept trying to run away and avoid him, Megatron would step in to attempt to apologize or make things right.

Hell, he may even kidnap you if he hasn't already to keep you to himself.

You can cry and scream at him, yet Megatron will still try to justify himself.

This is... just his way or protecting you!

Keeping you in your home and caring for you this way is the right way to defend you...

That's what his delusions tell him.

He knows this isn't the right way to protect you or keep you happy or even maintain your friendship...

Megatron feels deep down he still hasn't changed much from before... even with your help...

Still, he pleads for you to stay.

He still believes you can make him a better Autobot...

Just don't leave him... maybe you can still change him! ... maybe....

#yandere megatron #yandere transformers #yandere transformers earthspark #yandere earthspark megatron #platonic yandere

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calif0rnia-lovers · 6 months

Text

daydream look.

pairing: steve harrington x sinclair!oc

author's note: I have so many unfinished harrington stories. Sharing this one. It's unedited, but I hope you enjoy it. I just needed Steve head over heels over someone other than Nancy.

sum: On a Friday night, the streets of Hawkins, Indiana, bustled with activity. Yet, inside the local video rental store, Steve Harrington found himself stuck behind the counter, drowning his pangs of envy with a half-melted slushie as he watched the vibrant energy of the town pass by. However, his mood quickly shifted when a familiar face stepped through the door—a pretty girl whose presence had always left the usual charmer a bumbling mess.

The scorching sun beat down mercilessly on the streets of Hawkins, Indiana, casting shimmering waves of heat over the asphalt. Inside the refuge of the Family Video, Steve Harrington found himself ensnared behind the counter, the oppressive heat seeming to stretch time itself.

The tiny fan behind the desk whirred weakly, offering little relief. Steve's shirt clung to his skin, and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead as he attempted to cool himself with his half-melted slushie. The rapidly melting bittersweet concoction of cherry and lime provided a fleeting respite from the sweltering temperatures, but it did little to alleviate his growing sense of restlessness.

The store, usually a hive of activity, lay deserted, its usual throngs of patrons seeking solace from the heat elsewhere. Steve couldn't help but envy those lucky enough to enjoy a refreshing dip at the local pool while he remained trapped behind the counter, counting down the minutes until closing time.

Just as Steve's boredom threatened to consume him entirely, the jingle of the door interrupted his thoughts. Stepping into the store was a vision straight out of a John Hughes film—Yasmine Sinclair. Steve's heart skipped a beat at the sight of her.

Known affectionately as Yas by her friends, unfortunately, Steve hadn't made it that far yet. Hell, according to Robin, he's not even an acquaintance.

"You're just the creepy older guy who stares longingly at her from the bleachers every Friday night," she'd always tease, her sarcasm dripping like honey.

Steve would usually retort, but deep down, he knew she was right. He's just the guy who can't seem to form a coherent sentence in Yas's presence.

He'd expected to see her still dressed in her Hawkin's cheer uniform. It was Friday night after all. Instead, her long black hair, meticulously braided was pulled into a high ponytail, swaying as she glanced over her shoulder at the sounds of a mother attempting to wrangle her three rowdy boys. Steve loved it when she wore her hair up. It led to no possible obstructions of view, allowing the world to see her natural beauty, her radiant smile, and the warmth of her deep chocolate eyes. Despite the sweltering heat, she looked perfect. Not a single sign that just an hour before she was running laps to end cheer practice.

How could she look that beautiful when he was a sweltering mess?

The corners of his lips turned into a smile at the sight of the cropped Thriller T-shirt. Steve's eyes passed over the high-waisted acid-washed shorts, admiring how they hugged her curves in all the right places. They traveled down the length of her legs, lingering for a moment on the pair of poorly tied white worn Converse.

"Have some dignity, Harrington," Robin's voice broke through his reverie, her tone laced with amusement. Her gaze followed Steve's as he watched Yas hold the door open for the family of four. "You're practically drooling."

Steve tore his gaze away from Yas, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks.

"Shut up, Robin," he muttered, abandoning his slushie on the counter. He quickly glanced at the nearby monitor, checking to see if his teeth and tongue were stained from the icy treat. Satisfied that he appeared presentable, he straightened up.

But Robin was relentless. "You know, if you ever want to actually talk to her instead of just ogling from afar, I'm here to help," she offered, her smirk evident even in her words.

Steve turned to shoot Robin a playful glare, but she merely grinned in response, unfazed by his attempted intimidation. She'd lost track of the times she witnessed Steve Harrington's daydream look in the presence of the pretty Hawkin's senior.

"I do talk to her," Steve protested, his voice laced with mock indignation.

Robin raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Oh, my bad Harrington, I forgot you do," she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "It's just so painful to witness, I try to sear it from my mind. Like that time you told her she had the most graceful roundoff backhandspring you'd ever seen? Classic."

Steve's cheeks flushed crimson as he recalled the awkwardly landing compliment he had blurted out as Lucas stopped his sister to let her know he was catching a ride with Dustin and Steve.

"Alright, alright," he conceded, his grin sheepish. "I didn't realize you were cataloging all my lines. Geez."

Robin snorted with laughter, her eyes sparkling with mischief. The pair watching Yas cross the store, eyes passing over the options Family Video had to offer. "That was a line?" she exclaimed, her amusement evident. "First piece of advice, Steve: never use it again."

Steve sighed, adjusting his work vest with a self-conscious shrug. "I'm just rusty," he muttered, his cheeks still tinged with embarrassment.

But Robin was relentless, her teasing knowing no bounds. "Well, if you ever need some pointers on how to actually hold a conversation with her, you know where to find me," she offered, her smirk widening.

Steve rolled his eyes with a playful smirk as Robin concentrated on turning the fan in her direction. "Thanks, Robin," he replied, his tone laced with sarcasm. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind. But, I don't need any help."

Robin's lips curled into a playful smirk. "Aren't you still single, Casanova?" she teased, her voice carrying a hint of challenge.

Steve's grin faltered for a moment before he countered, "Weren't you just asking me how to ask out Vickie?"

Robin gasped in mock hurt, her hand darting out to ruffle Steve's hair. With practiced ease, Steve ducked away, hastily smoothing down his tousled locks with a sheepish grin.

"Hey, cut it out!" he protested, but Robin's laughter echoed through the quiet store.

As Steve watched Yas pause to admire the "new releases" shelf, a pang of nervous energy surged through him. Glancing over at Robin, he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

"What help would you be willing to give? If I was looking, hypothetically?" he queried, his gaze flickering with uncertainty.

Robin shot her best friend a mischievous glance, her eyes dancing with amusement. With a sly grin, she deepened her voice and called out, "Need help, ma'am?"

Steve's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he turned to shoot Robin a glare, but she had already vanished into the maze of shelves, leaving him to awkwardly lean against the counter. As Yas's gaze swept across the store, her eyes finally settling on him, Steve's heart skipped a beat, and he couldn't help but wonder if Robin's teasing had inadvertently set something in motion.

"Welcome to Family Video, where every night is movie night!" Steve's voice, tinged with a hint of charm, filled the air, echoing against the shelves lined with VHS tapes. His gaze met hers, his once natural gift of charm beginning to dissipate as she started in his direction. "I'm Steve."

His ears reddened as the nearby stacks snickered.

Fuck, Harrington. Steve could practically feel Robin's telepathical remark smacking him against the back of his head. She's got you bad, huh? Just abandon ship!

"Hey, Stevie," Yas greeted him with a giggle, her warm smile sending a flutter through his chest. It was a nickname he'd hated over the years, putting an end to it the second anyone dared to mutter it. But, hearing it from her lips? It sounded heaven sent. "I missed you at the game last night."

Steve's heart skipped a beat at her words, caught off guard by the unexpected mention. Despite his efforts to appear composed, a subtle tremor betrayed his nerves as he stumbled over his words. A nervous habit, his fingers sought solace in the tousled locks of his hair, a gesture not lost on the beautiful girl.

"Yeah, I was here," he sighed. "But I'm sure you looked great," he quickly amended, the sight of her growing smile causing him to do tbe same. "I meant...you did great," he chuckled, his voice softening as her gaze briefly dropped from his to her fingers.

"What can I do for you today?" Steve finally managed to ask, his voice a mixture of professionalism and genuine curiosity, his eyes lingering on Yas, eager to assist her in any way he could.

"I'm looking for a movie for date night," she explained, her eyes scanning the rows of movie titles with a thoughtful expression. "Something exciting, a bit of romance, but not too much," she added with a playful grin, "I don't want him to throw up." She paused, a hint of hesitation flickering in her eyes before she continued, "Oh, and nothing too scary because I can't handle blood and gore."

Internally, Steve's heart sank at the thought of Yas picking out the perfect movie for a date with another guy. A pang of jealousy surged through him, followed by a wave of insecurity as his mind raced through a list of potential suitors. There were a lot. Nearly every guy in Hawkins was enamored by the beauty of the eldest Sinclair. He quickly pushed aside the intrusive thoughts, forcing himself to focus on Yas's request.

Yas's request hung in the air. Steve found himself studying her intently, his mind running through the catalogue he'd spent the morning reshelving. She turned to find him lost in thought, a rush of warmth creeping across her skin as she caught his gaze.

Yas opened her mouth to add more, but Steve's eyes lit up with such fervor that she couldn't help but pause, her words momentarily forgotten at the sight of his grin.

Steve's eyes lit up as he spotted the perfect option. "Got it," he exclaimed with newfound confidence before darting around the corner to retrieve the film.

Seconds later, Steve returned, a triumphant grin lighting up his face as he held up the VHS tape. "Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark," he announced proudly, presenting the tape to Yas with a flourish. "It's got everything you're looking for – excitement, romance, and just the right amount of danger. Plus, it's a classic!"

As she accepted the tape, her fingers brushed against Steve's, sending a jolt of warmth coursing through him. Her fingers delicately tracing the cover as she examined the bold illustrations.

"A classic, huh?" she remarked, her voice tinged with intrigue as she turned the tape over in her hands, her gaze lingering on the unfamiliar image of Indiana Jones.

"Yeah, definitely," Steve replied with a nod, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "It's one of my all-time favorites. You know, there's this one scene where Indiana Jones has to outrun a giant boulder in a booby-trapped cave –"

Yas's eyebrows raised in interest as she listened to Steve's animated explanation, her lips curving into a smile. "Wow, that sounds intense," she commented, her gaze flickering with amusement.

"Yeah, it starts off with the action from the very beginning," Steve continued, his enthusiasm bubbling over. "And there's this moment where Indy swings across a chasm with his whip – it's classic Harrison Ford at his finest!"

Yas nodded along, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as Steve rambled on about the film. Despite her initial reservations, she found herself drawn in by his infectious passion for the movie.

As Steve finally caught himself mid-ramble, he cleared his throat awkwardly, realizing he had been going on for far too long. "Sorry, I tend to get carried away when it comes to movies," he admitted sheepishly, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

But Yas just laughed, the sound light and melodious. "No need to apologize," she reassured him with a smile. "I appreciate the recommendation. It sounds like the perfect choice for our date night."

Steve's heart skipped a beat at her words, a rush of warmth flooding through him. "Yeah, I think you'll really enjoy it," he replied, his smile widening as he handed her the tape.

As he took in the smile on her face, he couldn't help but notice that for a moment, time seemed to stand still as they shared a fleeting connection. Heart pounding in his chest, Steve attempted to lean casually against a nearby shelf, aiming for a suave demeanor. However, in his nervousness, his hand grazed a stack of VHS tapes precariously balanced on the edge. With a clumsy fumble, he knocked over a few tapes, causing them to clatter to the ground with an embarrassing racket. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment, Steve quickly bent down to pick up the fallen tapes, hoping to salvage some semblance of composure. But the damage was done, and he could feel his cheeks burning as he attempted to recover from the awkward mishap.

"If you're looking for something else," he started.

Before Steve could finish Robin emerged from the shelves with a smirk, her eyes dancing with mischief as she teased Steve.

"How about you clean that up," she remarked with a pointed look at the mess on the floor, before pressing the tape against Steve's chest. "I'll take it from here, partner," she announced, her tone laced with humor as she draped her arm over Yas's shoulder, leading her away into the maze of shelves.

Steve watched them go, a mixture of relief and curiosity washing over him. He lingered for a moment, listening to their fading laughter and catching snippets of their conversation in the distance. With a shake of his head and a sheepish smile, he turned back to the counter, reorganizing the stack in his hands.

As Robin led Yas through the stacks, Steve discreetly passed the time, leaning casually against the counter as he pretended to rearrange some tapes. He strained to listen in on their conversation, his heart skipping a beat every time he caught Yas's melodic laughter.

"Ya'll have a great selection here," Yas commented, her voice echoing softly through the rows of shelves.

"Yeah," Robin agrees. Clearing her throat, she speaks slightly louder. "Steve knows this place like the back of his hand. He introduced me to this one film last week, and I loved it," Robin continued, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. Pulling the case of the shelf she passes it to Yas.

Yas studies the cover as she leans against the nearby shelf.

"I know he's oozes textbook pretty boy and all, but actually Steve knows his stuff," Robin added with a chuckle, her tone warm and admiring, punctuated by a playful smirk. "Yes, some of his choices are a bit... questionable, but his heart's in the right place."

Steve felt a surge of pride at Robin's comment, a pleased smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He continued to feign interest in the tapes before him, his ears tuned in to every word they spoke.

"You two seem really close. I always see you together at the games and stuff."

Robin chuckles softly, shaking her head. "Yeah, practically joined at the hip," she says, her tone light. "But, you know, just friends, if you were wondering."

Yas's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a faint warmth creeping across her face as she follows Robin's gaze to where Steve struggles to put together a cardboard stand-up. "Oh, I see," she says, her voice carefully neutral.

Robin flashes her a reassuring smile. "Yeah, he's a great guy," she says, her tone genuine. "And definitely available, if you catch my drift."

Yas nods, a thoughtful expression crossing her features. "Got it," she replies, her eyes lingering on Steve for a moment longer before returning to Robin. "Thanks for letting me know."

Robin nods, her smile widening. "Anytime, Yas. Steve's a catch, that's for sure."

With that, the two girls return to browsing the shelves, their conversation shifting to lighter topics as they continue their search for the perfect movie.

"Thanks, Robin!"

"Anytime, Yas!" Robin called back with a grin. She waited until Yas's back faced her to shoot Steve a thumbs up.

Steve caught the gesture, his attention drawn away from the comic Dustin had given him to "culture" himself. With a quick movement, he pushed off the counter, hastily closing the comic and clearing the surface to make room for Yas.

Yas smiled as she approached the counter, a stack of films cradled in her arms. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she surveyed her selections.

"Wow, that's quite a haul," Steve whistled as she set the films down on the counter with a soft thud. "Looks like you've got quite the movie marathon ahead."

"Yeah, Robin had a lot of suggestions," Yas giggled. She shifted the films in her arms, her fingers brushing against the colorful covers as she arranged them on the counter.

Steve began to ring up the movies, stealing glances at Yas as she studied the candy behind the counter. "So... got an idea of which one will make the cut for the date?" he asked, hoping to keep the conversation going.

Yas glanced up with a playful smile, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Oh, definitely."

Steve's eyes flickered to the Indiana Jones cover on the counter, and he couldn't help but chuckle. "No way," he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

Yas raised an eyebrow. "What? You don't think it's a good choice?" she teased, her tone light and playful.

Steve rolled his eyes with a grin.

"Well, I suppose if all else fails, at least I get to look at Harrison Ford," Yas quipped, a playful smirk playing on her lips.

Steve chuckled, feeling the warmth of Yas's laughter fill the space between them. "I guess you've got a point there," he admitted, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

As Steve focused on bagging her movies and counting her change, Yas leaned forward resting her elbows against the counter as she leaned forward, her full attention on him.

"So, what time do you usually close FrIdays?"

"Midnight," Steve winced. His eyes scanned over the empty store. "But, we might close early tonight. I'm thinking ten."

"Any big plans since you're getting out early?" Yas asked.

Steve glanced up, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. "Uh, not really," he replied, Robin rolling her eyes at his obliviousness.

Yas smiled softly, her fingers brushing against his as he handed her the change. "Well, I was sort of hoping you'd make a detour to my place," she said, her voice trailing off teasingly as his eyes met hers. "My parents are out of town this weekend—some work conference for my dad—so I'm stuck babysitting Lucas and Erica. But if you're not too tired, you could swing by and we could kick off that movie marathon."

Steve's eyes widened in realization as her words slowly sank in.

"Yeah, that would be cool." A grin spread across his face, the action contagious. "I'll handle the snacks."

"Sounds good," Yas gathered her bag, her gaze lingering on Steve for a moment longer. The smile on her face growing as Steve grabbed two boxes of the candy she'd been eyeing a few moments before. "See you later, Stevie."

"10:30," Steve replied, his smile widening as he watched her leave the store.

As the door clicked shut behind Yas, Robin emerged from the shelves with a mischievous grin.

"See you later, Stevie," she teased, her voice ringing out in sing songy tone.

Steve chuckled at her teasing, shaking his head in amusement.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Robin," he retorted, his grin widening. "But guess who's got a date tonight?"

Robin's eyes widened in mock surprise. "No way! Stevie's got a date?" she exclaimed, feigning shock.

Steve rolled his eyes at her dramatics, but couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, I do," he admitted, his voice tinged with excitement.

Robin's grin softened into a smile as she clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, you better not keep her waiting, then," she said, waving towards the shelves. "You better start cleaning if you plan on closing on time."

Robin leaned against the nearby shelve, her eyes flicking over Steve's attire with a playful smirk. "Let's close at 9:30," she declared, her tone filled with amusement. "You definitely need to go home and change."

#let me know what you think?#added robin into the mix #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x black!reader #steve harrington x sinclair!oc #stranger things imagine

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cyllres · 18 days

Text

Devil | JJK x Makima! Reader

Chapter 29

You cursed under your breath as the last transfigured human dropped dead, its twisted form collapsing in a grotesque heap at your feet.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit,” you muttered, your voice a low, simmering growl as you paced the fields surrounding the shrine, your frustration mounting with each step. If this didn’t work, you’d have no choice but to confront Mahito directly—a prospect you weren’t eager to entertain.

Time was slipping through your fingers, and with it, your chances of saving Pochita dwindled. It’s mangled form haunted your thoughts, driving you to the edge of desperation. You needed something—someone—who had been “altered” by that patchwork curse but retained some semblance of their original self, someone you could manipulate, probe into their inner thoughts, and unravel the intricacies of Mahito’s cursed technique. But every transfigured human you’d captured before they succumbed to the curse had been utterly useless.

None of them could communicate with you, their minds too shattered, too consumed by the agony of their transformations. Despite the contracts you made with them, you could do nothing more than command their hollow shells. Their thoughts, if they had any left, were incoherent, fragmented whispers drowned out by the overwhelming pain they endured. No clues, no insight into how Mahito’s cursed technique operated, or how he twisted their bodies into such abominations.

Frustration boiled over, and you lashed out, kicking the lifeless transfigured human away from you with a snarl of disgust. Your gaze flicked upwards, catching sight of the crows circling above, their dark forms stark against the sky.

“Crows would draw too much attention,” you muttered to yourself, dismissing the idea as quickly as it came.

As if summoned by your thoughts, you felt the first tickle of movement against your skin. Thousands of rats swarmed up your legs, their tiny feet scuttling over your clothes, their bodies a writhing mass of fur and flesh. The sensation was revolting, a crawling, itching nightmare.

You closed your eyes, willing yourself to focus as the rats continued to swarm, enveloping your body in a living cloak. The world around you seemed to blur and twist, the sensation of teleportation unlike anything else—disorienting, like being pulled through a narrow, winding tunnel at breakneck speed, every fiber of your being stretched and compressed simultaneously. But having done this a thousand times, you got used to it.

When you opened your eyes, the shrine was gone, replaced by the dim, shadowy confines of a different location. The oppressive atmosphere of the school hallway felt suffocating, a stark contrast to the open fields you had just left behind. The rats that had carried you here scattered quickly, their tiny, clawed feet pattering away into the darkness, leaving you alone in the eerie silence.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you scanned the empty hallway. The familiar stench of rot and decay filled your nostrils, mingling with the faint traces of blood and despair that seemed to permeate the air. Your eyes narrowed as you searched for any signs of life—if you could even call it that—in the twisted, transfigured humans that Mahito had left in his wake.

Finally, your gaze landed on a motionless figure slumped on the floor. Its skin was an unnatural shade of blue, its hair matted and black. You approached it with a slow, deliberate stride, your shoes echoing ominously against the cold, hard floor. A twisted smile curled at the edges of your lips as you reached out, placing your hand on its head, ready to force it into a contract. You were about to bind it to your will, to use it as another tool in your arsenal—until you heard it speak.

"Y/n…" it muttered, its voice a weak, broken whisper. You froze, your eyes widening in surprise. Beneath the usual scent of decay and corruption that these abominations carried, there was something familiar, something that made you pause.

"Yoshino?" you whispered, your voice barely audible as a flicker of recognition sparked within you. The transfigured human's hand gripped the fabric of your pants, its dull, lifeless eyes struggling to focus on you.

"Why…?" it muttered again, its voice laced with pain and confusion.

"Are you Yoshino? Are you?" you demanded, a hint of urgency creeping into your tone. The creature nodded slowly, a painful, deliberate motion that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Y/n…" it repeated, its voice cracking as it struggled to form the words. "Help me."

For a moment, you stared down at what was left of Junpei Yoshino, your mind racing. This was an opportunity—an opportunity to understand Mahito’s cursed technique. A twisted idea formed in your mind, one that sent a thrill of dark pleasure coursing through your veins.

But as you knelt beside him, your expression softening into something that almost resembled sympathy, something in Junpei’s fractured mind began to stir. His thoughts were slow, muddled by the transformation and the agony of his new form, but he could still sense something was off. This wasn’t the Y/n he remembered. There was a coldness in your eyes, a sinister edge to your smile that hadn’t been there before. It was subtle, but it was enough to send a tremor of doubt through him.

“Of course, Yoshino,” you cooed, your voice dripping with false sweetness. “I’ll help you… I’ll take away your pain.”

Despite the creeping realization that something was wrong, Junpei found himself nodding, his body responding automatically to your words. He felt an odd sense of reliance on you, a need to cling to the familiar in this nightmare of a reality. Even as a part of him screamed that you weren’t who you seemed, another part—the part that was tired, broken, and desperate—clung to you like a lifeline.

But beneath that gentle facade, your mind was already at work, calculating, planning. You could turn this to your advantage—twist Junpei’s remaining consciousness into something useful, something that would bring you one step closer to your goal. His mind was fragile, broken, but you could mold it, shape it into a weapon against Mahito. And perhaps, in doing so, you’d finally figure out how to save Pochita.

Your smile grew wider, more sinister as you leaned in closer, your breath warm against his cold, clammy skin. “But you’ll have to offer me something,” you whispered, your tone a mockery of compassion. “You want to be free, don’t you? Free from the pain, free from the suffering? How about we do a little contract?”

The transfigured human—what little was left of Junpei—nodded weakly, desperation evident in his every movement. His grip on your pants tightened, his eyes pleading for the relief you had so deceptively promised. Despite the nagging doubt, despite the sense of wrongness that lingered in the back of his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to resist. You were his only hope, his savior in the darkness. He could feel his fear being overridden by a twisted sense of gratitude, almost worship, as if you were some kind of deity offering him salvation.

“Good,” you murmured, your hand gently caressing his mangled hair. “Just let go, Yoshino. Let me take control, let me use you.”

As you began to weave your power into him, binding him to your will, a cold satisfaction filled you. Chains started to surround the both of you, the other end attached to your stomach and the other one attached to his chest.

“Good boy, good boy,” you complimented as his trembling subsided, replaced by a sense of eerie calm. For Junpei, it was as if the chains were not shackles, but a divine connection to you, the one who had freed him from his pain. He felt a twisted comfort in your praise, as if it was the only thing that mattered now. The doubts that had once plagued him began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of loyalty, even reverence.

You gripped your hand on his forehead as you began to breathe in the information, the memories, the feelings, anything from Mahito. Sooner or later, your smile widened as the transfigured human in front of you rapidly changed.

“Souls are interesting to manipulate, aren’t they?” you laughed as the transfigured human changed into Junpei. The boy looked tired, confused. He was about to say something, but you quickly shushed him.

“From now on, you’re under my care. I expect a ‘yes’ or a woof for answers. I don’t need a dog that says ‘no,’” you said as you held Junpei’s face closer to yours. Junpei, flustered, tired, and confused, only nodded. Despite the lingering unease, he couldn’t deny the overwhelming relief he felt now that the pain was gone. The praise in your voice was intoxicating, making him feel as though he would do anything to earn it again.

“Now, Junpei, I want you to get out and confuse that patchwork curse.” You smirked, your tone dripping with a sinister glee. “Don’t tell anyone about our contract, okay?” you added as you rubbed his cheeks with a mock tenderness. “And I don’t want you to work as a Jujutsu Tech sorcerer but as a window, I need someone who works directly for me. Someone who could keep secrets.”

“Yes… Y/n,” Junpei whispered, his voice shaky but resolute. In his altered mind, you were more than just his savior—you were his god, and he would serve you, no matter the cost. The lingering doubts, the faint whispers of who he had been, were silenced in the face of your overwhelming presence. His thoughts no longer his own, Junpei was consumed by the need to obey, to please the one who had freed him from his suffering.

You watched him with a satisfied smirk, the weight of his devotion palpable in the air. The transformation was complete—Junpei was now yours, body and soul.

“Oh, and one more thing,” you said, your tone casual, almost dismissive, as you turned away. But you knew he would hang on your every word, desperate for your approval, eager to fulfill any command you gave. You saw him pause, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

You quickly shrugged off your oversized black trenchcoat, the fabric sliding from your shoulders with a rustling sound that echoed in the silent hallway. Without looking, you tossed it to him, the coat landing heavily in his arms. The gesture was casual, almost careless, but it was loaded with meaning.

“Get dressed,” you commanded, your voice cold, authoritative. There was no room for hesitation in your tone, no space for disobedience.

Junpei caught the trenchcoat, the fabric rough and heavy in his hands. He hesitated for a moment, staring at it as if it held some great power, which, in his mind, it did. It was a piece of you, a token of the bond you had forged through pain and control. The coat was perfect for him, it's dusty but it did not matter. All that mattered was that it had been given to him by you. He slipped it on with trembling hands, the coat's hem brushing just below his knees as he pulled it tightly around his frail body.

As the trenchcoat enveloped him, Junpei felt a strange sense of comfort, almost as if he was wrapping himself in your very essence. It smelled faintly of you—a scent that was both intoxicating and terrifying, a mix of something sweet and something sinister. He felt a shiver run down his spine, not of fear, but of exhilaration. Wearing this coat, he was closer to you, a part of something greater than himself.

“Now,” you said, your voice soft but laced with an underlying threat, “go and mess up with Mahito for me, Junpei.”

“Yes, Y/n,” he responded immediately, his voice stronger now, the coat lending him a false sense of security and purpose. He turned and walked down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps swallowed by the darkness.

As he disappeared into the gloom, you allowed yourself a moment of satisfaction. Everything was falling into place, just as you wanted.

Yuuji hesitated, his heart clenching as a transfigured human in the form of a little boy lunged at him. The boy’s innocent face, twisted by Mahito’s cruel hand, made Yuuji’s resolve waver.

But before the boy could reach him, a voice rang out from behind. “Moon Dreg.”

A massive, jellyfish-like Shikigami materialized, its tentacles lashing out and seizing the transfigured humans. The creatures froze, paralyzed by the Shikigami’s venomous grip. Yuuji spun around, his eyes widening as he saw Junpei standing there, wrapped in a black trenchcoat.

“Junpei!” Yuuji’s voice cracked with surprise and relief as he rushed over to him. “How—how are you here?”

Junpei bit his lip, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face as if something was holding him back from speaking the truth. After a moment, he forced a small, strained smile. “I got lucky,” he replied simply, his voice betraying a hint of something darker beneath the surface.

Yuuji, too relieved to question further, threw his arms around Junpei in a quick, tight hug. The warmth of his friend’s body was a welcome contrast to the cold, hollow despair that had gripped him moments before. But there was no time to dwell on it—Yuuji’s focus snapped back to Mahito, who was watching the scene with a twisted grin.

“Yuuji, go! Take on Mahito,” Junpei urged, his voice firm as he stepped forward. “I’ll handle the transfigured humans.”

Yuuji nodded, determination hardening in his eyes. He turned and sprinted toward Mahito, launching a powerful kick that sent the curse spiraling away from Kento.

Mahito's smile twisted into something darker as he steadied himself. “Haha, did you kill them?” he taunted Yuuji, his voice dripping with amusement.

Before Yuuji could respond, Junpei’s voice cut through the tension. “I did.”

Mahito’s head snapped toward Junpei, his face a mask of confusion and disbelief. He knew he had killed Junpei. So how was he standing here, alive and well?

Yuuji and Kento seized the moment of Mahito’s distraction, launching a barrage of attacks. Fists and feet pummeled Mahito, each strike more powerful and relentless than the last. Despite being overwhelmed, Mahito’s grin never faltered—if anything, he seemed more entertained by the fight.

“Domain Expansion,” Mahito murmured, a smirk playing on his lips as the energy around him warped. The air shimmered as the cursed domain began to take shape. “Self-Embodiment of Perfection!”

Gigantic hands burst from the ground, grasping at the air as the domain enveloped Kento, cutting him off from Yuuji and Junpei.

“Shit!” Yuuji cursed, his eyes wide as he and Junpei leaped back, narrowly avoiding the grasp of the colossal hands.

Inside the domain, darkness reigned, the space filled with the ominous presence of Mahito’s cursed energy. The hands loomed over Kento, casting long, eerie shadows as they reached for him.

“Right now, I’m grateful to you,” Mahito said, his voice echoing through the void. “Idle Transfiguration is all thanks to you.”

Kento removed his glasses, his expression resolute despite the impending danger. “I don’t need your gratitude. I’ve received plenty of it already. I have no regrets.”

Mahito laughed, the sound cold and devoid of humor, but his amusement was short-lived.

Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass reverberated through the domain. Both Mahito and Kento turned toward the source of the noise, their eyes widening in shock. Yuuji, with sheer willpower and determination, had broken into Mahito’s Domain Expansion—a feat thought impossible.

Mahito’s smile faltered as his consciousness was forcibly dragged into Sukuna’s domain. His eyes widened in horror as he began to bleed, his shoulders severed from his body as Sukuna’s attack took its toll. Desperate, Mahito tried to heal, but the damage was too severe, the domain too powerful.

As Mahito’s Domain Expansion collapsed, Yuuji saw his opportunity and launched another brutal assault on the curse. Each punch landed with the weight of his fury and determination to end this nightmare.

In a last, desperate move, Mahito transformed into a large, round version of himself, using every last ounce of his cursed energy. He let Yuuji hit him, the force of the punch causing his form to swell and then pop. In the chaos, Mahito seized his chance to escape, slipping through the drains in a liquid state.

“Bye-bye!” Mahito taunted, his voice echoing through the sewers. “It was fun!”

Kento tried to pursue, slashing at the retreating curse, but Mahito was already gone, his escape too quick to stop. Frustration etched deep lines into Kento’s face as he grabbed his phone, urgently calling for backup.

“Ino-kun, the core escaped,” Kento informed, his voice sharp and focused. “Please direct everything from my location to the southeast. Even you alone could exorcize him right now.” He hung up and turned to Yuuji and Junpei, determination burning in his eyes. “We’ll pursue him too!”

But before he could take a step, Kento froze in his tracks. Yuuji had collapsed to the floor, blood pooling around him, his breath ragged and shallow.

“Yuuji-kun!” Junpei gasped, rushing to his side, his hands trembling as he lifted Yuuji’s head onto his lap.

“Yuuji-kun!” Kento’s voice was urgent as he knelt beside the boys, his eyes scanning Yuuji’s injuries with growing concern.

Notes: is it funny how it took 30 chapters (including prologue) for me to use that one specific line of makima? Anyways, I wanna be frank with y'all, I never gave a fuck about Junpei. The arc did make me feel a bit sad, but I did not care that much about Junpei. But I kinda wanna have a character that's obsessed with yn and Junpei fits the role. Junpei doesn't really have that much for a character aside from him being apathetic or whatever, so it def be ooc. And yes, he would not be in the scenes as much, because he would be one of those “managers” so yah :DDDD. Now we have an obsessed cute loser in our loot. (Totally not my type) Or maybe Junpei might appear more because I kinda like the type of guy who would do anything for you, loser vibe teehee) Also, another reason why I wrote this arc is because I want yn to hate Mahito and have a reason to beat that shit because I HATE HIM.

Kape?: https://ko-fi.com/cyllres

#reader insert #yandere themes #jjk #jjk anime #jujutsu kaisen x reader #platonic yandere #chainsaw man #makima #chainsaw man x reader #pochita

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drakiandh · 9 months

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@cosmicrain-draws @otherxagnela Remember that fusion idea? Im writing out the first chapter rn, and I'm making it a Steven Universe AU. I'm hopefully going to make it a 5 part thing, if I'm able to restrain myself. I'm planning for it to be separate from the shows plot. Here's the original AU idea below!

Scarab is called Painite in this AU. He was made by Pink Diamond as a War General during the Gem War in an attempt to keep up face. He's basically the same just with added loyalty to PD. I'm going to keep him on Earth, more on that later. He is very good at what he does, and I like to think his main power is that he's very very good at shifting his shape and becoming any gem as long as his own gem is covered. I'm saying he can change his red skin to yellow instead of it being red in the new form and can make a fake gem anywhere on his body. A kinda of spy ability, if you will. He doesn't use it often as shifting is exhausting outside of work (and he doesn't have a lot of practice with it as Amathyst does) so he mainly just sticks as a front-lines fighter (even though he's a general, he's fantastic at fighting, so he joins his fellow gems in the main fights instead of being on the sidelines). He has wings, absolutely he does. And his gem got cracked in the war, taking his ability to fly away, like Lapis. I like to think his weapon is like his canon Cyrstal device, as his gem weapon can change into anything he wants it to be. He mainly either keeps it as a spear, a scythe, or an axe. Mainly a scythe tho

Prismo is a bit of a mix for me, can't really decide what gem he should be. So far, I'm going to make him a sapphire. Specifically, a Star Saphire. He was a gift from Blue Diamond to Pink to help with her wartime planning and attacks as he is a lot better at seeing the outcomes of things than other sapphires. His power (other than the future vision thing which he doesn't use cuz it gives him a headache) would be similar to Time-Woods Sīdus. I like to think he can make things, like he can make anything using his gem as long as he either has the right raw materials (which can be anything) or enough energy. He can make everything, ranging from weapons, clothes, to anything you can think of. Even food, but he doesn't make that a lot cuz it grosses him out. At the start of his time with Pink, he acts exactly as he's made, scared that he'll be shattered since he's really the first of his kind. After some time, he and Pearl start talking about how great Pink is (Star wouldn't fawn over her, as he really has no loyalties to any of the Diamonds other than to himself) and he would eventually notices how unhappy she is. Cue them being attacked, and he learns that Pink is actually Rose Quartz. Instead of shattering him, she offers him freedom if he helps with the gem rebellion. He'd take it, hating the oppressing atmosphere of Homeworld, and become the Wishmaster amongst the gems. He'd get that title because he can make, as I said before, anything, and that includes a milder version of Rose's healing tears. Cracked gems would come to him to get healed, he'd help plan attacks on Homeworld forces, and he'd make anything they needed whenever things were going too fast for them. He earns his place in the Crystal Gems and becomes part of the main gang, always seen by Pearl and Rose. His gem weapon would be a similar thing in Seraphyllic, him making 2D versions of his hands and swinging them like a mad man. Painite would have one hell of a time trying to get a hit on Star.

After the war, Painite gets left behind and would survive the diamond blast by hiding deep under the crust of the earth. He would still get corrupted somewhat, which would give him his more buggy features. Star would survive because Rose would pull him under her shield as well and would start just wandering the Earth after all of it is said and done. They accidentally meet when Painite searches for a cure. Of course, Painite sees Star as a traitor and attacks, ending with Star poofing Painite, but not shattering him. Painite's crack wouldn't be healed by Star just yet, I want that to be an intimate moment. Painite would definitely glitch out because of the crack and turn more savage because of the corruption, temporarily losing his mind whenever he got too overwhelmed. Of course, Star is always there to calm him down.

I'm still finicky about the plot, but so far, I'm making Painite go around Earth during the peace and hunt down the other corrupted gems, think the diamonds would heal them once he'd get back to Homeworld. And Star would just be wandering around, exploring Earth and leaving his own little rsster eggs that Painite sees and is always confused about. Yes, Painite still thinks there are no other non corrupted gems on Earth.

Lemme know if you've got any of your own ideas and stuff. I went for a Steven Universe AU cuz I got absolutely stumped on how I could make their shadow versions fuse in a way we haven't seen already. Great work on that art btw, Rain!

#prohibitedwish #prismo the wishmaster #prohibited wish #prismo #scarab the god auditor #scarab fionna and cake #human scarab #the scarab #fionna and cake scarab #adventure time prismo #scarab x prismo #prismo x scarab #human prismo #kinda #they're not really human #steven universe au #imma call this au #Shifting Jewels AU

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freakystrashdump · 1 year

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🔮The Oracle Bakery🔮

Emperor Belos|Phillip Wittebane/OC

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, Belos is a content warning by himself

Read on AO3

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Chapter 15: Daily Potions

Something was amiss.

Belos stirred in his sleep, groaning at the way his back cracked. The sofa in his sitting room, as comfortable as it was, was not made for spending the night on. And he was far too old not to feel the consequences of being cramped in one position on a sofa, caught in some form of half-sleep as he stayed on high alert if his guest needed him in any way.

Magic could only do so much in chasing away the side effects of age.

He sat up, arching his back and feeling (and hearing) it pop back into place, which in return brought a groan to his lips. He rubbed his neck and shoulders, trying to alleviate the tension in his muscles, ice blue eyes squinting as they struggled to adjust to the darkness of the room. He found the longcase clock in the darkness and could just make out the time - twenty minutes to five in the morning.

Something woke him up.

Belos ran a hand through his hair and leaned back, looking and listening. What was it? He thought through the haze of his sleep-ridden brain. His eyes were glazed over as he stared out the window, catching a glimpse of the moon's light from behind the clouds. He exhaled a deep, long sigh as a feeling of fondness washed over him.

The moon brought comfort, even if it wasn’t his moon. It wasn’t the moon he knew. And yet still…

He wondered briefly if Magnus was still waiting outside the doors. He managed to talk Hunter out of pacing a hole in the carpet outside with how he nervously walked in circles, waiting for any news about the Oracle - the teen looked absolutely stricken with guilt and it made his worry all the more intense.

But the older Fortuna was not that easy to chase off.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“I can assure you, Fortuna, your niece is receiving the best care in the Boiling Isles.” Belos asserted, patience slowly wearing thin as he felt like he was speaking to a wall at this point.

He came out to greet Magnus, the Fortuna prodigy and next in line for Coven Head of the Oracle Coven, assure him that Selena was doing alright and was on her way to recovery, and hopefully get him to leave . Belos didn’t like knowing that someone was waiting in front of his chambers, alert and on guard and probably holding a grudge towards him at the moment, the thought filling him with unease.

Magnus, however, didn’t move from his place as he listened to the Emperor. A purple magic construct serving as a place to sit, he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, a scowl ever present on his face.

And you didn’t have to be an Oracle to feel the grim, oppressing aura emanating from him. It made Belos’ hair stand on end.

The oracle prodigy rolled his shoulders, the scowl never leaving him “I have no doubts she is, Emperor Belos.” he proceeded in an even, cold tone “There is no safer place than the palace - even if it is where she got hurt.” Belos clenched his teeth at that remark “But I’ll leave after I personally have made sure she is safe.”

Damned be the stubbornness of the Fortunas…

“I can’t let you see her, Selena is resting. And it is of critical importance that she is not disturbed.” Belos tried not to let his irritation show “Her recovery depends on it. I’m sure you understand.”

“Then I’ll wait.” Magnus shot back, the bark in his voice letting the Emperor know this conversation was over and that he wasn’t moving on his own free will no matter how many sweet words and reassurance he had to offer him.

Belos clenched his fists, eyes narrowing behind the mask “ Fine . Wait, then.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damned be the stubbornness of the Fortunas indeed. Like a pack of wild cats, never letting themselves be tamed, always hissing and spitting at anyone trying to control them. He spent years herding them in, keeping them in check, earning their trust, and still they barred their teeth. They were too influential, too annoyingly powerful to be left unleashed.

Selena was much tamer than the rest of her kin, but the teeth were still there, still sharp. She still bristled like a feral kitten away from its mother at his hands as he tried to capture her, spitting as he got closer.

A foolish endeavour from her part. She’ll appreciate him caging her in the end.

Lost in thought - that's when he finally heard it.

The thing that woke him up.

He left the door to his bedchamber ajar, so he could hear if the girl inside needed anything throughout the night. And while he had no real intention of sleeping, he had turned the lights off, not wanting them to seep through the door and disturb her rest. At some point he had lied down for a second, just to rest his body, and the next thing he knew, he was out like a light. And now, through the door, he heard a faint whimper.

Belos was on his feet in seconds, grabbing at the mask he left on the tea table before lying down hours before, and put it on in a haste, letting out a low hiss when he accidentally put it on too fast and too hard, the action giving his nose a knock with the metal. Despite that, he rushed to his bedchambers.

"Selena?" He called out as soon as he opened the door. She was there, sitting on the bed and hugging her knees. Her head snapped to face him as soon as she heard him intrude, a gasp escaping her lips.

Crying. She was crying.

"I…I'm sorry, I just…" she immediately started apologising, wiping her face to hide any evidence of her tears.

Belos was immediately at her side "Hush, hush now." He whispered, trying to soothe her.

"I- I woke you up, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't worry, it's okay." Belos whispered "Are you alright?" She lowered her head, not wanting to look at him, but he was having none of it. He bent over slightly, trying to catch her eyes "Hmm?" He coaxed further.

"I just…" Selena let out a little sniffle "It's a lot."

"It is, isn't it?" Belos sighed, leaning back on his arms.

"I do nothing but cause trouble." He heard her mutter into her knees.

"No, you don't."

"Yes I do!" Selena snapped around to face him, hair flying around her face with a life of its own "This whole fia sco would have never happened if I wasn't so… so careless!" She frowned in frustration and continued "And even then, maybe if we never fought, I wouldn't have been so absentminded to the point of carelessness!" Her clenched fist hit the mattress, the bubbling anger more than apparent "And that never would have happened in the first place if I hadn't attempted to bond with your nephew - all that accomplished was you being angry at me and your nephew now hates me, too!" She buried her head once again in her knees.

Belos watched her, unsure of which part of her breakdown to address first. He hesitated, lips opening and closing as he did, before settling on one "Hunter doesn't hate you."

Probably the wrong thing to say, he thought, as Selena's head whipped to him, fury etched on her face “Do not try and spare my feelings.” she hissed through sobs “You were right, my token of kindness was unneeded and a burden. He hates it!” she had to laugh at herself as the annoyance came back full swing, and she furiously blinked back the tears “He…hates it.” she shook her head and looked away as her anger once more subsided into desperation, hiding her face from him again. She covered her head with her arms as she did, wanting nothing more than to curl up into a tiny, inconspicuous ball.

This…

This was not what he had anticipated.

At least, not in such abundance. Belos knew she would react badly as he let the inevitable blow-up from Hunter play out. The boy was primed to be untrustworthy of her from the start, and him reacting in anger was not something he had to influence him to do. So he let it play out, keeping her on ice until it did, just to make sure it hits her hard, as penance for going behind his back. But this much guilt and anger which choked up in her throat, it wasn’t in his plan. Her face flushed with embarrassment, eyes reddened with tears as she continued to curse herself, it was as heart wrenching of a sight as it was intoxicating.

Perhaps the near death experience amplified her emotions.

Her reacting so strongly was not part of his plan. Admittedly, her starting this entire little endeavour behind his back wasn’t what he had expected in the first place , either, but she had started making it a habit of taking him by surprise.

Selena doing something secretive, and with Hunter - it was like a trigger being pulled, left over sensitive and raw by having to watch way too many grimwalkers, sooner or later, go behind his back over one thing or another. A betrayal, after betrayal, after betrayal , just like-

And Hunter… Hunter was so much like him . Despite everything, he didn't want to replace him, not so soon. Not ever , if he could help it.

Lord, give him just this one

So his temper flared - he wished it hadn’t. Not in front of her. Not when she was opening up to him. It was a miscalculation, a misstep, a pesky emotional reaction he never should have let surface. But it had, and now the spiralling consequences caught up, always spiralling consequences, which he struggled so hard to control. He had to have control, if he didn’t, then he loses , and he can’t bare to lose-

Belos could feel himself spiralling, slowly but surely, the stress from the day prior creeping up in the dead of the night, making his throat clench and breathing pick up. The woman next to him continuing her rant, however, was more than enough to drag him back before his thoughts ventured further.

"And I missed the stupid… Blight sale, too!" Her temper flared, open palm hitting the mattress out of frustration "I promised to be there, and I wasn't!" She pressed her knuckles to her forehead as she pouted "And I didn't get to see Odalia's face turn red with anger at that letter I was gonna give her, either!"

It served well enough. Dragging him back from the edge. The childishly petty comment Selena made at the end was more than enough to lift his spirits.

"I'm sure Hunter would be more than happy to tell you all about how madam Blight reacted to the letter you intended for her." Belos said coolly, satisfied when he got the dumbfounded reaction he wanted to see. Feeling smug, he further elaborated "Hunter volunteered to go in your stead. With how worried he seemed for your wellbeing, I couldn't refuse such a request."

He saw how the cogs turned in her head, trying to make sense of things "He was…worried?" She asked softly, bewildered.

Belos nodded "He seemed very eager, as well." He raised his hand and placed it on top of her head. "I do not know what transpired between you two, but I can tell you with certainty that Hunter felt incredibly guilty because of it." He chuckled as he continued "He had been patrolling outside my chambers ever since you were brought here, hoping I'd invite him in to see you. It took quite a bit of convincing on my part before he left to get some rest."

Hearing this seemed to have finally placated the oracle. Not fully, mind you, but enough that her chest stopped shaking with sobs and her eyes became a little less dull. Still, Selena stayed silent and withdrawn, her mind running a thousand miles an hour. Knowing it would take a little more coaxing before she let him charm her back to sleep, Belos stretched his arm out towards the door, the red glow of his magic more than noticeable in the darkness of the night.

"How about some warm soup?" He offered as a full bowl floated into the room, into his awaiting hand. "There was still some mist coming from your lips when you were sobbing, Hettie said it would help."

Selena peeked from where she sat as he offered it to her "That doesn't look very warm to me."

Belos raised an eyebrow behind his mask. With his other hand, he spun his finger above the soup, once, twice, and in seconds hot steam rose above the bowl, which he then offered once more to the girl. She gave it a distrusting look, eyes fleeting up to him for a second (forgetting in her exhausted state that she could not get a read on his expression, as he was still very much hidden behind a mask), before gingerly reaching out and accepting the bowl into her hold. Selena readjusted herself on the bed, sitting with her back propped up against the numerous pillows and headboard, she cradled the soup between her chest and her knees.

Abandoning the spoon completely, she brought the bowl to her lips, taking a tentative gulp "It's…very nice." Selena muttered, the edge of the bowl resting on her bottom lip. "Thank you, Emperor."

"You're welcome." Belos returned just as politely "Now make sure to finish the entire thing, the warmth should help chase the frostmist clear out of your lungs."

Selena noded, taking another sip. It was easy to eat it that way, as it was a clear soup, no noodles and just the occasional chopped veggie. She definitely could feel the warmth spreading from the inside with every single gulp, reminding her of the way hot cocoa felt so amazing after coming inside the winter cabin they would rent at the Knee. It felt nostalgic, somehow.

The two settled into a somewhat comfortable silence, or the closest thing to it. The emperor was even being polite enough not to stare insistently, as he so usually did, instead his gaze transfixed on to the window across the room from them.

"Have you calmed down a little?"

Selena didn't look at him, opting to stare ahead as well "...a little."

There was a deep hum from Belos, acknowledging her answer. They stayed like that for a moment or two longer. Both choosing to remain silent on the dark thoughts that loomed over their heads, like a gloom cloud threatening to brim over with boiling rain, leaving burn marks everywhere in its wake.

"Perhaps-" Belos started slowly "-we should try bringing your thoughts away from…such a dark place." His head tilted slightly towards her "How about you tell me all about when you started being so interested in humans?"

There was a loud sigh which could have passed as a groan coming from the Oracle "Oh Titan…I don't think I can say it." She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes "It's embarrassing. You'll just laugh at me."

"I promise I won't."

Selena now let out an actual groan "No, you totally will! Believe me!" When he chuckled, she pointed at him accusingly "There, you already started!"

"Selena." The man pleaded, and Selena could imagine the puppy dog eyes he must have been pulling behind the mask "I promise. Please?"

Hearing him say please so sweetly (well, hearing him say please at all), it gave her goosebumps and made her head feel light. And it definitely cracked her resolve like a griffin egg, all the way through.

Well, it couldn't hurt, she reasoned with herself. It was just a super embarrassing story from her youth she was about to tell to the Emperor of the Isles, no big deal.

Sighing really, really deeply, she started her story "When I was younger. And dumber ." She handed him the almost finished bowl of soup, and Belos placed it on the night table "I already heard stories about humans, right? How they come from another realm, weird, with no magic, kind of high-strung. It’s rumoured that, sometimes… they're witch hunters, too." She grimaced at that, not noticing how Belos turned his head away at that statement. "Well, when I was about… maybe eleven? Or was it twelve? It was a while ago, I can't remember precisely. Either way, we were supposed to write an essay for school. It was all about how well we could do research, so we were free to choose any subject, and I decided that the human realm should be an easy thing to write about."

Still staring into the distance, Belos interjected "And was it? Easy to write about?"

Selena let out a little huff through her nose instead of laughing fully "Surprisingly, it really wasn't." She responded with a small smile as she sank further into the many pillows behind her "The available literature was limited, and it seemed…very badly researched." She scrunched up her nose disapprovingly "If I could notice that at my age, you could only imagine what it was like." Belos let out a small laugh under his breath at that assessment, and she joined him as she remembered further "I was so upset, you wouldn't believe it." Selena snickered "Here was an assignment I thought would be effortless on my part, and it was giving me such a headache. I complained loudly to my parents about it, how all the literature was trash, and how was it possible the library didn't have better books on humans? And they, in return, told my grandparents and uncle about how cute I was, all outraged and stomping my feet over unprofessional scientific papers at the age of, like, twelve."

"I don't blame them." Belos added, mirth obvious in his voice "You probably were very cute."

Thank the Titan for the shroud of the night, because Selena felt her cheeks flushing at that comment.

"A-anyway-" she stuttered slightly "-it was my uncle who came to the rescue. He persuaded master librarian Malphas to let us into the Forbidden Stacks. It wasn't that hard - apparently he was indebted to my grandmother after she predicted a devastating fire in the library, that they were then able to stop before it destroyed everything. So, Magnus took me to the off-limits wing, where there were more obscure books about humans and their realm. I think running through the Forbidden Stacks and climbing the bookshelves as high as the ceiling has to be one of my fondest memories." She smiled softly to herself as she remembered "But none of the books there came close to this one journal I found, hidden away."

She failed to hear how Belos' breath hitched in his lungs "A journal, you say?"

"The personal journal of a human called Philip Wittebane.” she smiled fondly ”A long time ago, he explored the Demon Realm. Humans used to come here, can you believe it?" Selena sighed dreamily, and then hid her face behind her hands "Goodness, it's so embarrassing just thinking about it!" She giggled nervously behind her hands "But the way he wrote, oh! It captivated me, every part of me! I read the journal over and over, cover to cover, like such a little lovestruck weirdo. I started imagining what it would be like, meeting this human from centuries ago. Then I started writing about it in my own journal, too - Make believe stories where we meet and he whisks me away to the human realm."

It was all too much - Belos couldn't stop himself. His shoulders were shaking as he did his best to stifle the laugh, his hand flying under the mask to cover his mouth and muffle any sound threatening to escape. Seeing this, the oracle gasped in outrage.

"Emperor!" Selena whined, hiding behind her fingers once more "You promised!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" As soon as he opened his mouth to apologise, a louder laugh escaped him "I simply couldn't help myself!"

The oracle groaned, sliding down on the bed till she was barely visible from the cushions and covers surrounding her "I knew it, I told you so!" She despaired loudly, which only served to fuel the fire behind Belos' laugh more.

"Come on now, don't be like that, it's sweet!" Belos tried reassuring her "It's very sweet, really it is!"

"You can't even say that with a straight face!"

With lungs still filled with laughter, Belos reached for her, taking the wrist closest to him and pulling that hand away from her face, exposing her while she tried to hide. "I mean it - it's a type of innocent wonder only a child could hold. Thank you for sharing that story with me, I very much enjoyed it." he tilted his head to the side “A little crush on a human, how quaint .”

Selena struggled to hide her entire face with only one hand, so unfortunately one eye was peeking out through her fanned out fingers, forced to face Belos "I'm glad someone at least enjoyed it, because I for one am mortified." Her complaining only made him snicker again, very obviously enjoying the torment she was being put through "You should have let the black ice take me."

This earned her a laugh from the emperor "Unfortunately -" he started cheekily, releasing her wrist from his grip "- it would seem that Lady Luck decided not to let the ice take you. Or, in layman's terms: You're stuck with me, my dear."

"It would seem so." Selena muttered, unconsciously placing the hand that he let her take back gingerly against her cheek. Thanks to the frostmist that still lingered in her body, It felt noticeably warmer from his touch. "Well, for better or for worse it is, then, that we're stuck together." She half-joked, a dry chuckle escaping her.

"For better or for worse." Belos echoed, decidedly, as if putting a dot at the end of that conversation "I do wonder, though, whatever happened to the journal?" He changed the subject, catching her by surprise.

"Oh, hmm." Selena thought about it "I tried sneaking it back home, but I was caught and forced to return it. It's probably still in the forbidden stacks." Selena moved around, pushing the pillows around and getting more comfy on the bed. "Probably for the worse, the stacks were not in the best of shape when I was last there, there were way too many echo mice in there for comfort." Crossing her arms, her brows knitted together in thought "I remember copying parts of it by hand to bring home, not much of it because I was still writing an essay but… I wonder if any of that survived the last move, it was stacked in a box somewhere in the old house's attic I think…"

Letting out a deep, forlorn sigh, Selena finally seemed to have nestled fully in the bed. "I don't know… call it a weird oracle sixth sense or whatever you wish, but I feel like the journal probably got damaged beyond repair through the years." The way she pursued her lips and her eyes squinted, it was obvious she believed that truly and that it made her heart ache.

“That is very defeatist of you.”

“Unfortunately, I’m rarely wrong on such matters.” she said, more decidedly, a certainty in her voice as she defended her forementioned sixth sense she spoke of earlier. "It breaks my heart to think about it, but the Stacks really are a place books go to die.” She turned to lie on her side, pulling the covers tightly under her arms, eyes at half-mast as they gazed sleepily up at the man sitting at the edge of the bed “Some of it still remains, though, up here.” her fingers gently rapped against her forehead to further illustrate her point “Shame that memories tend to be so fickle, though.”

Belos scooched slightly closer, leaning over the girl's form as he watched her let out a tiny yawn “Memories are all we have sometimes, and are more precious than any books lost to time.” he said as his hand slowly raised, pressing the tips of his middle and index finger to her forehead "Now, get some rest, Lena."

With a soft exhale, the magic washed over her and Selena was out like a light.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next time Selena awoke, the room was bright, washed in the warm rays of the sun. She hailed the morning, after a night that seemed to have lasted far too long. It almost felt like a dream, a hallucination, as bits and pieces came together the more her brain awoke, forming into one coherent story.

Her thoughts wandered back, as she puzzled together the pieces of the dream that plagued her after her waltz with death, but it felt useless as her mind would default back again and again to the late night conversations with the Emperor. To how he made sure she was taken care of, and that she would recover no matter the cost.

To how she was in the Emperor's most private chambers, occupying his bed, wearing a man's button up blouse that hung loosely over her hands and down to her thighs. It didn't take a genius to connect whose blouse it was.

Who changed her, anyway?!

So the dream (if she could even really call it one because there was a nagging feeling in the back of her head that it may have been a bit too real to be either a dream or a premonition or omen), while she could recall it perfectly, lay forgotten in lieu of more…pressing issues.

However, she didn't get much time to herself (or her thoughts) - mere minutes after she opened her eyes, the room was crowded by Emperor Belos and coven head Hettie.

"Perfect!" Hettie cooed as she checked her vitals "You are recovering just perfectly, my Lady! At this rate, I feel confident in dismissing you by this afternoon!" She turned to Selena, who was trying not to stare too long at either her or Belos (who loomed behind the healer, watching her work), feeling too self-conscious now when she wasn’t hidden away by the shroud of night "Alright, my Lady, head and back straight, look directly up and take in the deepest breath you can-" Selena did exactly as she ordered, lying on her back straight as a plank "-aaaand exhale all the way out, let all the air out of your lungs…there we go! Good, good " she muttered to herself, taking out a little vial from her belt "There is barely any frostmyst left, just some bubbling over your lips before it completely dissipates. Here, you should take one last dose of Vitimir's potion, just as a safety precaution."

Belos reached over and took the vial from her before she could offer it to Selena "I'll make sure she drinks it, thank you Hettie."

If she found it weird, Hettie didn't show it. Just lifted the edge of her lips slightly, a hint of a smirk "Of course, Emperor. I trust you will." She replied and stood up from where she sat on the edge of the bed

"...I can drink it by myself…" Selena let out childishly, but her objection was received to deaf ears.

"Now my lady, I trust you to be a good girl and listen to our Emperor. He only has your best interest in mind - you won't get better care anywhere else on the Isles!" Hettie chastised cheerfully "And make sure to finish your soup, too!" She added at the end, pleased as pudding when she got an obedient "Yes, ma'am" from her patient. She made her way to the door, more than happy to entrust her care into the Emperor's capable (and awaiting) hands.

Following her to the door, Belos addressed her in a hushed tone "Is Magnus still outside?"

"I don't think he ever left, my Lord." Hettie answered "Should I let him in?"

Belos shook his head “No, I’ll call for him myself. Just tell him she's doing alright.” He put a hand to her shoulder, leaning in slightly "If it is not too much trouble, can you send for the Golden Guard? The boy was very troubled last night, I'd like to ease his worries as well."

"Of course, Emperor Belos. It will pose no trouble at all."

And just like that, with a bow and a smile, Hettie was gone. Leaving only Belos and Selena in his royal bedchambers once more. He stood by the door, looking out and waiting for Hettie to leave his sitting room, then quietly closing the door.

"Busy, busy." Selena heard him sigh, his back still turned to her "At least you are well on the road to recovery." He looked at her over his shoulder "But how are you feeling, Selena?"

“As well as I could, Emperor.” The woman sat up in bed, making sure to keep the (now substantially less of them) covers up to her waist. The mens button-up she wore covered down to the middle of her thighs, but she wasn’t taking any chances. With a dry chuckle, she added “All things considered”

“All things considered indeed .” he repeated as he made his way back to her, taking up the spot on the edge of the bed once more as he had numerous times before. “Perhaps this could be a learning moment for you, then, about the dangers of fraternising with wild witches.” Selena groaned, throwing her head back and sinking back into the pillows “Don’t groan at me." He chastised her, in a very parental manner "I did warn you, but I suppose you just have too soft of a heart." He did sound earnest, but the oracle could hear his words as nothing more than mocking.

“Oh come now, Emperor Belos, and we were having such a wonderful time together.” she snapped back “Don’t ruin it.”

“These wild witches, these untrustworthy hexen , they are dangerous-”

“No more dangerous than any witch in a coven!”

“I was terrified!” he raised his voice, the tone making Selena flinch, the worry in his words coiling tightly around her heart “Your skin was blue, it was cold as ice to the touch, I was convinced you met your death!” he turned away from her, focusing instead on his open palm. “I held you in my arms and could not feel your heartbeat, could not hear you breathing-” his voice cut off, trembling, like it could not go further as the memories swarmed him.

He… was the one who held her?

All the anger she held when he started to push his crusader agenda dissipated in seconds, replaced instead by guilt. Guilt that she made him worry this much. The hurt in his voice was like a vice in her chest, constricting and painful. Without thinking, she reached for him, wanting nothing more than to offer comfort. Against her better judgement, shaking hands found his arm, resting on his back and bicep, tugging him just a sliver closer to her as she leaned towards him, letting her forehead press against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Selena let out, just above a whisper “I’m sorry to have made you worry.”

She knew she crossed boundaries that never should be crossed, coming so close to the ruler of the Isles; her heart fluttered in fear at the thought. But as she heard his erratic breathing hitch in his throat, as if he forgot how to breathe for a moment, before he let out a long, shaky breath, one she felt under her skin, feeling how he calmed down at her touch, she let those worries go to the back of her mind. If he minded it, he didn’t word it out loud.

Perhaps the Emperor was right. Perhaps she did have too soft of a heart.

Afterall, here she was, comforting the man she considered her enemy. If that wasn’t a sign of weakness, too caring, too soft and easily manipulated, then nothing was. So much of a bleeding heart that all the disgust and fear she would feel at his touch was long forgotten. All it took was him showing a glimmer of genuine emotion. She didn’t even flinch when his hand covered the one she had placed on his arm, letting him do so and find comfort.

“I’m fine now.” she reassured him “So you don’t need to worry anymore.” she gave his arm a squeeze, one last offer of comfort, and pulled away. His hand lingered where it was, where it held hers, for a moment longer. As if savouring the touch.

Belos let out a long, heavy sigh “You’re fine now.” he muttered low and under his breath, the only reason Selena heard him was because it was the only sound in the tranquillity of the bedchambers. And, despite it only lasting seconds, to Selena it felt like they hadn’t moved for painstakingly long minutes. She memorised every single speckle on the back of her hands as she held them in her lap where she sat, feeling too awkward to look anywhere else.

Finally, finally , she heard the Emperor clear his throat and straightened his back, gathering up the last of his dignity that he let crumble for a moment, putting back the facade. Just the little change in his posture felt like it changed his entire demeanour, like it erased completely what transpired just moments before.

The way he controlled the room was nothing short of both astounding and terrifying.

He turned back around, facing her once more and beckoning her closer “Come, I need to administer the last potion to you.”

Vaguely, Selena remembered mentions of a potion, one that Hettie wanted to give her but that Belos snatched away before she could “I can drink it by myself.” The protest was weak on her lips and they both knew it.

“Now now.” he tutted and examined the vial he held up in the air. It was gold in colour, warm and glowing (which made sense as it was meant to chase away the cold) “What did dear Hettie say to you before she left?”

It took a second for Selena to snap her attention away from the glowing gold in the vial, images of golden moths dancing in the back of her mind “Uhh… to be good and listen to the Emperor?”

“That’s right, good job.” Selena felt her entire body bristle at the dripping condescension “To be a good girl and listen to your Emperor, if we want to be more precise.” he turned to her, and this time, his eyes were glowing behind the mask “Now, be a good girl for me and come here.”

Whatever sympathy, whatever grace there was, it burned up, eaten by the blue blaze that lay dormant in her chest where Belos had lit it the first time he dared call her that. It overpowered everything else in an instant, swallowed it whole, until she felt nothing but the fire and the smoke, burning up from the inside. She told herself it was anger, even though anger ran red, not ice blue (just like his eyes). And now after she had felt the biting cold of the black ice, feeling this again made her head spin .

Every time he called her that she made a mental note to beat up and traumatise more of his precious little scouts.

"Come, Selena, I don't have all day." Belos gripped her wrist, giving an insistent tug. Which, taken aback and overwhelmed as she was, didn't register fully with her, so her body instinctively scooched over.

Way too close.

"Your uncle has been waiting outside, by the way." Belos mentioned offhandedly, letting go of her wrist once he was satisfied with how close she was. "As soon as we are done with your medicine, I'll let him in to see you."

"My- Magnus?" His spell on her seemed to break on her momentarily "How- how long has he been waiting?"

Belos didn't answer right away, instead turning the vial in his hand, then removing the cork at the top with a surprisingly loud 'pop' "Oh, I'd say he had been patrolling outside my room the entire night, like a caged animal." His hand, surprisingly casually as if he's done this a hundred times before, loosely gripped her jaw "Now, the potion is apparently hot going down, so try not to jerk away until you've drunk it all."

"I, uh, I guess I'll try?" Selena let out nervously, eyes bouncing between the potion in his other hand and his mask, not quite sure where to even look and not feel like dying of embarrassment.

She heard him let out a loud breath through his nose, a hint of a chuckle "Good girl."

Titan damn him, why does he have to do that-

Belos pressed the vial to her parted lips, the fingers gripping her jaw tilting her head back as he did. The liquid hit her tongue, and it tasted… sparkly. Is that even a taste? Either way, it was the closest word she could use to describe it. Selena quickly swallowed, and it felt swelteringly hot as it went down her throat. A jarring opposite to how the frostmist felt when it started taking over her lungs. Selena shuddered as her entire body flushed with heat. It was as if she took a full gulp from the boiling sea itself.

It didn't hurt, at least not in the way one would expect burning to hurt, but Titan it felt bad .

Selena jerked away fast, despite the emperor's prior warnings, but the hand on her jaw kept her static as the last of the potion drained from the vial. Belos tsk'd loudly, removing the vial away from her lips and tugging her closer to him, his mask uncomfortably close "Selena, I told you Not. To. Move." He warned, enunciating his point by jolting her head to the beat of his last three words.

He watched as the witches entire face scrunched up and turned red - he could feel it grow hot where he held her - eyes closed and lips pursed shut as she tried to shake his hold off of her "Did you swallow all of it?" Feverishly, she nodded, and he let go of her jaw "Good."

Selena instantly jumped back, decorum and modesty be damned as she landed on her bum, covers gone and forgotten. She clutched at her chest as the heat burned all the way down, spreading through her veins like liquid metal. It felt horrid, absolutely horrid (especially for her, who never was a fan of the sweltering weather of the Isles, this was torture) . Selena doubled over, feeling something bubble in her chest and rise up the same path that the accursed potion just went down through.

A gentle hand landed on top of her head, running through her hair "Breathe, Selena."

Such a strong sense of deja vu.

The oracle exhaled deeply, letting out the air that was trapped in her lungs before she started convulsing. And while she couldn't see it, on account of her eyes being screwed shut, she could feel it - feel it move up her windpipe, push up her throat, and bubble at her mouth, leaving her lips and caressing her cheeks as it spiralled up and above into the air.

"There we go." She heard Belos hum above her.

His fingers detangling her hair felt strangely soothing.

When it (she assumed it was a lingering bubble of frostmist still lodged in her lungs) was out, the sweltering heat started to subside. She had to concentrate on her breathing, feeling like she ran a mile, having to manually force herself not to gulp it down greedily like she just came up for air. And, worst of all, Selena felt super gross. Now that the overwhelming feeling of flames had been snuffed out just as fast as it came, she realised just how clammy and sweaty her skin had become.

"That was…" a pathetic whine left her, which she tried her best to mask as annoyance "...that was the absolute worst."

She heard Belos chuckle above her, giving her a little pat. "You're far too old to act like a baby about taking your medicine."

The oracle scoffed loudly. Becoming aware that the sheets - that were so pleasantly cold before - had become disgustingly warm, she straightened up, doing her best to push down the button up blouse down her thighs as she did. "Yeah, I'd like to see how you'd handle that." She ran her hand through her hair and grimaced - her scalp was uncomfortably hot, and the base of her hair was covered in sweat.

Gross.

"I wasn't the one who almost died."

"No, but if it weren't for me, you would have been dead."

She saw his glowing eyes narrow in annoyance "Touche."

Gods, she hated feeling this warm. She was actually yearning for the cold that rattled her bones whilst she was buried under piles of blankets. Forming a spell circle, Selena lifted it up to her face, the glowing ring blowing air into her face like a fan. She let out a content sigh. It felt like heaven on her flushed skin.

"That should have been the last of the frostmist, according to Hettie." Belos explained, slowly getting to his feet "So you should be clear to leave later today."

Selena was in too much bliss to look at him, eyelids fluttering shut at the pleasant breeze "What time is it?"

"Seven forty five in the morning." Belos quickly answered, heading for the door "I'll call for Magnus, but before I do-" he paused once he reached the door, opening it and looking back at her. Hearing him trail off like that, Selena cracked one eye open, and saw his glowing eyes move over her, starting from her face and slowly (uncomfortably so) moving all the way down "-perhaps you should make yourself more… presentable?"

Her eyebrows arched up in confusion, craning her neck down to follow his gaze -

The magic fan ring was all in vain as her face flushed hot once again. To her absolute horror, most of the buttons on the blouse had come undone without her noticing, revealing way too much of her thighs than any self respecting lady of her stature would be comfortable showing a man. With a loud squeak, she scrambled for one of the covers, struggling to untangle it from under her.

She heard doors open and close, but not before the now unmistakable sound of the Emperor's deep, satisfied chuckle.

She cursed him internally just as she accidentally fell over unceremoniously after she pulled on the cover under her too hard.

Oh, Midnight was gonna have a blast taking out all these anger issues stacking on top of each other like a game of jenga as soon as she was out of the palace.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Just like he promised, Emperor Belos had let her uncle come into his private abode, to visit her and make sure she was safe. Magnus, ever the stoic, intimidating figure, walked in with a familiar scowl on his face, an aura of doom and gloom entering before even he did.

The oppressive aura lifted the moment he saw her.

Before she could even greet him properly, he power walked to her and enveloped her in a spine-breaking embrace, almost knocking her completely over.

"Thank the Titan you're okay." Magnus muttered into her hair, hanging on to her even tighter, her much smaller frame completely engulfed and hidden from sight by him.

"I'm fine, uncle, I'm fine." Selena managed to wheeze out, patting his back in an attempt to get him to lessen his grip "Don't worry, I'm fine."

"I was worried sick!" Magnus gave one last squeeze, making Selena let out a breathless squeak of pain, and released her. Holding her by the shoulders, his eyes moved erratically over her face, checking to see if anything was amiss. "The moment I heard the news spread through the palace, that someone was hurt, I knew it was you."

Yeah, the Oracle senses sometimes really sucked. The feeling of dread in one's gut that something bad happened tends to be correct nine times out of ten.

Magnus' eyes softened when he saw no injury on her, and he took her face into his hands, sighing as he felt his heart fill with ease. She was there. She wasn't dead. Selena, seeing his worry, put her hands over his.

"I was careless." She said quietly "And I got hurt trying to fix it. But I'm alright now." She looked behind Magnus at Belos, who stood by the door with his arms crossed while he observed them, like a fly on the wall. "Emperor Belos, in all his grace, made sure I was given the best of care."

"It was the least I could do to thank you for saving my life." At the sound of Belos' voice, she saw Magnus' scowl deepen.

Magnus was, according to her mom and gran, a tightly woven bundle of anger, bubbling under the very thin surface. Not that Selena ever saw that anger come out except for a specifically scathing remark, or in the constant scowl he wore. Not to say Ursula and Isabella weren't known for being spitfires themselves. However, the two of them didn’t try to hide it or internalise it, like Magnus did. It’s… hereditary , to say the least.

Magnus, however, never let it show, at least not in front of her nor her siblings. Which didn’t mean she didn’t know it was there, oh no. She knew, and right now, she saw it in that scowl and the ugly downturn of his lips. And knowing the possibility of his horrid temper rearing its ugly head, already showing in how his lips snarled, and knowing how absolutely unhinged Emperor Belos could be, Selena panicked internally once the realisation hit that if there was a clash, it would leave no prisoners. In this room - nor in the Palace for that matter.

Titan, how could he torture her like this, forcing her in to the position where she was forced to walk the tightrope as she was thrust in to the position of peacemaker to these two fully grown men.

Selena gripped her uncle's hands harshly, nails digging in, forcing his attention back to her. She frowned at him, giving a decisive glare from under her brows, and gave him a very miniscule shake of her head.

“The Emperor has been very kind to me, staying by my bedside vigilantly.” she asserted, glowering daggers into his eyes “I could not have asked for better company.”

“Don’t start anything, damn you.” She forced her way into his mind, opening a telepathic connection just to deliver the warning, cutting it off cold turkey as soon as she had her say. The message was simple - she wasn’t taking any objections.

Magnus, taken aback by how quickly her presence came and left his mind, seemed dumbfounded for a second, eyes widening and eyebrows arching up. But he quickly shook it off, his trademark glare returning along with a grimace as he bared his teeth in annoyance. He rolled his eyes dramatically and pulled his hands away from her face, the irritated expression clearly saying “Fine. But I do not have to like it.”

The older Fortuna decided to stop crowding her and moved to the edge of the bed, opting to just pretend Belos wasn’t there. “When will you be let out?”

“Later today.” Selena smiled when she saw him relax his face, forcing himself to calm down “I was given potions by coven head Vitimir that helped remove the curse, and they worked so well that coven head Hettie cleared me earlier this morning.”

“I’ll be there to take you.” Magnus quickly answered, not leaving her room for arguments as he cast a spell circle, summoning his personal crystal ball to him. It landed heavily in his hand. “Now, Ursula said to contact her as soon as I got to you-” he saw Selena’s eyes widen in horror as soon as he said that “-don’t give me that look, of course I told her! She’s your mother!”

“B-b-but do you have to call her?!” she glanced nervously at Belos “Now?!”

“She needs to know you’re okay.” Magnus stated matter-of-factly “Everyone in the family has been worried since last night!”

Selena whined in despair and ran her hands down her face. Peeking from behind her uncle, she addressed the Emperor, who was leaning against the wall near the door and waiting patiently “Ah… Emperor Belos, I know it’s incredibly rude of me to ask you this, but -”

Belos raised his hand, a gesture that silenced her in an instant “I’ll give you privacy, do not worry.” he replied coolly and pushed himself off the wall “I’d hate to intrude on a touching family moment like this.”

“Thank you.” Selena smiled at him, a weight taken off of her chest as he left the room and closed the door behind him.

#the owl house #the oracle bakery #philip wittebane #philip wittebane x oc #emperor belos #emperor belos x oc #fanfiction #reader insert #self insert

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gomzdrawfr · 1 month

Text

[oc rambles - AU]

note: this is a GhostRaven AU :3 naming it Ethereal AU for now

I was struck with inspiration after finding art from this account, specifically this, this, this and that

so here's a short opening, reviewed by my friend (because the initial draft was so messy KSJHGKAH i swear it's hard trying to write "darkness" with other meaning especially when synonyms have been used up, I gave up in the end and just repeated it so, soRRY ABOUT THAT LMAO)

ps: divider by cafekitsune from here

The realm is a vast, infinite sea of shadow and darkness, where light dares not intrude, and the boundaries between reality and nightmare blur into a seamless haze.

The air is thick and heavy, oppressive and unnerving, and the ground—if it can be called that—has a mind of its own. A shifting, formless mass, it is sometimes solid, other times intangible, with shadowy tendrils that coil and twist around souls who have wandered too far into the darkness.

It feeds on curiosity, which quickly turns to fear and screams—swallowing these poor souls and losing them to the void.

In this realm, time and space lose all meaning; with no daylight, days, years, and lifetimes dissolve into the inky black.

Yet, a solitary figure appears in the boundless expanse of the abyss.

An immortal wanderer, whose presence is a stark contrast to the surrounding gloom, steps into the realm of the God of Darkness. The heels she wears clank against the shifting ground, echoing into the void like raindrops against marble, a sound so out of place yet entirely fitting in the silence that reigns.

A cascade of pure white adorned with crystals drags along the floor, white gems shaped like moons and stars shimmering faintly on her dress, casting a glow around her. Her skin, as pale as freshly fallen snow, absorbs the darkness and reflects it back gently, with only her black hair blending seamlessly into the void.

It is as if she were a fragment of the cosmos themselves.

The sentient shadows and the realm itself stir at her presence, ever-watchful and wary.

Yet, they recognize something in this immortal that is different from the countless souls they have consumed—an understanding. But they also sense the heavy weight she carries, a deep melancholy and sadness that mingled with her soul, the unshed tears of a thousand sorrows buried deep within her soul, clinging onto it stubbornly.

Yet her heart, though broken and faint, still beats with unforgotten kindness.

They welcome her, parting the land and flowing around her ankles like streams of water, uncharacteristically gentle, curious, and almost reverent.

The realm’s chilling cold, which would freeze the marrow of any mortal, is a comfort to Eira. Here in the dark and cold, she feels at peace, as if the land of darkness is more familiar to her than the world she left behind.

Nothing is truly terrifying or difficult in her eyes; everything, even the unknown and the darkness, simply needs to be understood.

And understand it, she does.

She moves slowly, not aimlessly, but with purpose, until her hand is outstretched into the perpetual darkness.

The shadows thicken around her as a cold wind brushes past her right shoulder, something circling her slowly—predatory yet intimate, moving through her fabric and hair, blotches of black staining the whites temporarily before dissolving away, as if to not stain her.

Then comes the sensation of a cloak—heavy, misty—gliding over her left shoulder.

A faintly shaped form reaches out and clasps her outstretched hand. The touch is cold, yet familiar. In the darkness, a faint shape of a skull with a swirl of black smoke becomes visible, a pair of eyes burning with an otherworldly light, ashes and flickers of white making their presence known.

The void around her rumbles.

"Ghost," she greets kindly, her voice gentle and warm, seeping into the darkness.

A deep, resonant reply comes.

"Eira."

extra notes:

Idk what Eira is yet, she's not a Goddess, I do have some idea where she was once human and was bestowed the gift of immortality (against her will? maybe) and thread along these planes of existence, wandering around slowly

this AU is just a concept, it doesn't strictly follow any mythology like Greek or Norse (frankly idk much about them besides Zeus LOL)

BUT, Ghost is a direct reference to Erebus or Erebos, which is a deity that embodies the darkness

if im not mistaken he's paired with Nyx, which is a goddess of night, but again- I changed the story here and Eira's not a goddess

But I did make her have some kind of linkage to stars and moons, because I uh I like the representations LOL

the line that spoke about her sadness can be from a multitude the reason, whether it's from her solitude or the way she has been alive for too long with no purposes, she longed for something she couldn't quite articulate or pinpoint, it's an aimless, lifeless life she's living in. Separated from mortals she once loved, she feels out of place, it's like she's a ghost that travels these places

...I was half debating if i wanna write her heart was broken because she was with Price as a mortal, and then because of the immortality thing she lost Price forever

but thEN, I was thinking...what if this GhostRaven thing becomes a GhostPriceRaven thing....EH??? but yeah i haven't taught that far yet

the premise is that Ghost, who's a god that rarely made his presence known, is curious about Eira, who dares to talk to him and even be in his realm

the story will end in layers of angst KJSDHGLK because see Id like to imagine a deity associated with darkness is a delicate subject, it is a balance between light and darkness, life and death and the known and unknown

so surely, by exploring and letting an immortal linger too long in his realm- or in his heart, would have some effect (rubs hands together menacingly)

but idk the idea of Ghost finding a pretty lil star is what im chasing LOL

Raven who's curious and also interested in this...enigma...this God that so many are fearful of...

idk if i will develop this au beyond just this snippet, because it's just a fun lil idea for me, we'll see how it goes

bonus of me struggling:

#me see light and dark me go ya that mah oc [neuron activated]#its too early #IDK ideas usually comes to me at like #either midnight or early morning #and i just yap away #and then it dies off at noon so yeahksljfhgafjh #my oc #cod oc #[oc]Raven #GhostRaven #potentially GhostPriceRaven #Simon Ghost Riley x oc #ethereal au

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maruzzewrites · 11 months

Text

Every breath you take. - 12

One could think and think, about all the possibilities and all the probabilities, but there would always be one little voice in the back of your head whispering how you weren’t ready enough, how they could reach and take you so easily if they just willed it.

Any plan, any idea, too simple, too complex. Required too much money. And how would you explain to your parents what was happening? Could you trust yourself to be saved by the police, by a magistrate perhaps? But the cold hands of doubt choked you like a snake, waiting for its prey to fall for the honey trap. You were suspended in a limbo of uncertain happenings: your only solace from this malady was now buried deep into the ground, your family couldn’t help you better than he did, and those deranged men still on your tail. Waiting in the darkness ready to jump on your weakened body.

You spent an ungodly amount of time pacing your room, a prison that was closing up on you with every passing second, the walls claustrophobic and thin and breakable. Everything around you felt so unsafe and open to attack, so delicate that one single push into the tender flesh of your house could make it crumble, expose you to any danger.

You felt sick most of the time you spent alone in your room, thought after thought crowding your mind until there was no room for anything but that annihilating dread that made up your life in the last months. You weren’t even sure you were a person anymore, at times all you had were these thoughts of complete, terrible and invincible anxiety that drowned you.

The last visit to that house was weeks ago. It was easy enough to convince the men who gave you the job that you didn’t want to work for them anymore, but their protests were haunting. Demands, threats, and everything in between that made your contact almost beg you to work for them still, but eventually you were informed that you were dismissed. You had no idea why they were so moody over your staying, but the person who informed you revealed, in a concealed way, that it was a form of punishment towards your persecutors.

You didn’t dare to dig deeper.

You were simply grateful not to have an entire crime syndicate running after you, even if you were hunted down by some of the most terrifying men you had ever had the displeasure to hear about.

Your mother, at first, wondered why you left your job. She prodded, asked, inquired in all the ways and all the moments she could find you alone, but she soon enough noticed the way you stopped eating and enjoying your day, how every waking second of your life was dripping of cold sweat and the stench of fear seeped in the cracks of your walls.

Even you, when you looked at yourself in the mirror one day, couldn’t recognize your reflection; skin dead and your face gaunt, your eyes heavy with tears and sleepless nights passed in the darkness, with your shoulders against the wall as if it could save you from a mortal blow.

Your father, who worried in the moment he noticed something was wrong, encouraged you to take a walk with him, to go to work with him just to breathe fresh air into those worn lungs of yours. You attempted this, once, but the weight of the sun on your skin and the touch of the wind lit up every nerve, every jolt of electricity in your brain gave you the signal that you were not safe, not there, not outside.

You needed to be covered by those four walls, in your room that was becoming too tiny and too suffocating, but at least it was home. At least you could pretend there was a place in this city that could protect you as if it was the warm, cozy embrace of your parents when you were still a child.

But that day, that cursed day you accepted to spend with your father while everything was oppressing you, when the very act of breathing was becoming too much, you discovered something that would make you want to abandon everything else and run away. Run until your feet bleed and your legs gave out, under the weight of your weariness.

Your father, working as usual, throwing some glances towards you now and again, received a visit from some young teenager. He looked like the type to look for trouble, and managed to find it easily, but even he was intimidated when he gave your father a letter.

Your father, at that moment, looked aged and tired like you have never seen him. Not even after the longest days, not even after work, but he looked like a man you had never seen before. You saw the image of death when you looked over and tried to understand why that reaction created such a heavy sensation in your chest. Breathing was almost the most unnatural thing to do for you at that moment.

Your father tried to shield the letter from your eyes, but you caught a glance of a threat written black on white. The air, around you, became cold and still like you were suddenly encapsulated into ice and were looking at the world as if it was on the other side, moving in confusing motions of color rather than people actually living it.

And you were not living it either.

You were suspended again, into that sea of uncertainty and dread, and you were drowning. You were drinking in the dark water, and it was like tar scratching down your throat, down your lungs and your stomach, dragging you down into the dark, cold ocean more and more.

Your father was being threatened and you needed to know more, you needed to make sure. If they reached your fiancé, who would stop them from harming your parents? Your friends? Even the simple man talking to you, one day, to ask for the right house down the road. Was anyone safe around you, and were you safe around them? Once again you were sent down a spiral of self-doubt and fear that those men created, those persecutors who poisoned the well so deeply and completely you had no idea how to purify the water again. You felt like you were just destined to sip this poisonous mud for as long as you lived, for as long as you were allowed to live by these men who made you live in terror.

You had to know who was threatening your father. You had to understand what was happening, if you had to go to someone higher, if this thing was becoming too big and too dangerous for all of those in your life. They killed your fiancè, and you didn’t care to look for more concrete proof, you didn’t care if it was just a taunt or simply a way to make the frigid tendrils of fear sneak inside your body, they were the murderers. And if they were, that meant they had restraint until now and you were in more dire danger than ever.

It was almost like a slap that made everything clear when you wanted to keep your vision blurry. That realization after the mourning, the pain, the suffering that they caused you; with every step they were getting closer, and you were staying still like a good, perfect doll waiting for its owners to take control again. And again, in that shop where your father was being threatened, where he was suffering because of you, you started to feel the thoughts in your mind overlap and accumulate from the back of your head to the front, pressing hard against the skull until you felt like you were truly falling into insanity.

There was nothing else but fear, fear, fear, fear. Chanting in your mind the same words over and over again, you were paralyzed by the notion that anyone could die at any moment in front of you, and you could simply disappear from their lives because those men willed it into reality. Because they simply wanted to.

Because they want you.

And the guilt, swelling and pulsating inside your chest; because of you, it was all your fault from the beginning wasn’t it? You were the cause of your own problems, if only you didn’t overstep the boundary they simply wouldn’t have cared and you’d simply be the person coming once or twice a week to clean their house.

And the cycle began where you accused yourself of being the cause of every evil in your life, and then reasoning in your head that it couldn’t be true, they were in the wrong. Who in their right mind could even believe to torment someone to the point of madness and murder, simply for a warm meal on their table? Only someone with no morality left in them could even start to do something like that.

You spent the rest of the day, in that shop, fighting with your own mind to reclaim some sort of sanity. Shooing away thoughts that made you want to puke and scream, that made you pace in the back as your father looked over in complete confusion and with concern coloring his features. What a life you had now; just thinking that there was a time when you could open the door of your room and go out in public without this oppression crushing down on your ribs, on your heart and compressing the air out of your chest.

You wished you could go back to a moment when you felt like your normal self, and not this person devoid of anything different than dreadful terror. Or perhaps, you wished to go in a moment of time in the future when all of this was merely the worst of your memories and you were serene, even happy.

But you lived in the present, in the middle of this terrible affliction and every moment you were living it was squeezing more strength out of you that could hope to recuperate in any way.

You returned home in silence that evening, with your father never leaving your side out of genuine worry for your wellbeing. Your eyes were unfocused on anything, as you mind grasped at every terrifying idea that it could create, clinging for dear life to the horrors that you imagined would happen if those men decided to go for the hunt again soon.

They were not happy, that much was obvious. Maybe they were satisfied for now, with your fiancé out of the way and the spiral you were sent in. Harmless and ready to be picked whenever they wished, you imagined, in their demented heads.

You probably looked terrible, as you walked the few streets that separated you from your father’s workplace. It was relatively near your house, which was something you were grateful for right now, when you couldn’t bear to stay outside even for a second more than necessary. It was just a few steps away, your fake safety that would give you those handful of seconds in complete bliss before the reality of your situation settled down again.

Like every other day during those weeks, you didn’t eat much at all. You dragged yourself into your room where you curled up on your bed, shaking and trembling as your entire body was engulfed in that darkness of thoughts that were more like companions than true enemies at that point. You hated them, desired them to be gone and leave you alone, but they were there like clockwork, ready to embrace you when you were alone.

You fell asleep in complete silence, with your mother’s breath coming from the other side of the door as she worried herself sick. She didn’t enter your room, not now, not anymore, as you had lost your nerves at her more than once in these weeks and she didn’t know how to help. But you could feel her presence in the shadows, and you didn’t even know if you were comforted by it anymore.

It was just another reminder, and that was why you were grateful to be pushed into a dreamless sleep that night.

That was until you heard an explosion coming from the distance.

You woke up instantly.

#yandere jjba #jojo's bizzarre adventures #la squadra esecuzione #yandere x reader #reader insert

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