#sara (obey me!)

[the-guardian-kitsune]

✧ — morning comfort.

as you sleep, they think you're truly adorable, and that they're lucky they're the object of your affection.

cw / tw : none, just pure fluff. ♡

a / n : spur-of-the-moment piece, wrote it like rn.

imagine a lazy, comforting morning beside your beloved. the sun is just starting to rise up in between the soft clouds when you, begrudgingly, begin to wake up. your partner, on the other hand, has been awake for a while, staring at your sleeping form, at your squished cheeks against their chest, your arms wrapped around their upper body as one of your legs is thrown over theirs. you mumble something, still more asleep rather than awake, probably about it being too early to open your eyes. your beloved chuckles, thinking you're adorable as you sink your face even deeper in them, hiding from the sunlight, desperate for some more sleep. the warmth of their body, seeping through their nightwear, lulls you back into morpheus' arms, as the fresh smell of their skin has you daydreaming of boundless meadows. soon you're asleep again, soft breaths falling from your parted lips, your head moving slightly because of your lover's chest going up and down while breathing. and you don't know it, but they're still looking at you, an arm around your shoulders, fingertips drawing figures on your soft skin. they look at you and think you're the most beautiful person to ever exist, warm and soft and cute, lovely and kind and funny, nice and understanding and just so full of love for those who are dear to you. they feel lucky they're one of those who you love, thinking that after the so many hardships life put them through, your presence by their side is the best reward. and seeing you sleeping so peacefully beside them, without a single worry in the world, has them think that, after all, they too deserve this gentle caress from life called love.

@ the-guardian-kitsune do not copy repost translate or feed to ai

[radarchives]

[glambeary]

you can only be hot if you're a crow

[girlinthetardis04]

Obey Me! Dark Paradise

"Dark Paradise" is the name of the specific timeline my OM! MC, Sara Morgenstern, lives in. It is a bit of a departure from original canon, most notably, Lilith is still alive as an angel and is wholly unrelated to Sara.

These are other facts about Dark Paradise, organized in whatever chaotic order they spawn into my mindspace in.

Also big shout-out to @littlemelodiouslamb, who is the very first person to have known all this :3

(note: I will make an updated list of my OCs soon, but in the meantime check here)

LORE

Belphie is not in the attic in this AU.

Here the Celestial War started for different reasons, so Lilith is still alive, so Belphegor doesn't hate humans (much)

But there is still angst. For example the fact that Lilith feels left out of her family because she remained an angel and thinks her brothers don't love her anymore :)

God in this timeline has the same vibes as the Good Omens God. At one point, Sara meets Him in a dream, and he's a writer surrounded by a bazillion sheets, and on each one there is written the full life of each creature on Earth.

"Falling" is not decided by anyone. It happens automatically once an angel has become too sinful? Evil? I haven't worked out the kinks yet. But the point is that certain actions cause the holiness of an angel decay. Which is why Lilith is still an angel, as much as she wants to be with her brothers she doesn't meet the "requirements" to Fall.

Angels cannot feel romantic or sexual love, they love everything without any particular distinction in the type of love. (So the whole drama with Lilith and later with Simeon doesn't happen).

The Celestial War started because Lucifer didn't want humans to exist, since God was paying too much attention to them. (inspired by the Bible and Paradise Lost)(also more angst for Lilith since she's torn between her admiration for her older brother and her love of humanity)

Both angels and demons don't have a gender, they simply choose whether to appear more masculine or feminine in their human forms, but with no real affinity for that specific gender. In fact, they're not..."anatomically correct". Angels always have Barbie doll anatomy, and demons have  to make a conscious effort to have the... proper parts.

Lilith tries her best to bond with Satan. Specifically, since she likes to paint, sometimes Satan will read her a passage from a book and she'll draw the scene.

Another crumb of angst: Lilith thinks that her brothers wouldn't want to associate with an angel anymore, while he brothers believe that she's horrified by the kind of demons they've become, so they both keep their distance from the other, which reinforces those beliefs, and it's a vicious cycle, so on so forth. (They make up eventually dw)

Just like there are Avatars of the Seven Sins, there are Avatars of the Seven Virtues. The brothers (sans Satan) were the previous Avatars of Virtue.

When the exchange program was created, a meeting was held where each world was represented. The representatives for the Human World were Adam and Eve.

Eve is a bit airheaded and trusts people way too easily, while Adam is a more serious and makes sure Ever doesn't end up in trouble (again. Once was enough). Eve is very enthusiastic about meeting her descendants; Adam less so, but mostly because he has to see Lucifer again.

Because Lilith is still an angel, if the boys are bothering her too much, she can just slap them upside the head to make them stop, since holy burns demons. She can technically "turn it off", but she will leave it on if she's mad at them so they can't touch her.

SARA

Sara cannot form pacts, or she'll die. At the beginning she didn't know this, and avoided forming pacts simply because it seemed sketchy to her. Later the brothers mentioned that her soul isn't fully "tethered" to her body, so she went to ask for clarification to the angels/Solomon who explained that too much spiritual exertion could ☠️. Thirteen also confirmed it later.

Sara wholeheartedly thinks the brothers don't love her for basically the first semester. None of them realized until she was under a truth spell (because hijinks) and offhandedly mentioned what a nice gesture it is that they pretend to care about her (of course they actually do care, that's their little human ray of sunshine, she just can't see it)

Sara's mom basically accidentally adopted Mammon and the other six younger siblings. She pretty much ends up becoming co-parents with Lucifer for the younger ones and Sara.

And clearly, there's a moment where the other brothers call Sara's mom "mom" and cringe themselves to kingdom come. (and Sara has accidentally called Lucifer "dad")

They mostly call her "mom" out of osmosis, since they consider Sara part of their family, her mom is also part of their family, but because they were simply created out of nowhere they don't really feel the lack of a maternal figure. But you know who does, and who immediately calls her "mom"? Diavolo. Luke also calls her mom because he's tiny and cute like that.

Sara's nicknames for the Sinblings are:

Lucifer - Luc (pronunced "Luz")

Mammon - Mo

Leviathan - Levs

Satan - Tan

Asmodeus - Azzy

Beelzebub - Bee (babe or lovebug when they date)

Belphegor - Bel

Lilith - Lily

She wears fake vampire fangs so in the Human World people leave her alone and in the Devildom she fits in more :3

Sara tends to stumble a lot, so the non-human characters have come to the conclusion that humans have bad balance due to their lack of wings/tail.

Henry 1.0 is Sara's pet. She has a ring she can use to summon him like Levi does with Lotan. Although, actually, the ring is Henry 1.0 himself shrunk down, and can simply go back to being big and snakey when needed.

She also has a pocket knife made from one of Raphael's spears (he gave it to her as a gift)

AURIEL

Auriel tries to imitate what Asmodeus was like as the Avatar of Chastity.

Typically masculine, decided to present as feminine for the exchange program for funsies.

Was born during the War, and had one of her four wings ripped off.

Her older brother is Azriel, Avatar of Patience and the Angel of Death. He resembles Lucifer, black hair and piercing golden eyes. He dresses more like a demon, and tends to come off as intimidating (I love the grumpy & sunshine dynamic)

EDEN

After discovering that she wasn't being treated well by the witches, Sara had the brilliant idea that hey, they should go and bring her here! And obviously Mammon immediately agreed because they have minus one braincell between them.

Thing is, Eden doesn't know that Mammon is a demon, she thinks he's just a human that can use magic, so for a few days she's just stuck in Mammon's room while they figure out how to break the news to her, and also because Lucifer doesn't know they brought her there.

Lucifer does eventually agree to let them keep Eden there, however she's obviously scared out of her mind by everyone and everything (aside from Mammon), so she's basically glued to his side for the first couple months. She'll start crying if they look at her twice, baby is frighten.

VIRGIL

Virgil, unlike Regan, is a fallen angel.

His Sloth is less "voluntary" than Belphegor's; he would like to do more things and be more enthusiastic, but he simply has no energy, and he hates that :)

He's in the Navy.

Has a Human World Appreciation Club at RAD along with Regan.

Him and Regan are housemates.

REGAN

Famous Devildom idol.

Has a Human World Appreciation Club at RAD along with Virgil.

Her demon form is based on a rosy maple moth.

Her and Virgil are housemates.

ENVY

Comes from a large family, and often felt neglected.

Met Levi at a Human World convention Sara dragged him to (she was cosplaying as Chocola from Sugar Sugar Rune).

Offered to become Eden's legal guardian since she still needs someone on paper for Human World documents and stuff.

MELANIE

Whoop whoop, new OC alert! (thank you @littlemelodiouslamb for convincing me to pull her out of the recycling bin)

Human World idol, and fifth human exchange student.

Has a (mutual) crush on Diavolo. They're just both awkward beans and have no idea how to actually confess.

Her stage name is M-Lock, which is both a play on "hemlock", and her full name, Melanie Locke.

Barring Solomon, she's the oldest human in the exchange program at 22yo.

[bbaycon]

Is that Kujou cifer … yes

[strmcall]

forever pissed off they made a youkai quest WITHOUT putting sara in it like what the actual hello

[harmlesscigarette]

...confession comes first, but so do I when your head is between my thighs...

"Obeyed," Sara Tantlinger

[friendlylifecherry]

The Ballad of Sata Berry is such an Asmodeus song. Like listen to this:

Tell it doesn't sound like Asmo getting way too obsessed with the prom king title and killing anyone who he sees as a threat to "his" crown

[moonselune]

By the Silk that Binds Us (pt. 11)

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Matron!Minthara x Forced!Betrothed!reader

CW: murder, gore, torture, angst, mental health problems

An arranged marriage, enemies to lovers fic: part one part two part three part four part five part six part seven part eight part nine part ten part twelve

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It’s a typically busy morning as you move through the halls of your grand estate, keeping the household running smoothly. Servants rush by, carrying out tasks with quiet efficiency, but your sharp eye catches any lapses. You spend time reprimanding a few who slack, making mental notes of those who require further attention, and oversee the youngest girls of the house as they practice their chores and lessons.

The Mistress' Guard trails after you, as they always do now, their presence constant, though you hardly notice them anymore. Verona and her sect have become almost an extension of you, their vigilance unwavering.

In the middle of managing your duties, a tutor rushes up to you, his face flushed with frustration.

“Mistress,” he says breathlessly, bowing before continuing. “I must speak with you about Kyorlin. He removed the triplets from their lessons without permission. If he wishes to do so, he must follow the proper channels.”

You pause, a twist of unease settling in your gut. Kyorlin has always had an unorthodox way of doing things, but this… this is different. He never spent time with the children unless he absolutely had to, so him to seek them out, to disrupt them from their learning. You knew it just couldn't be good.

"Did he say why he was taking the triplets?” you ask, eyes narrowing at the tutor.

The tutor rubs his neck anxiously. “I… I don’t know, Mistress. I couldn’t ask him, not with a blade pointed at me - at my neck! He didn’t offer any explanation and just too them!”

You sigh, frustration creeping into your voice, of course, Kyorlin's reaction was violence when he didn't get his way.. “Very well. I’ll handle it.”

With a wave of your hand, you dismiss the tutor and make your way through the estate, your mind churning. Kyorlin had always been detached, rebellious even, but threatening a tutor and removing Lesaonar’s children from their lessons without permission? Something is off.

It doesn’t take long to find them. Gossip in House Baenre travels faster than a lightning strike, and word of Kyorlin’s whereabouts reaches your ears within minutes. The garden. Of course. It’s always the gardens with this place.

The garden was peaceful, a contrast to the simmering tension that always seemed to linger beneath the surface of the grand house. You were drawn there by the familiar sound of Kyorlin’s voice, low and deliberate, speaking to the triplets. Their young, inquisitive voices piped up now and then, filled with curiosity, unaware of the storm that was brewing beneath their innocent questions.

You crept closer, keeping to the shadows of the tall, twisting trees until their words became clear.

“These flowers,” Kyorlin said, pointing at a cluster of delicate, glowing blossoms, “I planted each one for a member of the Liakyre family. They were strong, proud, and—”

“What happened to them, Uncle Kyorlin?” Sarae asked, interrupting him. Her wide, innocent eyes blinked up at him, curiosity shining bright. “Papa never talks about them.”

Kyorlin’s voice grew quieter, more somber. “That’s because your papa is scared, little one. He doesn’t talk about them because—”

You knew where this was headed. The chill in the air felt sharper now as realization hit you like a blade. He was going to tell them. The whole truth.

Without hesitation, you stepped out from the shadows, your voice like steel as you commanded, “Triplets, return to your lessons. Now.”

The three children flinched at your sudden appearance, but they obeyed without a second thought, casting glances back at Kyorlin before scampering off towards the house.

The garden fell silent as you rounded on Kyorlin, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him away from the prying eyes of the servants and guards, your voice a low hiss. “What exactly were you doing, Kyorlin? What were you thinking?”

Kyorlin’s usual calm demeanor faltered, but his defiance remained. “They deserve to know who their family was. The Liakyres—our family—they were more than just—”

“The Liakyre family is dead,” you snapped, cutting him off sharply. “Minthara saw to that. There is no sense in dragging the triplets into a past that is six feet under.”

"Just because you have chosen to forget them, doesn't mean the world must." Kyorlin’s eyes flashed with frustration. “Conveniently, I might add. But the triplets—they don’t have to forget them.”

You could feel the rage building inside you, seething under the surface. You pulled him closer, your words venomous. “Do not pretend you know why I have made my choices, Kyorlin. You were not the one standing at the altar while Minthara carved the Liakyre insignia off my wrist. You were not Lesaonar when Melinoe carved it from his skin.That wasn’t out of convenience. That was survival.”

Kyorlin scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “You act like this is some grand sacrifice, like we all had no choice.”

“You think this is about choice?” you whispered harshly, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “Do you have any idea what Minthara would do if she found out you were filling their heads with loyalty to a dead house? She would have your head on a spike before dawn. The Liakyre family is gone, Kyorlin, and if you’re too stubborn to accept that, then you’re forcing my hand.”

He stared at you, his lips pressed into a thin line, not conceding but knowing he couldn’t win this fight.

You took a step back, your voice softening, though the threat still lingered. “If you keep this up, I’ll have you marry into House Baenre. Man or woman, it won’t matter. I’ll strip you of your last name, for your own good.”

"You would never-"

"-Do not test me, Kyorlin." You snap at him, pointed finger into his armoured chest. "To keep you safe, to protect you, I would do anything, even if it is saving you from your own foolishness."

At that, Kyorlin’s defiance seemed to crumble, though his eyes still held a flicker of resentment. He gave a slight nod, conceding. “Fine. No more talk of the Liakyres.”

You let out a breath, feeling the weight of the situation begin to ease.

“Good. Because I won’t tell Minthara—for your sake.” You forced a smirk, trying to lighten the mood just a fraction. “As much as you seem determined to keep the Liakyre name alive, you’re just as determined to get yourself killed. The only Liakyre left, and you want to throw it all away.”

He didn’t smile at your attempt at humor, only offered a hollow chuckle, before turning to walk away. You watched him go, relief washing over you. You thought you’d avoided disaster.

Little did you know, hidden behind the towering trees and shrubs of the garden, Verona stood with two of her guards, silently observing. Her expression was unreadable, her sharp eyes taking in every word exchanged between you and Kyorlin. As you turned to leave, oblivious to her presence, she gestured to her second-in-command, her voice cold and precise.

“Go inform the Matron,” she ordered quietly. “Tell her everything.”

The guard nodded and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Verona behind, her gaze still lingering where you and Kyorlin had stood. A small, knowing smile crept onto her lips. It gave her no joy to get you in trouble, but a chance to get the discourteous Kyorlin, the ever-privileged and protected one, constantly saved by his sister's refuge, punished - that was just too delicious to give up.

Unbeknownst to you, the wheels of betrayal were already turning, and this secret would not remain hidden for long.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

That evening, you were running late to dinner. After the incident with Kyorlin and the triplets earlier, your mind had been a whirlwind of thoughts, and it had taken longer than expected to settle everything in the household. As you approached the dining room, the smell of dinner greeted you, calming your nerves slightly. You entered the room and found Minthara and Lythaera already seated, the little one giggling as she played with her food.

“Apologies, I’m late,” you said, quickly stepping in to give Minthara a soft kiss on the lips, and then immediately turning your attention to your daughter. You knelt down beside Lythaera’s chair, cooing at her, fixing her hair, and making her laugh with playful touches.

You were so focused on her that you didn’t notice the way Minthara’s gaze lingered on you, a predatory glint in her eyes as she watched your every move. There was a tension beneath her composed exterior, though she hid it well. She knew about Kyorlin’s little indiscretion earlier in the day, but she wasn’t going to reveal that just yet. Not tonight.

You finally took your seat at the table, still smiling as you wiped a bit of sauce off Lythaera’s cheek.

“Thank you, Minthara,” you said, tucking into the food that had been laid out. The variety was impressive, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how Minthara had managed to source all the strange foods you’d been craving during your pregnancy. “You’ve truly outdone yourself. I’m not sure where you found some of these ingredients, but I appreciate it.”

Minthara chuckled softly, her eyes gleaming as she watched you eat.

“Nothing is too difficult to find when it comes to the wellbeing of my wife,” she said smoothly, though her tone held something deeper, something unspoken. You glanced up at her, the warmth in her voice and words making you smile.

“How was your day?” you asked, hoping to ease into casual conversation.

Minthara answered, speaking of her day briefly, though you could tell by the way her eyes never left you that she was far more interested in your day. Her gaze was like a predator’s—sharp, waiting, and patient. You tried to ignore it, focusing on your meal and avoiding any mention of Kyorlin. The last thing you wanted was to burden Minthara with the issue when you’d already handled it.

“It was busy,” you began, carefully choosing your words. “Overseeing the girls, handling a few matters with the household staff.” You purposefully skipped over the incident in the garden, thinking you’d done well to gloss over it. “But everything went smoothly.”

Minthara’s smile widened ever so slightly, and she set down her glass of wine before standing up. With slow, deliberate steps, she made her way around the table toward you. Your heart fluttered as she stopped behind you, her hands gently resting on your shoulders.

“You’ve done so much today, my love,” she whispered softly into your ear, her voice a low purr. “You work so hard, always so diligent.”

You blushed under her praise, feeling her warmth so close.

“Minthara…” you mumbled, flustered by the sudden affection. She always knew how to disarm you, and even now, you could feel your cheeks redden as she leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your cheek.

“I love you,” she murmured against your skin. “I adore you.” Her lips brushed over your neck as she spoke, sending a shiver down your spine. You felt yourself melting under her touch, the tension of the day easing in her embrace.

You turned your head slightly to look up at her, your eyes soft as you took in her expression.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, a smile forming on your lips.

Minthara’s smile remained, but there was something else in her eyes now—something sharper, darker. She tilted your chin up slightly, her thumb brushing over your lips as she spoke softly. “And that’s why,” she said, her voice as smooth as silk, “it upsets me so when you lie to me.”

Her words hit you like a blade. The smile on your face faltered, and the warmth in your chest quickly turned cold. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what she was implying, and suddenly, it felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room.

Minthara’s fingers trailed down your neck, still so gentle, but now it felt different. There was a weight to her touch, a threat laced within her tenderness. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure, but your mind was racing. She knew.

“I—” you started to speak, but the words caught in your throat. You had no idea how much she knew, or how she knew, but there was no mistaking the intent in her words. She had been waiting for this, patiently watching, and now she had you exactly where she wanted.

Minthara leaned in closer, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered, “Tell me, my love… what happened today?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying to muster a defense without sounding too defensive.

"It wasn’t anything serious," you said, your voice steady though your pulse quickened. "Kyorlin was just… speaking to the triplets about where they come from. Where I come from. Where Lythaera comes from. It was harmless, Minthara."

Her fingers, which had been tenderly stroking your neck, stilled. A soft scoff escaped her lips, and she pulled back slightly to look at you.

“Harmless?” she echoed, her tone dripping with disdain. “You think I will tolerate fantasies of loyalty to a dead house? A pitiful one at that.”

Your spine stiffened at her words, and you felt the anger simmering in your chest. Pitiful? You turned in your seat, eyes narrowing as you met her gaze.

“Pitiful?” you repeated, your voice low and sharp. “I am descended from Lolth herself, Minthara. My lineage—”

Minthara cut you off with a wave of her hand, her eyes flashing with irritation.

“Lolth supported that marriage contract because she knew your family line would die out in the ditch it deserved.” Her voice was cold, her words like venom. “Lolth used the marriage to elevate her descendants. To elevate you. Lolth is the only reason you’re alive, the only reason your brothers survived as long as they did. Without her, without House Baenre, your family would be nothing.”

You clenched your fists beneath the table, feeling the surge of power in your veins, your magic bubbling beneath the surface. You bristled at her words, each one cutting deeper than the last. How could she say that? How could she reduce everything you were, everything your family had been, to nothing more than pawns in Lolth’s grand game?

“Without House Baenre,” Minthara continued, her voice quieter now but no less severe, “you are nothing.”

Her words rang in your ears, and the power inside you surged uncontrollably. You felt your magic flare, a dangerous hum filling the air around you. Lythaera, who had been sitting quietly at the table, suddenly began to cry, her small voice trembling as the tension in the room thickened.

You stood abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor as you turned away from the table, away from Minthara’s piercing gaze. You needed to get out before you lost control. You feared that even a word slipping from your tongue could cause damnation.

Minthara went to Lythaera and you took the opportunity to leave. You stormed out of the dining room, your magic crackling in the air around you as you made your way toward the gardens.

The cool night air hit your skin as you stepped outside, your hand instinctively moving to rest on your pregnant belly. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the roiling anger inside you. But the memory of Minthara’s words kept replaying in your mind—her dismissal of your family, her cold indifference to your pain. Like you were nothing more than a tool, a pawn in a game that you hadn’t even chosen to play.

The moonlight barely touched the neglected courtyard as you made your way through the forgotten section of the vast Baenre estate, the soft crunch of dirt underfoot your only companion in the darkness. This was a place few ventured—its stone walls crumbling from disuse, vines creeping across the abandoned benches and cracked fountains, forgotten by nearly everyone. Nearly.

You had chosen this place precisely for its solitude, a moment’s respite away from the watchful eyes of the household. But tonight, even here, the presence of the Mistress’s Guard was unmistakable.

You paused, sensing them nearby, the shadows shifting unnaturally. With a scowl, you turned and shouted into the darkness, your voice sharp and commanding, “Stay back! Unless you want me to turn you into something with eight legs instead of two.”

There was a rustle, followed by the unmistakable sound of feet retreating. Good. You needed the quiet.

However, as you entered the courtyard, you were surprised to see that you were not alone. Lesaonar sat on one of the worn stone benches, clutching a bottle of vintage wine. His white hair gleamed faintly in the low light as he glanced up at you, smirking.

“Well, well, look who decided to haunt the courtyard tonight,” he teased, lifting the bottle in a mock toast. “I was here first, so it would be dreadfully unfair to turn me into a drider, don’t you think?”

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Fine,” you replied, walking over to sit beside him. “I’ll spare you this time.”

Lesaonar grinned and took another swig of wine before offering it to you. But then, his eyes flicked to your stomach, remembering. “Oh, right. No wine for you. How could I forget? You’re growing the next Baenre noble in there, after all.”

You smiled faintly, a hand absentmindedly resting on your stomach. “Yes, I'm doing my duty for House Baenre, my life purpose apparently.”

Lesaonar’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Well, Melinoe called me a peasant tonight. Told me I was as common as a spider and not even as pretty. She just went too far with that one.."

Lesaonar took another swig of his bottle, his eyes hazy with unshed tears and you raised a brow at him, "Because she called you common?"

"Because she said I wasn't pretty!" Lesaonar protested, and you couldn't help but smile at him. "And I know for a fact that I am very pretty. Honestly, you defend your twin for some light heresy and you get torn apart." He chuckled but then sighed, shaking his head. “Next thing I know, I’m kicked out of our quarters and exiled to the courtyard with only this fine bottle for company -and now the esteemed Mistress of the house!”

Lesaoanar did a mock bow before bringing the bottle back up to his lips and taking a long swig. You eyed him, out of you thought was caution but was most likely envy, what you wouldn't do to be able to have a drink right now.

"I had to leave, our arguing was upsetting Lythaera." You said softly, leaning back against the bench. “Though if I weren’t Minthara’s broodmare, I’d probably be facing the same fate, exiled from the quarters.”

Lesaonar shot you a sharp look, the humor in his eyes darkening.

“Don’t you dare think of yourself like that,” he scolded gently. “You’re so much more than that.”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “Am I? Sometimes, I wonder. Lolth’s chosen, Minthara’s wife, Lythaera’s mother—everything I am is tied to someone else. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

Lesaonar scoffed, as if the idea were utterly ridiculous. He turned to you, his face softened but firm.

“You don’t know who you are?” he repeated incredulously. “You’re the one who healed mine and Kyorlin's wounds when our sisters tormented me, who stood up to our dear mother matron when no one else would. You survived the wilds of the Underdark, and now you command the entire household of House Baenre. You. You’re so much more than the titles others have placed on you.”

His voice grew quieter, more sincere. “You are the best thing that’s happened in this wretched world.”

You looked at him, surprised by the conviction in his voice. For a moment, the weight of the expectations on your shoulders seemed to lessen, if only slightly. Lesaonar, for all his teasing and charm, saw you as something more than just a vessel for power or status. He saw you.

Silence settled between you both, but it was a comfortable silence, filled with the quiet hum of distant wind through the vines and the faint rustle of leaves. You glanced up at the dark sky, the familiar unease of the day's events still gnawing at you, but for this moment, sitting with Lesaonar, it felt a little less overwhelming.

“You always know what to say,” you murmured softly, grateful for his presence. He chuckled, stretching out his legs and leaning back, his voice light and teasing again.

“It’s a gift. One that I hope will earn me a place back in our chambers.” He gave you a sidelong glance. “Though, knowing Melinoe, I’m going to have to grovel for a while.”

You smiled despite yourself, the image of Melinoe and Lesaonar’s bickering always a source of amusement. The two of them were like fire and ice—constantly at odds, yet inseparable.

Lesaonar got to his feet, brushing the dust from his dark cloak.

“Well, I suppose I should freshen up before my grovelling begins,” he said with a smirk. “If I’m lucky, I’ll be back in her good graces by the end of the night.”

He paused, glancing down at you. “Though if I see Kyorlin on the way, I might punch him first.”

You raised a brow at that. “And what would that solve?”

Lesaonar shrugged. “Nothing. But it would make me feel better.”

You shook your head, amused. “I’m going to stay here for a bit longer.”

He nodded, a flicker of concern passing over his features before he gave you a reassuring smile. “Take your time. Don’t let her get to you too much, alright?”

You offered a faint smile in return, but your mind was already drifting back to Minthara, her words replaying in your head over and over. Lesaonar gave you a final nod before turning and disappearing into the shadows, his footsteps fading as he made his way back into the main estate.

Now alone, you closed your eyes, letting the quiet envelop you. One hand rested instinctively on your growing belly, your thumb tracing gentle circles over the fabric of your gown. The cool night air kissed your skin, calming the magic that had simmered just beneath the surface all evening. But Minthara’s voice still echoed in your thoughts, her cutting words, the way she had torn you down during dinner.

Her cold indifference, her dismissive attitude toward your pain. She had belittled you in front of your daughter, made you feel small, insignificant, like you were nothing more than a vessel for her ambition. And worst of all, she had done it while you were carrying her child.

The weight of it pressed down on you, crushing your chest, suffocating your breath. And what had you done? You had run. Fled from her, too overwhelmed to even stand up for yourself in that moment. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps you were nothing. Just another pawn in the grand game of drow society, destined to be used and discarded when convenient.

But then, Lesaonar’s words echoed back to you, piercing through the fog of doubt. He had called you strong. He had reminded you of who you were—who you had always been. You were more than just a vessel, more than just Minthara’s broodmare. You had fought for everything you had. You had survived, endured, and thrived in a world designed to break you. But like all sources of light in the Underdark, it was doomed to be consumed by shadow.

Something inside you was unraveling, and the thought of seeing Minthara again, of pretending everything was fine, was too much to bear. You needed space—distance from the suffocating expectations, the lies, the betrayals.

With a soft sigh, you rose to your feet, your decision made. You wouldn’t return to your chambers tonight. Instead, you would walk—into the dark, into the wilds that bordered the estate. You could lose yourself there, even if only for a little while.

You moved quickly, slipping past the gardens and through the outer gates, ignoring the questioning glances of the guards. When they tried to stop you, asking where you were going so late into the night, you didn’t answer. You didn’t have to. You lashed out with your magic, faster than they could react, your hands glowing with a deadly light. The air crackled with power as you killed them without a second thought. The first fell to a bolt of arcane energy that left him smoking where he stood; the second crumpled to the ground with a silent scream, his body convulsing as your magic tore through him.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you watched them die, not because you mourned them, but because of the force of emotions that began to tear through you. But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. The pressure in your chest had become unbearable, and your magic responded to it, lashing out at anything that dared get in your way. With the guards lying dead at your feet, you wiped away your tears, your breath coming in ragged gasps, and pushed forward into the darkness beyond the estate.

The wilds of the Underdark stretched out before you, vast and unforgiving. The bioluminescent glow of strange fungi and the eerie light of the ceiling’s rock formations guided your way as you walked deeper into the unknown. The oppressive silence of the wilds pressed down on you, but you welcomed it, like an old friend. It mirrored the storm raging inside you, the turmoil of emotions that had built up over weeks—months. Maybe years. You couldn't grasp anything at this moment. How were you to know what was to be unleashed after keeping it all together all these years?

Your magic flickered around you like an unstable current, coiling and lashing out unpredictably. Any creature that dared approach was met with a swift and brutal end. Beasts of the Underdark, drawn by your scent or your aura, fell dead before they could even get close enough to strike. You barely registered them. They were inconsequential. Your power responded to your anger, to your pain, with ruthless efficiency.

And yet, strangely, the spiders didn’t shy away from you. They skittered along in the shadows, following your steps, watching you from the safety of their webs. They didn’t attack; they didn’t need to. You were Lolth’s chosen, after all, and they could sense that chaos lived within you tonight. They, too, seemed to revel in it.

You continued walking, tears streaking your face as the existential crisis inside you deepened. What were you? Who were you? You had been molded and shaped by the world of power and cruelty that surrounded you, but now, as you carried Minthara’s child - your child, you felt the weight of every choice, every sacrifice. Could you still claim your own identity? Or had you lost it long ago?

The darkness closed in around you, but it was the familiar dark of the Underdark, not the suffocating darkness of the Baenre household. You welcomed it, even as it felt like it was swallowing you whole.

Your path led you toward a clearing, where the dim light of a large campfire flickered in the distance. The unmistakable sight of a large duergar encampment came into view, the squat, grey-skinned dwarves moving about the camp with a casual arrogance that made your blood boil. You could hear their guttural voices carrying across the quiet, their conversation punctuated with cruel laughter.

As you drew closer, one of the duergar noticed you, his eyes narrowing with recognition.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he sneered, eyeing your figure. His gaze lingered on your belly, his grin widening. “The Baenre matron’s whore, out for a stroll?”

Another duergar, equally as filthy, joined him, his eyes gleaming with malice.

“Looks like she’s carrying a little Baenre bastard too,” he chuckled. “Maybe we can fetch a good price for her. The Matron might pay handsomely to get her pretty little breeding stock back. Or someone else will pay twice as much.”

Rage surged within you, a searing hot fury that obliterated everything else. Before you even realized what you were doing, your magic exploded outward, a violent storm of power that ripped through the camp. There were more of them, many, many more, but that didn't matter. The duergar’s smug grins vanished in an instant as they were thrown to the ground, their bodies writhing in agony as your magic tore into them.

But you didn’t stop there.

No, you didn’t kill them—not right away. Instead, you held back, just enough to keep them alive. You wanted them to feel it. To suffer. You wanted them to beg for death.

Their screams echoed through the camp as you mutilated them, your magic flaying their flesh, breaking their bones, leaving them on the brink of death. They pleaded, their voices hoarse and desperate, but you ignored them. Your eyes burned with unshed tears, your hands trembling as you watched them squirm.

This wasn’t for Lolth. This wasn’t a sacrifice in her name.

This was for you.

For the pain you felt, the rage that had built up inside you. It poured out now in a torrent of violence, leaving the duergar in pieces, barely clinging to life.

You stood over them, your chest heaving with exertion, your tears finally spilling freely down your face. You knew you should have killed them outright, offered them up to Lolth as any proper drow would have. But you didn’t care. Not tonight.

The spiders gathered around you, watching silently as you wiped your face, the chaos you had wrought still buzzing in the air. You could feel Lolth’s presence, distant yet present, observing your actions. She didn’t demand their lives. She seemed content with the chaos you had sown, the way you had let your anger and pain drive you to this point.

And in that twisted moment, you knew that Lolth was pleased with you. Not because you had followed the rules, but because you hadn’t. Because you had embraced the darkness inside you and unleashed it with abandon.

And perhaps, in her eyes, that was the greatest offering you could have given.

You decided to remain in the Duergar encampment, a twisted sanctuary of death and chaos, as the final echoes of a one-sided battle fade into the distance. The moans and groans of the nearly hundred dying Duergar fill the air, each one a testament to your power.

All around you, the spiders that had followed you through the wilds work with eerie precision, spinning webs over the mangled bodies of the fallen, some Duergar being devoured alive, others cocooned for later. The scent of death and blood was thick in the air, but rather than disgust, it brought you a strange sense of calm.

The spiders are tireless, spinning great webs around you, their eight-legged forms dancing in the firelight of the encampment’s ruins. They seem to be building something grand, weaving their silken threads into an intricate design, almost as if they are crafting a home for you here among the corpses. It’s not the home of House Baenre or any noble family, but a twisted throne of death, one born from you for you.

Your hand instinctively moves to your growing belly, a protective gesture as you stand in the heart of the destruction you’ve wrought. The movement of your child within you is a reminder of the life you carry, even in the midst of so much death.

You begin to feel better, more relaxed, as if the tension from the day has finally ebbed away. There’s a strange serenity that settles over you, a peace that comes not from the absence of chaos, but from the acceptance of it.

This is who you are. A drow. A mother. A chosen of Lolth. Powerful.

You sit amid the corpses and webbing, allowing your mind to drift as you survey the carnage around you. The Duergar—ruthless in their own right—now reduced to nothing more than a testament to your strength. In this moment of reflection, you realize that House Baenre didn’t make you this way. They may have taken you in, but they didn’t shape your power. You did.

A dark and twisted thought forms in your mind as you stare at the dying Duergar. You imagine them as the Baenres—each one of them, from Minthara to Melinoe, reduced to this. You could have done this to them. You could do this to them, if you wished.

You see the image so vividly in your mind’s eye: the great Matron Minthara, your wife, cocooned in silk and helpless as the spiders begin to feed. Melinoe’s viciousness reduced to nothing more than a lifeless shell.

The thought stirs a sense of amusement in you, and you allow yourself a small, wicked smile. But then, as quickly as the thought comes, you shake it away. Lythaera is a Baenre. The triplets are Baenres. You and Lesaonar are Baenres now. They are your family, whether born into it or bound by choice.

But the smile lingers on your lips. Let Minthara find you like this. Let her come to the encampment, see the bodies, the spiders, and realize the depths of your power. Let her come to her own conclusions, make her own realizations about just what kind of being she is bound to.

You know Minthara; she is as sharp and cunning as they come. She’ll see this scene for what it is — a testament to your power, your strength.

As the webs continue to build around you, creating a dark, silken sanctuary, you close your eyes for a moment. You are Lolth’s chosen, and this — this chaos, this destruction, this power — is your birthright. You will return to House Baenre, to your family, but for now, you sit in the web you’ve spun, content to let Minthara see the truth for herself when she finds you.

And when she does, you’ll be ready.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The morning light filtered through the elaborate curtains of House Baenre, but Minthara’s mind was shadowed with worry. She paced back and forth in her private chambers, eyes flicking toward the door every few moments. It wasn’t like you to be late rising, especially not when it came to tending to Lythaera. She knew you had a temper and a tendency to need space after intense conversations, but this was different. Something gnawed at her, a deep, uneasy feeling that only grew stronger as the minutes passed.

Her heart thudded with increasing urgency, especially after the report of the dead guards. She turned sharply as one of the house’s senior servants entered the room.

“Where is she?” Minthara demanded, her tone colder than intended. “Why has no one seen her this morning?”

The servant, looking as unsettled as Minthara felt, stammered, “Mistress… she was last seen with Lesaonar.”

A dark glint crossed Minthara’s eyes. “Summon him. Now.”

In mere moments, Lesaonar stood before her in the grand receiving room, his posture composed but his eyes watchful. He bowed his head slightly, more out of formality than submission. His usual casual demeanor was present, though there was an edge of protectiveness in his stance.

“You know where she is,” Minthara said, not bothering with pleasantries. “I want to know now.”

Lesaonar met her gaze without flinching, his lips curving slightly into a sardonic smile.

“I don’t know where my sister is, Matron. Though…” He paused, then continued, his words deliberate. “I do know she was quite upset last night.”

Minthara’s brows drew together. “Upset?”

Lesaonar crossed his arms, still standing at ease. “Well, why wouldn’t she be? Being belittled in front of her own daughter, by her own wife. Reduced to nothing more than a tool. Over some heresy from Kyorlin of all people. It's not like like a Bulette came in and sat down for afternoon tea, every fifth word out of his mouth is a slight."

Minthara’s jaw tightened. She pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a slow, tense breath. “Lesaonar, you are testing not only my patience, but my sanity.”

Lesaonar shrugged, unbothered by the tension in the room. “You asked. And I’m telling you. She was hurt. No one enjoys feeling like they are less than they are, especially not someone like her. I mean, look at all she has done for this house. You have had no real challenges in years, no significant assasinations, all the trade deals you could dream of, and what did you call her again? Nothing was it?”

Minthara’s sharp eyes bore into him, her mind racing. She had felt justified in what she had said to you last night, but hearing it from Lesaonar now, she wondered if perhaps she had gone too far. The memory of your flustered expression flashed in her mind—how you had tried to deflect, to keep peace, even as she pressed. But her words had struck deeper than she realized.

"Where did she go?" Minthara pressed, more softly this time, though her voice still carried the weight of her authority.

Lesaonar raised an eyebrow, clearly aware of how much power he held in this moment. He tilted his head, as if in thought, before casually offering.

“Well, if I had to guess…” He paused, enjoying the moment, before finally continuing, “The wilds were always a comfort to her. When we were younger, she’d disappear out there whenever things got rough.”

Minthara’s eyes darkened. She knew about your past, about the times you were exiled to the wilds by your mother. She knew you had learned to find solace in the untamed lands, where you could unleash your anger on whatever unfortunate creature crossed your path. But now, things were different.

“She’s pregnant, Lesaonar,” Minthara snapped. “She can’t go wandering into the wilds, especially not in that condition. It is foolish and reckless.”

Lesaonar’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying the opportunity to push her buttons. “Foolish and reckless, yes. But then again, wasn’t it also foolish and reckless to yell at your pregnant wife in the first place? Especially one with a penchant for turning people into driders when she’s really upset?”

Minthara’s expression tightened, her frustration mounting. Lesaonar was, annoyingly, not entirely wrong. She had miscalculated. But still, she couldn’t help but bristle at his casual tone, his relentless teasing.

“Well, what can you do?” Lesaonar finished with a shrug, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Minthara's frustration grew as Lesaonar stood there, still wearing that infuriating smirk. She had no time for games, not when your safety could be at risk. Taking a step closer to him, her voice dropped, cold and commanding.

"You’re coming with me, Lesaonar. You were the last one to see her, and now, you're going to help me find her."

Lesaonar raised an eyebrow, a look of surprise flickering across his face before he tilted his head and chuckled softly. "Me? You want me out in the wilds? Matron, I’m better suited for lounging in silks, charming our allies. I’m a courtesan, not a ranger."

Minthara’s patience, already thin, snapped. "Well, consider it a broadening of your skills. Do I need to remind you that she is your sister? If anything happens to her, I’ll hold you responsible."

He gave her a long, exaggerated sigh, still far too casual for Minthara’s liking. "Responsible? That seems a little harsh, Matron. It’s not as if I told her to run off into the woods."

Minthara's glare hardened. "Lesaonar, I’m not taking no for an answer. We’re leaving now, and you will get ready."

Lesaonar, with that insufferable smile still on his face, leaned in slightly, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial tone. "Ahh, I see now. You’re planning to use me as a drow shield, aren’t you? For when you find her, and she’s still angry enough to turn you into a drider. Smart, very smart, Matron."

Minthara’s scowl deepened, her lips thinning into a tight line. "Get. Ready,"

Lesaonar chuckled to himself, clearly enjoying every moment of her irritation. As he turned to leave, he paused, tossing a final remark over his shoulder. "Should I bring my darling triplets along? You know she wouldn’t hurt their pretty little faces. Or perhaps Lythaera? Might keep us all out of danger."

Minthara ignored him, turning on her heel and barking orders to a servant to prepare the guards and their mounts. She had no time for his theatrics. The only thing on her mind was finding you, and finding you quickly.

Hours later, the group rode through the dense, tangled wilderness surrounding the outskirts of the city, mounted on sleek spiders. The air was thick with humidity, and the dim light filtering through the canopy gave the forest an eerie, oppressive feel. The ground beneath them squelched with every step of their mounts, and the smell of damp earth filled the air.

Lesaonar, riding beside Minthara, was complaining loudly, as expected.

“This is truly unbearable,” he muttered, wrinkling his nose at the surroundings. "The damp, the filth… even my spider doesn’t want to be here. And to think, I could be sipping wine right now, basking in luxury, watch my darling children wreak havoc on the servants. But no, instead, I’m here, crawling through mud.”

True to his word, Lesaonar's spider, much like his owner, was clearly displeased, tentatively stepping around the ground. Minthara kept her eyes on the path ahead, ignoring him as best she could. The guards flanking them exchanged glances, clearly accustomed to his complaints.

“I bet Melinoe is loving this,” Lesaonar continued, adjusting his robes in an attempt to avoid any further dirt from splashing on him. "After our little spat last night, this is probably her idea of poetic justice. ‘Let him suffer out in the wilds,' although she should be grateful that I am not like my sister - otherwise, this could be her you know-"

"-Lesaonar will you cease your nattering." Minthara shot him a glare. "If you spent half as much energy being useful as you do whining, we might actually find her."

Lesaonar smirked. "Useful? Why, I am the picture of usefulness. If not for me, you wouldn’t even know where to start looking. Not to mention, I’m providing you with such charming company. Really, what more could you ask for? "

Minthara rolled her eyes but said nothing, her attention once again focused on the trail ahead. She knew Lesaonar well enough to understand that this was his way of deflecting. Beneath the humor and the dramatics, he was just as worried for you as she was, even if he would never admit it outright.

A tense silence fell over the group as they pressed further into the wilds. The forest seemed to grow darker and more oppressive the deeper they went, the thick underbrush and twisting roots creating an almost labyrinthine path. The spiders moved carefully, their legs deftly navigating the uneven terrain, but even they seemed unsettled.

Minthara’s mind raced. She knew you were out here somewhere, with their unborn child, but with every passing minute, her worry deepened. What if something had happened? What if you were hurt—or worse? She clenched her jaw, refusing to let her mind wander down that path. No, she would find you. She had to.

Lesaonar broke the silence once more, his tone still casual but with a hint of genuine curiosity this time. "So, what’s the plan when we do find her? Groveling apology? Grand gesture of love? Maybe offer her something shiny to distract from a rage that could rival lolth's?"

Minthara shot him a sidelong glance, her expression hard but her eyes betraying her concern. "I’ll do what I need to. But right now, I need to find her first. Keep your focus on that."

As they trekked, the path through the wilds of the Underdark grew darker and more twisted. They had long since passed the familiar stalagmites and glowing fungal forests, venturing deeper into the more dangerous territories where few dared to tread without a full contingent of warriors. But Minthara wasn’t about to turn back now—not when every step brought them closer to finding you.

The first body they found was that of a Hook Horror, its exoskeleton cracked and shattered as though it had been torn apart by pure force. The creature’s massive claws, normally used to crush prey, now lay useless and lifeless, twisted in angles that made even the guards accompanying Minthara flinch. Its once-fearsome head, beaked and armored, was caved in, and the ichor that once pulsed through its veins had splattered across the cavern floor.

Minthara halted her spider and surveyed the scene. Her jaw tightened. This was not the work of a wild beast, but rather something fueled by rage and precision. It made the Hook Horror you decapitated at your engagement party look like child's play.

Lesaonar’s usual sarcasm was conspicuously absent. His spider shifted uneasily beneath him, sensing the tension in its rider. He stared down at the remains of the Hook Horror, brow furrowed in disbelief.

“This… wasn’t just magic,” he muttered, his voice low. “She tore through this thing like it was nothing.”

Minthara glanced at him but said nothing, her mind racing. She had seen your power flare before, especially when your emotions got the better of you, but to eviscerate a creature this powerful—so completely and with such violence—it was beyond anything she had ever witnessed from you.

The party pressed on in silence, the next victim coming into view not long after.

A pair of Quaggoths lay sprawled across the cavern floor, their thick fur matted with blood. Their powerful, brutish bodies were crumpled like ragdolls, and the air still crackled with the residue of arcane energy. It looked as if lightning had struck them down where they stood, searing through muscle and bone. Their eyes were still wide with shock, frozen in their final moments of terror.

Lesaonar, still silent, dismounted from his spider to inspect the scene more closely. His casual arrogance was gone, replaced by something far more solemn as he knelt beside the nearest Quaggoth.

“I’ve never seen her like this,” he said finally, breaking the tense silence. His voice was quiet, almost reflective. “She’s always had control—more control than most of us. But this…” He gestured to the bodies of the Quaggoths, his eyes darkening. “This is something else. Something darker.”

Minthara’s grip on her reins tightened as his words echoed in the cavern around them. She wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that this was just a result of the pregnancy, that your magic had been unpredictable before when you were carrying Lythaera. But she couldn’t deny the truth in what he was saying. This wasn’t just a surge of power—this was fury, unleashed without restraint.

“During her pregnancy with Lythaera,” Minthara began, her voice firm but not entirely convincing, “her magic was… chaotic. Unstable."

“Chaotic, sure. But not like this.” He waved a hand toward the bodies of the Quaggoths, then back to the Hook Horror. “This wasn’t just a random outburst. She chose to do this, Minthara, at least a part of her did. She wanted them dead, and she made sure of it.”

His words hung in the air like a weight. Minthara looked past him, to the devastation all around them. He was right—this was intentional. Your magic, raw and powerful as it was, had never manifested with such brutality before.

“Why?” Minthara muttered under her breath, more to herself than to Lesaonar. “What could have driven her to this?"

Lesaonar looked at Minthara plainly, a single brow risen, "Matron, are you really asking what could have caused your pregnant Lolth-chosen wife to cause this much havoc after you-

“-We’re moving,” Minthara interrupted Lesaonar, emotion thickening her voice, displaying the growing unease inside her. “We have a trail to follow.”

The guards exchanged uneasy glances but followed without question, their spiders skittering across the rough terrain. The atmosphere was tense, and even the creatures of the Underdark seemed to sense it—their usual rustling and chittering had faded into an oppressive silence.

As they went deeper into the caverns, the signs of your path became more frequent and more vicious. A Cave Fisher, its long, deadly threads normally used to trap prey, was shredded into pieces, its segmented body scattered across the cavern floor. Further ahead, a swarm of giant bats lay in heaps, their wings snapped and mangled by what appeared to be a telekinetic storm.

And through it all, Lesaonar remained silent, his usual humor long since abandoned. For once, he wasn’t enjoying the chaos. He wasn’t teasing her or making light of the situation. Instead, he looked troubled—truly troubled.

The change in him was so stark that Minthara found herself glancing at him as they pressed forward. His expression was unreadable, but she could see the worry etched in the lines of his face.

“What is it?” Minthara demanded suddenly, unable to take his silence any longer. “What are you thinking?”

Lesaonar met her gaze, his usual smirk nowhere to be found. That was more terrifying than any of the corpses they had come across.

“I’ve seen her angry before,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve seen her use her magic to defend herself, to show off, to protect those she loves. But this…” He gestured to the latest scene of carnage—a deep, clawed gouge in the cavern wall, where some creature had been pinned and eviscerated by unseen forces. “This isn’t her defending herself. This is her hunting. This is her letting go.”

Minthara’s throat tightened. She wanted to deny it, to push back against his words. But as she looked around at the devastation, at the blood and destruction you had left in your wake, she knew there was no arguing with the evidence.

You were angry—furious, even. But more than that, you were lost.

And she wasn’t sure what would happen when she found you.

Forcing the uneasy thoughts aside, Minthara pushed her mount forward, her determination hardening. She would find you. She had to.

Minthara, Lesaonar, and their guards pushed deeper into the caverns. They had been following the trail of destruction you left behind, and now, the air itself felt different—charged with a strange, arcane energy that prickled at the skin. Minthara’s spider hissed softly, its legs skittering uneasily across the ground as if reluctant to go any further.

Ahead, something shimmered in the faint, bioluminescent glow of the fungal growths along the walls. A thick, silvery mass stretched across the cavern opening, and Minthara’s eyes narrowed as they approached. It was silk—massive sheets of spider silk, spread out like a grotesque webbed tapestry, clinging to the jagged stalactites and winding around the stone pillars.

The scent of death was thick in the air.

As they drew closer, the full horror of the scene came into view. The encampment—once a Duergar outpost by the looks of it—was transformed. Silk covered nearly every surface, from the crumbling stone walls to the corpses lying motionless in the webs. Spiders—of every size and breed—scuttled around the bodies, some feeding, others simply watching, as though they were guardians of this gruesome creation. Webs crisscrossed the camp, glistening with a faint sheen of moisture, making it look as though the whole place had been cocooned.

Minthara’s spider stopped abruptly, refusing to go any further, its massive, hairy legs digging into the ground as if to anchor itself. The other spiders in the party reacted similarly, their eyes fixed on the encampment, seemingly transfixed by the thick webs covering the camp. No amount of prodding or commands could get them to move forward.

“We dismount,” Minthara ordered, sliding off her spider with a sense of urgency, her boots crunching softly against the dirt. The others followed suit, albeit reluctantly, allowing their spiders to retreat back into the shadows.

Lesaonar took in the scene before him with a mixture of awe and disgust. He walked a few steps ahead, only to stop short, raising a hand to his mouth. His face went pale, and Minthara shot him a sharp glance. He turned away from the group and bent over, retching violently onto the stone floor.

“Gods, she really went the extra mile this time,” he gasped between breaths. “I mean, really. Did she have to be so… thorough?”

Minthara ignored his complaint, her sharp eyes scanning the camp, her senses heightened. She heard faint voices coming from deeper within the silken labyrinth—weak, desperate voices. The sounds of Duergar, still clinging to life, barely.

“Be on alert,” she commanded, her tone low but firm. “We don’t know what else might be here.”

The guards shifted nervously, gripping their weapons tightly as they began to move through the camp. Every step was deliberate, their eyes darting from one web-covered surface to another. The half-dead Duergar were scattered throughout the camp, their bodies tangled in thick webs, eyes wide with terror as they writhed in agony. They were too weak to fight, too far gone to be saved.

One of them, a Duergar warrior, was pinned to the side of a rock, his legs encased in silk, his hands twitching as he whispered in a hoarse, broken voice, “Please… kill me…”

Minthara's expression darkened, but she pressed on, stepping over the writhing bodies without a second glance. There was no room for hesitation. Not now.

Lesaonar, still recovering from his earlier sickness, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and straightened up, though his face was drawn and pale.

“I’ve seen her angry, sure,” he muttered under his breath. “But this? This is like something out of a nightmare.”

“Shut up and keep moving,” Minthara snapped, her patience thinning.

As they ventured deeper into the camp, the webbing grew denser, forming walls and corridors, almost like a labyrinth. The sticky strands clung to their armor, slowing their progress. Minthara kept her hand on the hilt of her blade, her sharp eyes scanning for any movement in the shadows. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional, pitiful moans of the dying Duergar and the rustling of unseen spiders.

Then, Lesaonar grabbed Minthara by the arm, pulling her aside abruptly. His face, usually so composed, now showed genuine concern.

“Minthara,” he whispered urgently, glancing back at the others to make sure they were out of earshot. “I was joking earlier, about her turning us into driders. But now? Now I’m not so sure. I’ve never seen her like this. She’s gone past anything I’ve ever known. When we find her…”

His voice trailed off, and for once, there was no mockery or teasing in his tone. Just a deep, unsettling worry.

Minthara looked into his eyes and saw the truth of it. He was scared. And though she would never admit it aloud, so was she. The power you were wielding—the fury that had driven you to create this nightmare—was beyond anything she had ever witnessed from you before.

“She won’t hurt us,” Minthara said, her voice quiet but firm, as if saying it would make it true.

The silken labyrinth wound tighter as Minthara, Lesaonar, and their guards crept deeper into the heart of the transformed Duergar encampment. The oppressive weight of silence hung in the air, broken only by the occasional rustle of spider legs and the faint, rhythmic pulse of arcane power that emanated from somewhere ahead.

And then, they saw you.

You sat at the very center of the camp, surrounded by chaos that could only be described as a scene torn from a nightmare. The webbed bodies of Duergar hung like morbid decorations, still twitching in their final moments. Spiders scuttled across the silken floor, but none dared to come too close to you. It was as though you were the calm in the eye of a storm—perfectly relaxed, a hand resting gently on your pregnant stomach, your other hand absently flipping through a tattered, ancient book you must have found in the wreckage. Your expression was one of detached indifference, as though the death and destruction you had wrought were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

Minthara’s breath caught in her throat as she approached, her eyes wide as they flicked from your serene face to the carnage surrounding you. She had never seen you like this. It wasn’t just rage or vengeance. It was something darker, something colder. And it terrified her.

“My love, you need to come home,” Minthara called out, her voice wavering slightly but still firm. “I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You didn’t look up from your book, your fingers trailing over the ancient, crumbling pages. A scoff escaped your lips, followed by a low, humorless laugh.

“Sorry? Is that what you think I want to hear?” you asked, finally lifting your gaze to meet hers. “Minthara, please. Spare me the theatrics.”

There was a dangerous gleam in your eyes, and Minthara’s heart sank as you mimicked her words from the night before, your voice dripping with scorn.

“‘Your family would die out in the ditch it deserved.' Or how about 'Without House Baenre, you are nothing.’” you mocked, your tone a cruel parody of Minthara’s. “Is that what you want to say again, Minthara? That I’m weak? That I owe my life to your house? Because I seem to be doing just fine on my own.”

"Fine? My love you have-" Minthara began but Lesaonar, standing beside her, elbowed her sharply in the ribs, signalling that this was the wrong approach. The tension in the air was palpable, and he knew that pushing you further would only make things worse.

Minthara flinched slightly but said nothing, her eyes never leaving yours. Her mind raced, searching for the right words, but before she could speak, Lesaonar took a step forward, his usual casual demeanor slipping back into place, as if trying to diffuse the situation with humor.

“Well, I have to say, sister,” Lesaonar began, his voice calm and measured, “you’ve really outdone yourself this time. The place has a… certain ambiance, you know? Very ‘undead chic’ with a touch of ‘arachnid nightmare.’ It’s quite something.”

You arched an eyebrow at him, but he pressed on, a faint smile on his lips.

“But maybe, just maybe, it’s time to take a step back. Relax a bit. You’ve certainly made your point, haven’t you?” His eyes flicked to the nearest webbed corpse, and then back to you, his expression softening. “Look, I know you’re angry. And you have every right to be. But there’s no need to keep going down this path. You’ve made it clear that you’re not someone to be trifled with. So how about we all just… take a deep breath, and figure this out together?”

You watched him for a moment, your expression unreadable. The arcane power thrumming in the air seemed to pulse with your heartbeat, and the spiders around you grew still, as if waiting for your next command.

But then Minthara stepped forward again, her voice low and raw, stripped of the cold authority she usually wore like armor.

“I was scared,” she said, the words slipping from her lips before she could stop them. “I lashed out because I was scared. Of losing you. Of losing what we’ve built together—our family." Her voice wavered, but she kept going, her heart laid bare before you. “I was wrong. I hurt you. And I hate myself for it. But I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with emotion. Minthara’s eyes glistened in the faint light as she stared at you, waiting—hoping—that her words would reach you.

For the first time since they had entered the camp, your expression softened, if only slightly. The book in your hands snapped shut, and you placed it gently to the side. You stood slowly, the hand on your stomach a quiet reminder of the life growing inside you.

“Leave us,” you said softly, your voice no longer cold but carrying a weight of finality. Lesaonar blinked, glancing between you and Minthara, but he didn’t argue. He knew better.

He signalled to the guards, and with a few exchanged looks, they retreated back the way they had come, leaving you and Minthara alone in the center of the ruined camp.

When the last of their footsteps faded into the distance, you looked at her, really looked at her. And as you approached her your eyes locked with hers, the raw, open honesty in her gaze catching you off guard.

“Why did you really come here?” you asked, your voice softer now, the anger simmering beneath the surface but no longer in control. Minthara took a deep breath, stepping closer to you, though she still kept a respectful distance.

“Because I love you,” she said simply. “And I was wrong. I should have never made you feel like you were less. You are everything. To me. To this family. I-I was just foolish and scared. I thought I would lose everything to the reminiscences of the Liakyre House. That one day you would wake up and decide you no longer wanted to be a Baenre.” Your heart clenched at her words, though you tried to maintain your distance, the hurt still fresh in your chest. "I thought if I could diminish it, your past, you wouldn't ever want to go back to it."

As you looked into her eyes, you could see the truth there, the vulnerability she was rarely willing to show. For a long, tense moment, the silence stretched between you both.

Then, without warning, Minthara did something you hadn’t expected.

She dropped to her knees before you, her head bowed, her forehead resting gently against the curve of your pregnant belly. The gesture was so uncharacteristic of her, so raw and vulnerable, that for a moment, it stole the breath from your lungs.

“I beg you,” Minthara whispered, her voice trembling. “Please… come home. I can’t—" Her words faltered, and for the first time, you heard the deep, unmistakable fear in her voice. “I can’t do this without you.”

Her hands, usually so strong and steady, shook as she clutched at the fabric of your gown, her forehead pressed against the warmth of your stomach. It was as if she was clinging to you like a lifeline, terrified that if she let go, you might vanish into the void.

You looked down at her, and for a moment, a cruel part of you relished the sight—Minthara Baenre, powerful and proud, on her knees before you, begging for your forgiveness, for your return. The image stirred something inside you, a dark satisfaction that you had long denied yourself. You were no longer the one grasping at straws, trying to hold onto something fragile. Here she was, broken before you, in need of your mercy.

A faint hum escaped your lips as you gently ran your fingers through her silky white hair, feeling the soft strands slip between your fingers. You didn’t speak immediately, letting the moment stretch on, savoring it. Her submission was like a balm to your wounded pride, and for the first time since leaving, you felt a small, fleeting sense of peace.

“I suppose,” you murmured, your voice lilting with amusement, “Lythaera must be wondering where her mother is. She’s probably upset… and the staff, well, I imagine they’re in complete disarray without me.”

Minthara lifted her head ever so slightly, just enough for you to see the glimmer of hope in her eyes. She nodded, her voice barely more than a breath. “Please, we need you."

The edges of your lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. You tilted her chin up with your fingers, your touch gentle but firm, and Minthara’s eyes fluttered shut as you leaned down, pressing your lips to her forehead in a soft, lingering kiss. The tension in her body melted away beneath your touch, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, there was no resistance between you.

You gently pulled her up from her knees, your hands sliding along her arms until she was standing before you. The faint light of the Underdark glinted off her tear-filled eyes, her face softened by the unspoken apology, the raw vulnerability that she had laid at your feet.

And then, with a suddenness that took even her by surprise, you leaned in, your lips capturing hers in a slow, tender kiss. It wasn’t the fierce, hungry kind of kiss you had shared before, born from passion or anger. This was something different—something softer, more intimate.

Minthara responded to your kiss immediately, her hands sliding around your waist, pulling you closer. For a brief moment, everything else melted away—the death, the destruction, the words spoken in anger. There was only the two of you, and the fragile, tender connection you still shared, despite everything.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against hers, your breath mingling with hers in the quiet aftermath of the kiss. Your hand came to rest on your stomach again, and her fingers gently grazed over yours.

“Come home,” Minthara whispered once more, her voice so soft, so filled with longing. “Please.”

You looked into her eyes for a long moment, the anger that had burned so fiercely inside you dimming. Perhaps it wasn’t gone, not entirely, but the fire had cooled. You had made your point, and now… now, perhaps it was time to return to where you truly belonged.

With a soft sigh, you nodded, your voice low and resolute. “I’ll come home. For Lythaera… and for you.”

A smile broke across Minthara’s face, small but filled with so much emotion that it nearly broke your heart. She kissed you again, softer this time, as if afraid to break the fragile peace that had settled between you.

And for now, you let her.

For now, you let the darkness rest.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Wowwweeee lots of angst, things were getting a bit too chummy around here. But it did mean we got a little Minthara and Lesaoanar team up for y'all (she loves him really). I also wanted to make sure the reader wasn't too domesticated, she is a chosen of lolth, and wanted to explore some of the mental health aspects of it - especially as reader is pregnant.

Hope you guys enjoyed it, please let me know your thoughts down below they quite literally feed my soul and are such great motivators for this series! Love you all! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

@h-doodles @thepotatoislost @longjohnsilverfish @spacezombiez @les-bee @i-must-say-thats-quite-gay @m-for-musings @coratheninth @morganaspet @wineredsea @gaysindistress @trappedinafantasy37 @alicelufenia @damnsupercorp @iprobneedabeard @gingeyart @surrfix

[krowlovesinazuma]

Hi! 🪶 anon back at it again for my Kujou Sara BS~

Can I ask for Yandere!Kujou Sara and Raiden Shogun (Separate) (And yeah, the Shogun) HCs? When you said you did soft yandere, that's the type of yandere I like best anyway, so it works out! Thank you for reading!

-🪶

Read this prologue for context! Also sorry if I made the puppet too OOC, it's hard to write for her ;-;

Scenario: Soft Yandere

Characters: Kujou Sara, Raiden Shogun (Puppet)

Sara as a yandere would be complicated, but believable if you're a holy being. She already worships the shogun, so it would be no surprise if a mythical being of legends and tradition suddenly shows up in the flesh.

However, it would be complex thanks to her previous devotion to the shogun. Yes the two of you are allies and formed a pact of sorts, but would it still not count as a betrayal if she worshipped you as well as her archon? These thoughts trouble her often.

Of course, being a general, she knows better than to reside in inaction just because of confusion, and so she shows her loyalty while her heart remains unsure. Bringing you gifts, safety in travels, and simply being a reliable partner, she stays by your side.

The answer to her dilemma honestly depends on how you treat her, both before and after your reincarnation into the world, but no matter what her decision is, she'll remain your dutiful follower, and trusted cohort.

If you used her plenty in gameplay, and showed her attention above others in the world, she'll succumb to her own desires, but it'll be hard and awkward. Get ready for some stiff hugs, and a lot of blushing, she's trying her best.

Give her time though, and her showings of affection will get bolder and bolder. Offering you dates, gifts, and everything in between, she's ready to show how much she loves you, even if it might not be enough to truly show her devotion.

If you don't show her that much attention however, surprisingly, she's one of the few people that manages to suppress her intense desires, and instead inserts you into her life in a more subtle way, treating you highly, yet distantly.

It may lead to her being a little more workaholic and devoted to the shogun for a while, but she does eventually get over it, even if her desires are still within her. Her will is strong, and her mentality is even stronger!

"Please, do not apologize for gracing me with you presence, creator. Even if you're correct, with it taking away time from my duties, your comments about taking needed breaks are also important, and I see every moment speaking with you as an opportunity to relax. So please, don't be afraid to visit more."

This would definitely be an obsession that doesn't spark in an instant, but builds up over the years that she spends as a ruler. When she was created, Ei made sure to include you in her mentality, to make sure she didn't treat the myths and folklore of you as nothing.

That's why, knowing about your legends, yet only that and not much more was a slow burn of desire to meet you, and obey you directly, much like Ei silently prayed and hoped that you could perhaps bless her region.

Her priorities were still quite screwed when it came to governing over the lands, but much like she made sure to mantain festivities alive, she made sure that the belief in your legends and stories was still alive, even if may be against her complete rule.

When she felt the signs of your coming through the traveler and the other Inazuman folk that were growing stronger, and seemingly ignoring her complete rule, she knew it must have been a sign from you. In fact, she was probably knew about your presence before Ei.

That's why, when it normally should've been time for her end, she showed a strange sense of regret, as she came to realize just how against you she was in the end, and that was enough to convince the others to keep her alive, especially if you spare her through your screen.

I won't divulge into what her role would be now, but she'd have a strange sense of regret and shame lingering in her soul, even though she believed to have listened to her commands to perfection. Did she do something wrong to have both Ei and you against her?

Even if you show up in her world eventually, I could see her being troubled with her actions and your reception to them. Would you accept her? Would you even like her after what she's done? Did she deserve be grazed with your presence at all?

That's why she'll remain hidden from sight, away from the judging stare that you may use towards her. Ei is much more deserving of your attention, and she understands that. It may be up to you to face her yourself...

[sarawritestories]

Hello friends! We are so close to 1000 friends on here! That is truly insane to me! Once we reach it I figured we could all Celebrate! Every day I will be posting a new story!! I will be posting various stories from various fandoms, to show how much I love you all!

In all seriousness, I was happy to have one person read my stories. To know that there are so many of you who like, comment, DM, Ask, and Reblog anything I post means more than I can express in words without making me want to cry. So I will just say thank you! in the form of giving you more stories! Please feel free to comment and tell me which one you're looking forward to!

All My Love,

Sara 💙💙

Dividers by @saradika

Unwavering Presence Chapter 13

Summary: Cassian has been living in his guilt for a week. But with some help of his girl's Twin he knows just what to do and hope that its not too late!

Release date: Posted

Keep Quiet Ruhn Danaan X Hunt's Sister Reader{SMUT}

Summary: You and Ruhn are having an intimate moment when your older brother calls your boyfriend. And Ruhn asks you to stay quiet.

Release Date: Posted

A Dragon Without its Rider is a Tragedy... {Angst} Xaden Riorson X Reader

Summary: Xaden and you are on a mission where everything goes wrong.

Release Date: Posted

Unwavering Presence: Chapter 14 Part 1

Summary To Come

Release Date: Posted

Obey Eris Vanserra X fem Reader {SMUT}

Summary: You and Eris find your own entertainment at a party you were both forced to be at.

Release Date: posted

Enchanted (All Too Well Chapter 2)

Summary: To come

Release Date: 5/4

Celebrate Harry Wells X Reader

Summary: You and Barry return from a tough battle and Cisco insists everyone celebrates. You break away to find a certain scientist from Earth-2.

Release Date: 5/5

[laurentidal]

House Defending

Jenn looked out the window and saw the pretty realtor leading someone new up to the house next door. Sara had been showing the house for five months, but Jenn hadn't let any offers come in just yet. She was still looking for that little something in a neighbor. She remained unsatisfied.

She walked over to the house and let herself in, just as she always did. She could here Sara talking from somewhere deeper into the building. Showing the man the kitchen or the back bedroom. Then the pair walked around the corner and found Jenn sitting on the couch waiting for them.

"And who do we have today, Sara?" Jenn purred at the realtor.

"This is Max, Jenn. Max, this is Jenn. She lives next door and like to come meet the prospective buyers."

Max, for his part, had a lot of trouble stopping his eyes from locking directly onto Jenn's deep and prominent cleavage. He stuttered a hello and Jenn chuckled in a disarming way.

"He's very cute," she said winking at Sara. "I'm glad you brought him around. Did you already get the full tour, sweetie?"

Max was blushing deeply now.

"Not yet," Sara said. "I still have to show him the bedroom."

Jenn's lips curled into a smile. "I can take him. I spent enough time up there when Dale lived here. Follow me, Maxy." She stood abruptly, making sure her tits wobbled strongly in her low cut top. And when she turned, Max got a look at her ass. It was round and full and he found he had even more trouble keeping his eyes off it then her chest. At least she couldn't see him staring with her back turned.

"I knew the old owner well," Jenn was saying. "He used to treat me very kindly. I've been trying to meet the possible owners so that I know the person who moves in will be able to fill Dale's shoes."

Her ass swayed as she walked and talked. Down the hall. Up the stairs. Max stared and listened.

"We'd argue about things. You wouldn't believe how we used to go back and forth." She stressed those words, timing them with the sway of her hips. "Back and forth. And then he'd realize he couldn't win against me. It was impossible to resist. So he quit trying. He stopped fighting and gave into me. He surrendered. He learned that it was easier to just listen and obey. Don't you think, Max?"

"Huh?" Max asked, distracted.

"Poor boy. You must be so tired of fighting your urges," she said as they entered the bedroom. "You've been trying so hard not to stare and offend. But I bet you've been staring the whole way here, weren't you. Of course you were. Look at the bulge in your pants. You don't get that from looking at the drywall."

She pulled her shirt down, letting her tits spill out into clear view.

"Sleepy Max wants to look at these."

He nodded, unblinking. His mouth fell open and a small line of drool began to drip off his chin.

"So cute. Sara, dear!" Jenn called. "I believe we're ready for you."

Sarah walked in the room, completely naked.

"Get me ready for him, doll."

"Yes, Mistress," the realtor replied happily. She stripped Jenn's clothes off , then Max's. She put Max on his knees at the foot of the bed.

"Now Max, you're going to get something of an audition. Satisfy me, and I will allow you to put an offer in on this house. I need to know that Dale's replacement will be able to handle me. But from the looks of that monster, we may finally have a winner. Sara, as always."

"Yes, Mistress," she said again before retreating to the chair where she'd watch them fuck. Part of Sara wanted the commission. But a deeper part would miss these weekly sessions. Perhaps one of Jenn's other neighbors was looking to sell.

[girlinthetardis04]

A peculiar question, but one with weigh comes your way,

If your ocs had to make sandwiches how would they make them? And what beverages would they accompany it with?

(And by ocs I mean either all of them or whoever you are thinking of the most right now, the ones that you really want to talk about)

Ohoho what a question, friendo!

Yuu, AT!Sara and OM!Sara - egg mayonnaise + cactus tea

Estelle (my other Arcana Twilight OC I never talk about 😬) - cheese. Just straight up cheese. Not even grilled. + milk

Rory - honey + hot tea

Robin - cheese and ham + water

Envy - grilled cheese + any soda pop

Auriel - believes hot dogs are a sandwich + hot chocolate

Raegan and Virgil - some nasty Devildom stuff I can't come up with + some nasty Devildom drink I can't come up with

Eden - Nutella + orange juice

And now, this is how I introduce my other Twisted Wonderland OCs! Behold!

Bengal Raaja - any meat tbh + water

Rose Prawne - can't have sandwiches underwater :(

Otel L'Ara - potato chips + cola

Ivory Chrome - those fancy pants mini sandwiches for tea parties and stuff + tea (but fancy)

Medwyn Gorgon - tuna + energy drink

Morgan Mimosa - he's a weirdo and puts sliced fruit in his sandwiches + fruit juice

I'm feeling generous so here a few more never before seen OCs

Lily Lester - those fancy pants mini sandwiches for tea parties and stuff + tea (but british)

Miyuki Kiryuu - idk did early 1900s japan have sandwiches?

Erin - cream cheese + apple juice

Riley - bread and butter + tea

BONUS

Thalara - not sure if ancient Greece had sandwiches, but sometimes she likes to eat bread and cheese at the same time :)

[thatdeadaquarius]

Omg

Hey

Hey!

HEY!!

WHAT ABOUT GOD READER THAT GOT A CURSE PLACED ON THEM BY SOMEONE THEY DON'T LIKE

That curse makes them turn to random ages like,, one day you wake up and your like 3 and the other you're 29 and the acolytes just have to deal with it for a months (and just for funziz you don't keep your memories as a kid *evil laugh*)

I feel like people who are generally around kids would be great around us and some others .... Less so (*cough cough* ei)

AND EVEN BETTER

WHAT IF ENGLISH ISN'T OUR FIRST LANGUAGE AND IT SUMTGING LIKE FRENCH OR SPANISH, AND THE ACOLYTES ARE ALL OVER THE PLACE TEYING TO TALK TO YOU WHILE 14 YEAR OLD READER IS CURLED UP IN A BALL CUS THEY'RE SCARED LSKFJGJDLSK

let the tennage/ kid reader be neurodivergent/autistic (cuz i am and theres bot enough rep on this god forsaken app .·´¯`(>▂<)´¯`·.)

n E wayss <3

LOVE YA !!!!

Aka. your fave >:D kiss kiss

A KISS KISS??!!! FOR ME?!!! 😊🥰😚 <3

BRO i literally designed a whole original character around that concept lmao (except they remember/just body change/everything else kinda matches ur desc! :0 )

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them only), Neurodivergent!Reader, Child!Reader, Teen!Reader

Planet: Language Shenanigans, Platonic

Orbit: Headcanons-ish, mini scenarios

Stars: Arataki Itto, Kuki Shinobu, ft. Kujou Sara, Ei + Raiden Shogun, Inazumans

Comets & Meteors: No Content Warnings & No Triggers Detected.

no bc gif is me as a kid, bc I didn't experience snow until I was 12 💀 +it stayed for like one day, was 1 inch deep, or like 5 cm (for my non-americans out there), and was gone the next lmao- I was terrified when I moved and got REAL snowy days- jfc Snezhnaya would kill little me-

SO I was kinda stuck on this tbh, i usually default to like, headcanons or scenarios if ppl dont specify/im just adding onto what you already said like when its not even really a request u know?

so, uh tried to do headcanons, but idk how good it is Orah, sorry!

Also ik you mentioned as example, but we sticking to Inazuma, bc i feel like I neglect them lol

also i hope u like Itto 💀

♤

you quickly found out that magic obeys some weird type of logic despite being magic, so you only ever fluctuate in age within the range you’ve already been,

ur kinda glad youre not seeing what you look like at 100 years old and getting stuck that way for weeks- only Sophie from Howl’s Moving Castle can be cursed to be old yet has so much rizz that she’s still badass and pulls a wizard boyfriend LMAO

so just bc idk what to make the max,

let’s put you at originally, also bc im not a minor, 20 yrs old

so what I mean by all the above is: you’ve lived 2 decades, 1-20 are the only ages you can be

-that being said,

you’re a menace.

so yeah you could’ve been a quiet kid, a well-behaved kid, a good kid even,

…but not in a magical world full of awesome flora and fauna, and magical creatures,

and gods, and vision users and-

you get the point.

plus, you hadn’t really learned English yet until u were a bit older so (who can blame you i hate this language ur so valid)

and for whatever reason English is the only one these guys speak, besides maybe some mythical creatures like the aranara or something

so its kinda absolute chaos trying to reign u in at times.

so needless to say the entirety of Inazuma is terrified for you.

like, even if you aren’t the “Creator” per say in this, they still know what the warmth of your power feels like

But more importantly-

You know who’s the first to spot a random wandering-non-Inazuman-child? And take you in? Especially one that radiates that same energy of presence they feel sometimes + makes them more powerful???

The Amazing, the All-Powerful, Awe-Inspiring Oni: Arataki Itto!

Not even his gang, or Kuki are the first to see you, nah it’s Itto himself,

he literally finds 12 yr old you just sneaking around in awe in Chinju Forest,

and needless to say ur pretty fascinated with the colors and the vibes, and it’s not like Genshin Impact existed when u were this young, ur poor younger self is just rlly paranoidly looking around

Itto is kinda a lot at first, and he was a little confused by ur constant rubbing your arms, or tapping ur fingers on stuff, (or all the stims u be doing when ur nervous) but he just took it all in stride

so Itto, after like an hour and a few well placed rocks at his face and groin by 12 yr old u who was ready to fight to the death at first, FINALLY convinced you by drawing a little picture of his house and his friends

and all that clear effort, despite the foreign world, foreign non-human guy, etc., made you warm up to him too, afterall, even 12 yr old you knew a himbo when they saw one 💪

at first he just thought you were another person who was getting powered up by that yokai he felt (he was convinced thats what you were when u weren’t physically here before, like some kind of powerful gift giving/deal making yokai)

but after he saw you shapeshift the next morning into 16 yr old you, (he lives with his grandma so ur younger self felt pretty safe staying with a himbo guy and an little grandma lady)

he was now more convinced than ever-

that you were some kind of god that’s been in hiding since the archon war (his granny has a lot of cool stories so what?! hes a very educated oni thank you very much!),

rather than a vision user, and he also thinks u being random ages is deffo a curse, and its to keep ur powerfulness limited!! - Arataki Itto, 202X

(bc younger u doesnt remember that u can upgrade ppl, or at least it takes em a learning curve bc they gotta relearn everytime)

okay but itd be so funny tho if nobody else believes that (esp the non-magical folk), bc to them, ur just like, a bunch of siblings (child, teen, adult you lmao) or a tanuki lol

he eventually gets Kuki to believe, after she also sees how you change/the aura is honestly more powerful too once she’s paying attention, like instead of like a blanket, ur like standing in front of a raging campfire

but she makes him keep it a secret

ur really vulnerable a lot of the time, so they’re both worried abt keeping u happy and safe, aw cuties <3

◇

so yeah, ur literally just chillin with the arataki gang all the time now

the gang become ur besties no matter the age, like they love mild pranks, and general chaos, u wanna explore no matter the age, and also love chaos, esp since it can be magical now (oh child you is having the time of their life when they’re around)

its literally a match made in heaven

plus the more hands on deck, the easier it is to keep ur ass from running off as a kid (and an adult, bc omg a shiny?? a shiny crystal fly???!! lmao neurodivergent 🤝crow/raven = shiny solidarity)

honestly Itto has a blast with all versions of you, and he’s literally the best bc he’s a himbo:

so he’s fine with answering context or “obvious” questions all the time LMAO

and if he makes any conclusions abt ppl’s behavior u dont, he’ll explain pretty quick and simple and he never sees it as awkward or smth

its honestly kinda funny bc ur like 10, and just 🤨🤨🤨??? sometimes at ppl (u got better at reading ppl as u got older obv, and at english too, that doesnt help lol)

he’s super sweet abt it, just really quick which is great too,

“he’s irritated at the guard, not us!”

or “she’s relieved, not upset, don’t worry it’s all good!”

like, u never misunderstand ANYBODY with this Oni around!! <3

(this is mainly bc Itto’s gotta know when to bail, joke, stand his ground, etc. from experience, and messing w/Kujou Sara so he’s actually really good at reading people, only when he’s paying attention tho)

◇

so younger u just feels safe around Itto, and so while u do get taught english (mostly by his grandma/Kuki) u also dont rlly mask,

nor do u know how to mask as well as you do in the future

so ur just running around with the gang, living ur little neurodivergent life, and anytime someone points out smth u do that might be awkward, like repeating something over and over as a stim (esp with learning english phrases/new words at times) the gang and Itto, and Kuki, are all ready to protect 💪

but most of the time what happens is- whether unintentionally or not, Itto manages to make THEM feel awkward or like they’re the ones doing something socially weird all the time 😭

just, a parent is like “this kid can’t speak English, do they even know any other language? Because all I keep hearing is them repeating that sound over and over…”

Itto: “Damn you're right they do that a lot, just like how you peek out your window a lot, but we all got our quirks man, no need to be shy about it, the kid isn’t, so just open those curtains, and that window and look out at the world!”

which announces to the whole neighborhood, bc Itto is only ever not loud when you tap his arm as a signal, that the parent is the nosiest bitch ever, he just puts them on blast for everyone to hear lmao

◇

Itto is actually very respectful about you, and while it would, almost be easy bc of the age switching, for him to infantilize you, he’s really good at treating you like an equal no matter how old you are :0 :D

like a giant teddy bear older brother at times, and the guys and Kuki are all pretty good at it too

(tho dw, Kuki is doing all the emotional distress heavy lifting for all of them over your safety, esp bc when u switch at first u are VERY out of your element/disoriented bc u dont always recognize Teyvat/know less English)

but that being said…

Itto fucking loves your excited/happy stims!!!

You flap your hands? Ittos flapping his arms!

You jump up and down, Itto jumps!,

…with his full grown man self with MUSCLES, and causes a mini earthquake wherever you guys are- yknow a shop, the center of town, somebody’s house, near one of the guards 💀 (which always manages to knock them flat on their ass LMFAOO)

Or best of all, you do little stompy stomps??

ITTO DOES HIS STOMPS WITH YOU, like his idle animation does??? :D !!

DUDE- (/gen.n.)

u were like 8 at the time, and saw Kujou Sara for the first time, she’s looking all badass, mostly bc Itto pranked her and she’s power-walking toward u guys pissed as hell ready to arrest him, but u love it anyway bc shes so cool, and right as Sara gets to u two-

u start doing stompy stomps! And Itto joins!!

…and she’s shocked at first, but realizing how giggly and happy u two are, and then Itto explains its bc of her???

Kujou Sara lets Arataki Itto go, for the first time, ever.

she doesnt explain, but she literally was so melted by cuteness, and a warm familiarity??, by u two she couldnt be mad anymore lmao

Itto is now legally obligated to bring you to any and all matters involving the government, regardless of age, according to Kuki Shinobu, his grandma, and himself

all for different reasons tho, Itto’s like, “My lucky charm! My bestie goes everywhere with me!”

meanwhile Kuki/grandma: “A foreign non-Teyvatian speaking child/teen at times is more adept at keeping Itto in line than anyone else, or at least getting him out of the consequences 💀”

♧

Bonus:

The first time you see the Raiden Shogun,

She scares the shit out of 6 yr old you 😭

And she recognizes that familiar aura immediately, so shes just like:

😶😦😰

(You warm up to her after she offers to show you how she can summon lightning, Itto helped her lmao, and Ei also came out to keep u safe bc Raiden is a little… unaware… at times, of mortal limits, and now that ur in a mortal body-)

Also both of them unanimously agree to be the sugar mother to all ur hyperfixation foods/safe foods ever, SCOREEEE

◇

Bonus 2:

*KUKI WOULD LIKE THE COLLECTIVE CITY OF INAZUMA TO KNOW SHE DOES NOT APPROVE OF ITTO TEACHING U ENGLISH CUSSWORDS

☆

I hope somebody likes Itto enough to enjoy this, sorry if u arent a huge fan of him Orah! I just think he's annoying and neat, and havent written abt Inazuma enough lmao

I finally graduated college/uni by the way guys!!!

Ill actually have a life now that wont be hogged by homework! Like writing! Like drawing! Like anything but school!

Anyway, love u guys, another post coming soon,

Safe Travels Orah,

💀♒️

♡my beloved♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk

[bimu2ndo]

Name: Bimu Sekando

Race: Human

Age: 19

Birthday: November 22nd

Sexuality: Pansexual

Gender: Female

Height: 157cm

Weight: 41kg

Nickname(s): Bee(by Alex, Emicia and Tomoya)

Likes: Singing, listening to songs, snacks, desserts, candy, chocolates

Dislikes: Mustard, chores, being on laundry duty, wearing uncomfortable or itchy clothes

Family: Emicia Sekando (Older sister and my Mystic Messenger MC), Tomoya Sekando (Older brother), Akane Sekando (Mom), Hoon Sekando (Dad), Mochi (Pet golden retriever dog)

Friends (from the human world): Alex Lee (best friend), Yoosung Kim (a close friend and a character from Mystic Messenger), RFA members (from Mystic Messenger), Vanderwood (from Mystic Messenger)

Enemies: Echo Girl (from Mystic Messenger), Glam Choi (from Mystic Messenger), Sara Choi (from Mystic Messenger), Saejoong Choi (from Mystic Messenger)

Others: Alex Lee (classmate), Yoosung Kim (classmate)

Abilities: Singing, street fighting, spell casting (not as good as Solomon)

Occupation: Student at SKY University (at the Human World), spy at ROSEMARY Agency, RAD student (at the Devildom)

Appearance: Dark brown hair that she ties into a high ponytail with long bangs that covers her left eye. Eye color: Dark brown with a bit of gold

Personality: At first she wouldn’t talk much, but once you become friends, she’s funny and bubbly. She doesn’t like interacting with people unless they’re her friends. Even though she has a nice personality, she’s full of sarcasm and jokes. Bimu likes pranks, that’s why she joined the Anti-Lucifer’s League. She gets grumpy real quick (especially with Mephisto) and the only way to make her return to her cheery self is to give her sweets (she has a sweet tooth) or let her hang out with Luke or Beel.

Bio: She’s part Japanese and part Korean (bcs I want her Obey Me story mixed with Mystic Messenger). She lives in South Korea and goes to SKY University with both her friends Alex and Yoosung. She joined ROSEMARY Agency at 18 (along with Alex) as a spy.

[harmlesscigarette]

Mouths burn like cigarettes / inhaling dusted deceptions cremating telltale signs / because malice tastes like sugared lemons on my tongue / and I love to suck the sour embers from your teeth until my lips blister.

“Obeyed,” Sarah Tantlinger