#something deeply evil is forming inside of me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dioslesbianwife · 5 months ago

Note

So.. Valentine's, huh?

IT IS ME. THE EVIL 🕷️ ANON TO SEND ANGSRT. ANGST.

Jofoes breakup or divorce on valentine's. Would they mourn us? Get over it? Kill us? Crash out? Destroy our favourite Cafe? TELL ME. WOULD THEY DROWN IN DESPAIR AND ANGER, OR LET IT OUT AND CAUSE CHAOS? I MUST KNOW THEIR FACES OF SHOCK.

Pb dio, and sanatana. Santana pls. Plsplsplsplsplsplsplsplsplspls

Also hope ur doing OK ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

hii evil 🕷️ lol unhappy valentine's day to u too. haha ur sick for this/j also thank you, i'm exhausted from life lmao but doing fine, hope ur good too ❤️

Jofoes reactions to being broken up with ૮(˶ㅠ︿ㅠ)ა

Phantom Blood Dio

Dio is a master of controlling his emotions, but a breakup- especially on a day meant for love- would shatter that facade, leaving him unrecognizable. He understands the concept of loss, and he definitely feels it now. And it burns him from the inside out.Initially, Dio would react with a cold, calculating rage. He might try to coerce you into coming back, resorting to manipulation and his usual charm. If you refuse, that’s when the mask of control slips. His eyes burn with fury, and for the first time in forever, you see fear- fear of being rejected, of losing control. Dio’s pride would demand you pay. He might not kill you immediately, but the anguish and betrayal he feels would turn into a violent storm. His anger will manifest in the form of chaos: destroying anything you held dear, whether it’s your favorite cafe or the places that held your memories together. He doesn’t know how to cope with losing.In his mind, you should have belonged to him forever. He would drown in despair, but also become a force of destruction, unable to process what’s happening to him. His face is twisted with disbelief and rage, as if he can’t fathom the idea that you could walk away from him.

Santana

Santana's reaction would be far more passive, but just as devastating. He’s not a man who wears his emotions on his sleeve, and this breakup, especially on Valentine’s Day, would have him feeling completely adrift. He doesn’t know what love really is, and he never learned to navigate those feelings, so when you walk away, it’s a gut punch that he just wasn’t prepared for.He’d likely retreat into silence for the first few days, not responding to anyone’s questions or pleas for him to explain. Santana internalizes everything. Instead of going on a violent rampage, he’ll shut down, his emotions buried so deep that it would be impossible for anyone around him to help.His face would be one of utter disbelief and confusion, as if he couldn’t comprehend the finality of the situation. There’s no one he can attack, no one to blame but himself. His sorrow would take shape in the form of quiet devastation. While he might not destroy anything outwardly, you can bet your favorite spots would feel empty, and Santana would be haunted by your absence in every corner of his life.

Wamuu

Wamuu, being a proud warrior, would be crushed by the emotional weight of a breakup. For him, love is an honorable bond, and betrayal feels like a direct dishonor to everything he stands for. On Valentine’s Day, a time for affection, his pride would be severely wounded. At first, Wamuu would try to handle it with grace, maintaining his usual composed demeanor. However, seeing you walk away would hurt him deeply, and while he wouldn’t lash out in anger, he would be left silent, almost as though something inside him had been irreparably broken. His expression would be one of quiet sorrow, a warrior who’s never faced defeat, now humbled by emotional pain. He would internalize the hurt, and though he wouldn’t blame you, the weight of the rejection would make him feel like he’s failed, especially in a way he can’t control. The breakup would leave him reflecting on his worth and questioning the sincerity of love.

Esidisi

Esidisi, ever the passionate and volatile being, would not handle a breakup with grace. Especially on Valentine’s Day, he sees love as a powerful force, one he can claim and use to assert control. If you left him, it would destroy him emotionally, but instead of retreating into sorrow, Esidisi would become consumed by a violent rage. At first, he might be unable to process it, his emotions would boil over, making him irrational and frantic. His face would twist with anger as he demands answers, and there would be no amount of pleading or manipulation that would stop him from wanting to destroy you for rejecting him. But deep down, he would be scared. Scared of losing control and scared of truly being alone. When the chaos subsides, he’d sink into an obsessive need to win you back, but he wouldn't be able to. His pride wouldn't allow him to show any weakness, and yet, the agony of not having you would gnaw at him.

Kars

Kars, despite his godlike status, has a twisted, desperate need for control—and a breakup would crack that control. He may not need you in the conventional sense, but the fact that you chose to leave him—especially on such a meaningful day��would absolutely ruin him.Unlike DIO, Kars wouldn’t explode in rage, but he would begin a careful game of manipulation to bring you back. He would take each word you said and dissect it, find the source of your rejection, and try to outsmart it. His reaction would be a cool, calm attempt to reclaim you, yet it would become increasingly apparent that the more he tried, the more he was losing you for good.His face, though calm on the outside, would show hints of confusion. The God who has everything now feels like he’s losing control over the one thing he truly wanted. When you continue to reject him, he might fall into an obsessive spiral, haunted by the fact that he couldn’t even dominate love.

Kira Yoshikage

Kira is a man obsessed with his own quiet, peaceful life—and a breakup on Valentine’s Day would send him spiraling into emotional chaos. While on the outside, he might seem detached, on the inside, Kira would be destroyed by the thought of you leaving him.He would become an absolute mess. Kira’s initial reaction would be disbelief, followed by a sense of complete helplessness. He’s someone who plans everything down to the smallest detail, and losing you—his most precious thing—wasn’t part of the plan.His face would show disappointment and defeat as he tries to process everything. He might try to mask his feelings by resorting to violence or hiding his true emotions, but ultimately, Kira would revert into himself, becoming more cold and distant. He wouldn’t lash out at you, but the guilt and sadness of the situation would haunt him endlessly.

Diavolo

Diavolo would not accept this, and no one would be able to calm him. He’s a man driven by a desperate need to control everything, and the thought of you walking away would trigger his worst fears. The betrayal would be infuriating for Diavolo, he would feel as if you had betrayed him personally. There would be no love left, only a burning need to punish you, to erase the rejection from existence. But no matter how much he tries to hurt you, the truth remains: you’ve left him. Expect a moment where Diavolo loses all restraint. His rage would be overwhelming, and he may even break everything in his path- he would definitely try to destroy whatever remnants of your love remain. His face would twist in disbelief, shock, and betrayal. But the real devastation is how empty he feels after the chaos. He doesn’t know how to exist in a world where you’re no longer his.

Doppio

Doppio, poor Doppio, would struggle the most with actual emotional processing. He’s already insecure, and the thought of you leaving would make him feel insignificant, small. For him, a breakup on Valentine’s Day would be the final straw, pushing him into a tailspin of self doubt and panic. At first, he wouldn’t even know how to react. What did he do wrong? Was he not enough? His face would be an agonizing mix of confusion and heartbreak, eyes wide with panic. He would try to plead with you, beg for an explanation, to tell him it’s a mistake. But the longer you resist, the more hysterical he becomes.His love for you is deeply rooted, and this break up feels like his heart is being ripped from his chest. His initial shock would fade into a quiet, agonizing sadness. He’s devastated in a way that’s almost too painful to watch, like a lost child who can’t quite comprehend that he isn’t wanted. His reaction would be utter sorrow and a struggle to figure out how to carry on when the love of his life has slipped through his fingers.

Pucci

Pucci is deeply devoted to his higher cause, but he’s still human underneath it all. The realization that you’re leaving him would devastate him. In his mind, he’s always been a servant of God, but his bond with you has become just as important. On Valentine’s Day, of all days, this betrayal would feel like a sign of personal failure. His initial reaction would be one of confusion– why? His stance would be rigid, as if holding onto some unshakable ideal, but there would be a certain tension in his demeanor, a momentary lapse in his composure that would show how hurt he is. The disappointment would be visible in his eyes.Pucci would become desperate in his efforts to understand your decision. He might question his faith, his path, or his ability to lead. This internal struggle would torment him, but instead of lashing out, he would try to reconcile his beliefs with the pain of losing you.

Funny Valentine

Funny Valentine would feel the rejection deeply, but he would refuse to show it outwardly. As the President of the United States, he’s used to being in control and revered, but with you, he allowed himself to feel something real- and now you’ve taken that away. Funny’s reaction would be one of stoic rage at first, but his calm demeanor would crack. You’ve left him on Valentine’s Day, and it hits his ego in a way nothing else has before. He would feel embarrassed and betrayed, his desire to maintain appearances intensified. It would be impossible for him to just move on.His face would shift from cold calculation to burning frustration, the anger hidden behind his calm voice. Funny’s pride wouldn’t let him come to terms with losing you, and he would likely spend days plotting ways to manipulate you back into his life by any means necessary.

Diego Brando

Diego would not take the breakup lightly. His whole existence revolves around his own perception of greatness, and losing you would feel like a personal defeat, the rejection stinging his pride more than anything else.At first, Diego would act indifferent, pretending it doesn’t bother him. But beneath the surface, his ego is shattered. You were his, and now that you’re gone, everything feels wrong. He would struggle with self-loathing, unable to accept the fact that someone could simply leave him.The pain would manifest in a form of guilt and self-doubt, making him question everything about himself and his worth. His face would show visible cracks in his facade, shame mixed with anger. Diego would either try to win you back, unwilling to accept the loss, or he’d fall into an even deeper, more obsessive state, fixating on the idea that he has to get you back no matter the cost.

Tooru

Tooru would initially try to maintain his calm, stoic exterior. He’s used to winning, to getting what he wants. But a break up on Valentine’s Day would cut through that cool façade like a blade. At first, he’d think it was a joke, a test of some kind. You couldn’t possibly leave him, could you? But when it sinks in, when you’re serious, when he realizes that no amount of manipulation or charm can change your mind, his whole demeanor shifts. His face would shift from cocky self-assurance to genuine hurt. Tooru’s ego would be damaged, but he’d also feel a deep loss, the kind that unsettles him completely. He wouldn’t cry, but you’d see the slow unraveling in his eyes. He would lash out, first with sharp words, then with actions, destroying your favorite places, maybe even your belongings, trying to reclaim the power he feels slipping away from him.Yet, even as he does so, Tooru knows in the back of his mind that no amount of rage can bring you back.

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littlest-w01f · 7 months ago

Text

Midnight

Feyre x BatBoys

FEYRE MASTERLIST

RHYSAND MASTERLIST

CASSIAN MASTERLIST

AZRIEL MASTERLIST

ACOTAR MASTERLIST

Summary: Rhysand wants to give the best gift to Feyre. He's more than happy to invite Cassian and Azriel to help make sure everything went perfectly.

Cw: Feysand domming Cazriel. That's it. That's the warning list. Also, bondage, blindfolds, darkness tendril collars and leashes, Evil Rhys? Just a *little* mean. Body worship, mirror kink, shadow play, size difference, FxMxMxM, Smut 18+ MDNI

A/N: IT'S MY MOMMY'S BIRTHDAY! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMY FEYRE, YOU DESERVE THE BEST. Fic on Ao3

The moonlight filtered through the windows as Rhysand approached Feyre from behind, wrapping his arms around his mate's waist, he took in the sight of her, flushed against his chest, melting into him, wearing one of her favourite dresses, it was short, just reaching her knees and forming a deep V neckline that stopped right below her breasts, giving a tantalizing view of her cleavage.

"You look lovely tonight, Feyre darling." He leaned in to whisper, his nose tracing the curve of her neck as she smiled in his hold. As Rhysand's hands roamed over Feyre's curves, his fingers dipped beneath the hem of her dress, caressing the smooth skin of her thighs, gripping at her hips.

"Rhys," Feyre gasped, breathless with need, she reached back to grip his sides tightly, pulling him harder against her.

Rhysand's hands continued their sensual exploration, slipping higher up Feyre's thighs until they reached the juncture between her legs. His fingers grazed the damp fabric of her panties, feeling the heat emanating from her core.

"I can smell how much you desire me," Rhys purred, nipping at Feyre's earlobe before trailing open-mouthed kisses down her neck. "Your arousal is intoxicating."

"Feyre, my darling, I have a special surprise for your birthday," Rhysand pulled away slightly from Feyre, making her turn on her heel to face him, "I want you to wear something for me before that."

Rhysand held out the delicate silk blindfold, letting it dangle enticingly before Feyre's face. "Put this on, my sweet. Let me show you how much I adore you."

Feyre was taken by surprise, but it was pleasant, "I think I know what you've planned..." As she secured the blindfold snugly around her eyes. The lack of visual stimulation only heightened her senses, and she could feel Rhysand' hot breath fanning across her cheek. "Now what?" She smiled, leaning into him.

Rhysand chuckled low in his throat, pleased by Feyre's eagerness. "Patience, love," he cooed, running his fingers through her hair, tugging gently to tilt her head back. His lips found hers in a searing kiss, tongue delving past her parted lips to stroke along hers.

As he kissed her deeply, Rhysand's hands slid down Feyre's body, gripping her hips possessively. With a grin, he winnowed her to the House of Winds, to his room there, the cool night air enveloping them. Rhysand lifted Feyre effortlessly, cradling her in his strong arms as he carried her inside.

Once within the room, Rhysand pressed Feyre against the closest wall, his hands roaming her curves as he backed her into it. Feyre's back arched involuntarily when Rhys' mouth found her exposed throat, sucking and nipping at the tender flesh.

With deft movements, Rhysand pulled at Feyre's dress, letting the garment pool around her waist. He cupped her breasts, thumbs circling the hardened nipples as he lavished attention on her cleavage. Feyre moaned, head thrashing from side to side as the blindfold intensified every sensation.

"Oh, Rhys," Feyre whimpered, her body instinctively to meet his touch. "That feels so good."

Rhysand's hands slid lower, pushing the dress down further until it bunched around Feyre's hips. He hooked his fingers into the dress and slowly drew them down, exposing her glistening folds to the cool air. "Oh? Were you not wearing anything underneath, Feyre darling?"

"No, I misted it when you touched me before... I wanted to be bare for you," Feyre admitted with a sly grin, her legs spreading in a silent invite.

Rhysand's gaze darkened with lust as he drank in the sight of Feyre's nakedness. He knelt between her spread thighs, his hands gliding up her inner legs to grip her ass, squeezing the plump skin.

Leaning forward, Rhysand licked a slow stripe up Feyre's slit, savouring her. Her taste exploded on his tongue, sending jolts of pleasure straight to his cock. He circled her clit with the tip of his tongue before delving deeper, fucking her with long, languid strokes. He gripped her hips and pulled her off the wall and towards the bed.

Feyre struggled to stay on her feet with Rhysand's head buried in her cunt with the blindfold on her causing her to lose balance and land on the bed face first. Rhysand's hands immediately wrapped around her hips, holding her steady as he feasted on her cunt.

"Fuuuck, you taste divine," Rhysand mumbled against Feyre's soaked folds, his tongue plunging deeper. He lapped at her juices, savoring her essence as he brought her closer to the edge.

Feyre's face pressed into the mattress as she cried out for him, "Oh Cauldron, Rhys! Right there!" She buckled against his talented tongue

Rhysand increased his pace, devouring Feyre's climax with enthusiasm. He sucked hard on her clit, drawing out her pleasure as waves of ecstasy crashed through her. Feyre's legs trembled, threatening to give way, but he held her firm, prolonging her bliss.

Rhysand lapped up every drop of Feyre's release, flipping her on her back just to send an image of her all destroyed down their bond, making her shudder, and watching the reaction from the mirrors in the room, showing him every angle, his tongue swirling around her sensitive clit until she finally stilled, panting heavily. He released her hip, standing tall and towering over her prone form. "Now, for your gift, Feyre darling... I said something about how I'm always eager to see what sparks your interests."

Feyre's body froze, at his words, her face started burning with a blush, "Umm... Yeah, I do..." She bit her lip softly, the memory of Rhysand sweating with his brothers after their annual snowball fight. How he'd wanted her to join

Cassian sauntered in, a wicked grin stretching his lips as his eyes raked over Feyre's naked form sprawled on the bed. Azriel followed more quietly, his gaze locked intently on Rhysand, a flicker of desire sparking in his hazel depths.

"What's all the commotion about?" Cassian asked, his tone dripping with false innocence even as he stalked closer to the bed. "We heard Feyre's birthday cries of pleasure echoing through the halls."

Both warriors' gazes remained fixed on Feyre, their expressions a mix of hunger and admiration. Azriel's shadows crawled over Feyre's legs, coiling in their master's desire.

Feyre giggled breathlessly at their voice, having consented to this down the bond, at how casually Cassian and Azriel had walked in after she did.

"Ah, perfect timing," Rhysand purred, gesturing to Feyre's still-blindfolded state. "Cassian, Azriel, would you care to join me in giving our beloved High Lady a birthday she won't soon forget?"

"Happy birthday, my High Lady," Cassian whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear as he pressed a chaste kiss to her temple. His other hand trailed up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

"Thank you, Cass." Feyre hummed, raising her hand towards him, smiling when he took her hand and nuzzled into it.

Azriel stepped closer, his presence both calming and electrifying. His fingers brushed lightly over Feyre's collarbone before drifting down to cup one breast, thumb teasing her nipple. "Hmm... My Lady..."

"So responsive," Azriel murmured, leaning in to capture Feyre's lips in a tender kiss. His free hand wandered down her stomach, fingertips grazing her sensitive skin as he explored her curves.

Meanwhile, Cassian shifted beside Feyre, his muscular frame pressing against her side. He grasped her other breast, kneading the supple flesh while his lips found the hollow of her throat. Feyre shivered under their dual attentions, her hands gripping their chests and biceps, her senses overwhelmed by the heat of their bodies and the intensity of their gazes.

Rhysand watched the scene unfold with a satisfied smirk, falling back on a chair, eyeing the full-length mirror in his room, watching his closest friends worship their High Lady, his beautiful mate, his own arousal straining against his trousers. He stroked himself lazily, enjoying the show. "It seems we have quite the eager participants..."

Take your blindfold off, Rhysand spoke in Feyre's mind, watching her mist the silk into nothing. Their eyes met, Feyre on her back, Cassian and Azriel pressing into her, exploring her body while Rhysand stroked his cock at the sight, a thigh thrown over one handrest, groaning softly.

Feyre's deep blue-grey eyes sparkled with desire, drinking in the sight of her worshippers. She smiled up at Rhys, a sultry promise in her gaze, before turning her attention to Cassian.

The Illyrian warrior's hands roamed her torso, fingers pinching and rolling her nipples as he captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Feyre moaned into his mouth, arching into his touch. Meanwhile, Azriel's lips trailed down her toned stomach, teeth scraping gently along before he continued his path southward.

"Mmmm, sweet High Lady," Azriel purred the title, his hot breath fanning over her cunt as he settled between her thighs. His scarred hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer as his tongue delved into her slick folds, lapping at her juices with relish.

Feyre's back bowed off the bed, a sharp cry escaping her lips as Azriel's talented mouth worked wonders on her sensitive flesh. "A-Azriel!" she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair, trying to urge him deeper. "Az-"

Cassian broke the kiss to watch, his eyes darkening with lust as he witnessed Azriel's ministrations. He leaned down, capturing Feyre's mouth again in a searing kiss, swallowing her moans as his hands roamed her body, caressing and claiming every inch of her.

"Alright that's enough of this." Rhysand's voice rang through the room, and tendrils of darkness shot through from the corners of the chambers, they grabbed Cassian and Azriel, wrapping around their necks like they were dogs on leashes, pulling them off the bed and on their knees to the floor, in front of Rhysand, the warriors were taken by surprise but didn't fight as the darkness ripped their leathers off, leaving them naked and bound.

With a smug grin, Rhysand eyed his bound and helpless warriors, their erect cocks bobbing with each quickened breath. "Look at you two, so obedient and eager to please," he crooned, trailing a finger down Cassian's wing.

Cassian's hazel eyes flashed with a mix of arousal and submission, his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. Azriel, meanwhile, kept his gaze lowered, a flush creeping up his neck at being manhandled by Rhysand's shadowy powers, his own melting into the room from their High Lord's order.

"Now then, let's make sure these males remember who truly rules here," Rhysand purred, something fully High Lord, his own cock throbbing in anticipation and the sight of Feyre, "My love, shall we teach our loyal subjects the true meaning of devotion? It is your birthday afterall."

Feyre smirked, sitting up, she turned to Rhysand, a seductive look playing on her lips. "Why don't we start with Azriel? Show him how much we appreciate his loyalty." Her gaze drifted to the bound Illyrian's exposed cock, already leaking precum, he was huge, making Feyre nearly drool, the muscles, every inch of his body.

At Feyre's command, Rhysand leaned forward, his dark eyes blazing with possessive desire as his power dragged Azriel forward, nearly throwing him at Feyre's feet, making him groan. The Shadowsinger's breath hitched, his chest heaving with restrained need as he rested his head on her knee, looking up at her, hazel eyes black with lust.

"Oh, my sweet Azriel," Feyre cooed, running her fingers through his dark hair, tugging his head back to expose his vulnerable throat. "You've been such an exemplary spymaster... I think you deserve a special reward."

She leaned down, her lips brushing the shell of his ear as she whispered, "Open wide, love." Azriel obeyed without hesitation, parting his lips as Feyre pulled him to her, locking her thighs around his head, laughing as she squeezed his head almost like a dig at him.

Azriel moaned around Feyre's cunt, his tongue eagerly probing her entrance as she ground herself against his face. His hands, still bound behind his back, clenched into fists, desperate for purchase but unable to do anything but submit to his High Lady's whims.

Rhysand watched the display with rapt attention, his own cock twitching in anticipation, when Azriel licked wrong, he pulled at the leash, silently telling him to fix himself. He mentally reached, a dark tendril wrapping itself around Azriel's thick cock, giving it a slow stroke. "Such a good boy, taking everything his High Lady gives him," He praised, his voice low and husky.

Meanwhile, Cassian watched the display with rapt attention, chest heaving as he too sat bound by Rhysand's darkness. His eyes gleamed with unbridled lust as he watched Azriel service Feyre so thoroughly. His own cock throbbed in time with the strokes Rhys' shadow delivered to Azriel's, pre-cum beading at the tip, Azriel's wings fidgeting behind him.

"Yes, just like that," Feyre purred, her nails digging into Azriel's scalp as she rode his face with increasing fervor. "Show me how much you adore me, Az. Worship me with that wicked tongue of yours."

Azriel responded with renewed enthusiasm, his tongue delving deeper, fucking Feyre with abandon as her juices coated his chin. The pressure of her heel on his wings only heightened his pleasure, and he couldn't hold back a muffled moan around her cunt.

Rhysand chuckled darkly, his grip on Cassian's bound form tightening as he felt the warrior's pulse race. "Looks like someone else is getting impatient," he teased, giving Cassian's cock a few pumps by his darkness before releasing it. "But patience is a virtue, especially when pleasing your High Lady."

He turned his attention back to Feyre and Azriel, ignoring the whine from Cassian, admiring the way the spymaster's face contorted in pleasure as he devoured her. "You're doing wonderfully, Azriel. But I think Feyre needs more than just your tongue right now."

Azriel gasped as if he could breath again, his face flushed red and lips swollen as Feyre let them go, but a triumphant glint shone in his eyes. He looked up at Feyre with a mixture of pride and adoration. The second he felt Rhysand's darkness drop him, he pounced on her.

Azriel's large hands gripped Feyre's waist, lifting her effortlessly as he claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss. His tongue plunged past her lips, tangling with hers in a fierce duel of passion. Feyre moaned into the kiss, her legs wrapping around Azriel's waist as she ground her soaked cunt against the head of his cock.

Breaking the kiss, Azriel's breath came in ragged pants as he gazed at Feyre with burning intensity. "I've waited so long to have you like this, all mine," he growled, his voice rough with desire. Without waiting for a response, he positioned himself at her entrance and thrust deep inside her with one powerful stroke, filling her completely. "My High Lady."

Azriel set a relentless pace, his thick cock pounding into Feyre's dripping heat with each powerful thrust. The bed creaked beneath them, the sound mingling with Feyre's wanton cries and Azriel's guttural grunts of pleasure.

Rhysand watched the spectacle with a satisfied smile, his own cock straining against his breeches. He knew exactly what his mate needed to push her over the edge. Reaching out with his powers, he wrapped a dark tendril around Feyre's clit, giving it a deliberate squeeze. "Come now, Azriel, bark for us, all pretty."

Azriel looked up from Feyre's neck at the tug on the makeshift collar, his eyes flashing with dark amusement. "Woof woof!" the sound was mocking Rhysand, but the High Lord still reacted with an amused smile, Azriel sunk his teeth into Feyre's shoulder as he hammered into her even harder, the force of his thrusts rocking her entire body, rough growls and

"Come for us, my love," Rhysand commanded, his voice echoing in Feyre's mind. "Let Azriel feel you clench around him as you surrender to ecstasy."

Feyre screamed, her back arching off the bed as Rhysand's dark magic sent her hurtling towards climax. Azriel's cock drove into her with increased ferocity, matching the rhythm of her racing heart. The combined sensations pushed Feyre over the brink, her cunt spasming wildly around Azriel.

"Azriel! Oh gods, yes!" Feyre wailed, her nails scoring down Azriel's back as she came undone. Her inner walls rippled and convulsed, milking Azriel's cock for all it was worth.

"Fuck, Feyre!" Azriel groaned, face buried in her breasts, trying to fight off his own climax. As Feyre's contractions milked his cock, Azriel's control snapped. With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside Feyre's quivering depths. A roar tore from his throat as he spilt his release deep within her, painting her insides with his hot cum. "Shit... Fuck." He gasped, staying inside her as he struggled to catch his breath, his hips twitching with aftershocks. Feyre cradled Azriel's head to her breast, stroking his sweat-dampened hair as he softened inside her.

Rhysand watched the pair with a smug expression, he knew it wouldn't be long before he joined the fray. With a thought, Rhysand summoned a strand of his darkness, wrapping it around Cassian's neglected cock. He gave it a gentle tug, earning a choked gasp from the bound Illyrian.

Rhysand dragged Azriel away from Feyre, forcing the spent spymaster onto his knees beside Cassian. "Well, is it the general's turn now, Feyre darling?"

Rhysand smirked at Feyre's eager nod, then leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Good girl. Now, let's see if we can't get these two caught up." He released Cassian's bound wrists, allowing the warrior to reach for Feyre.

Cassian's fingers found their mark, sinking into Feyre's hips as he flipped her on all fours, using her hair to pull her head up so she could look at Rhysand. As soon as Feyre's body went taut, Cassian surged upward, impaling her on his rigid cock in one smooth motion.

It was as if he was trying to take back control from when Rhysand had him bound, which made Rhysand squint his eyes at him with a hint of amusement. "Oh, Cassian, always so eager to dominate," Rhys murmured, reaching out to caress Feyre's cheek. "But you know I prefer to watch you unravel under our touch."

With a flick of his wrist, Rhysand sent another tendril of darkness curling around Cassian's throat, giving him a teasing squeeze. Cassian gritted his teeth, struggling to maintain his rhythm despite the added stimulation. "Don't stop, general," Rhys coaxed, his voice a seductive purr. "Give Feyre what she deserves."

Feyre met every savage thrust with equal ferocity, her inner muscles clenched greedily around Cassian's cock, drawing him deeper with each pump of his hips. Cassian's grip on Feyre's hips tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pounded into her mercilessly.

The bed frame creaked, threatening to give way under the force of their movements. Rhysand's dark energy continued to play with Cassian, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through the warrior's body with each pass. It was clear Rhysand intended to keep Cassian on the razor's edge until he couldn't take anymore.

Sweat dripped down Cassian's face, his vision blurring at the edges as Rhysand's dark magic pushed him closer to the brink. The sensation of Feyre's tight cunt gripping him like a vice was almost unbearable, her moans and cries of pleasure music to his ears.

"Cassian…" Feyre whimpered, her voice high and breathy, he was so much bigger in size, the feeling of him manhandling her making her burn. "So good… don't stop…"

Her words were enough to send Cassian careening over the edge. With a hoarse bellow, he slammed into Feyre one last time, his cock pulsing as he flooded her womb with his seed. The intensity of his orgasm seemed to draw out Rhysand's magic, the dark tendrils squeezing loosened around Cassian's throat as he shook and twitched above Feyre, trapping her under his size, covering her fully with how much bigger he was than her.

His chest heaved against her back as he fought to regain his breath. His softening cock remained lodged inside her, still twitching with aftershocks. Feyre lay limp and sated, her body slick with sweat, her skin glowing with a post-orgasmic sheen. Azriel climbed in bed with them, the three of them pressed together. The spymaster kissed Feyre's wrists, going up and down her hands, holding her hands in his scarred ones, surrounding his High Lady with his wings.

Seeing Feyre so thoroughly loved and pleased was Rhysand's undoing. With a wave of his hand, Rhysand dispelled the lingering strands of darkness, freeing Cassian and Azriel from their sensual torment.

"Feyre looks utterly ravished." He leaned down to press a tender kiss to her forehead, his fingers trailing through her disheveled hair. "And you three are quite the sight - sweaty, rumpled, and thoroughly fucked within an inch of your lives."

Rhysand's own arousal was straining against the confines of his breeches, aching for relief. But first, he wanted to indulge in a bit of playful retribution. "Think you can take one more?"

Without waiting for a response, Rhysand captured Feyre's lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to claim her mouth. At the same time, he ground his hips up, rubbing his straining cock against Feyre's folds. The friction was maddening, stoking the flames of desire higher. Rhysand broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

The four of them tumbled onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, Rhysand's body pinning Feyre beneath him. His hips continued to rock against hers, the head of his cock slipping through her soaked slit, teasing her entrance without fully penetrating.

"Every inch of this delicious body belongs to me." He nipped at her jaw, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin before soothing the sting with his tongue.

With a swift roll of his hips, Rhysand sheathed himself inside Feyre, a low growl rumbling in his chest at the exquisite feel of her enveloping warmth. He began to move, setting a slow, deliberate pace that allowed them both to savour the moment.

Cassian and Azriel moved in tandem, their bodies mirroring Rhysand's as they positioned themselves on either side of the couple. Cassian's hands roamed over Feyre's curves, while Azriel's lips trailed kisses along her neck and shoulder.

Cassian's calloused palms skimmed over Feyre's breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples, making them pebble beneath his touch. Azriel's mouth left a trail of heat, his tongue darting out to taste the salt of her skin.

Rhysand's thrusts grew more insistent, his cock driving deep into Feyre's welcoming heat. He set a relentless rhythm, his hips snapping forward with each stroke. The lewd sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the room, punctuated by Feyre's wanton moans and gasps.

"Look at you, my darling," Rhysand panted, his gaze locking with Feyre's as he pistoned in and out of her. "A beautiful mess, lost in pleasure."

Feyre's eyes fluttered closed, her lashes fanning across her cheeks as she surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. Her nails dug into Rhysand's shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin.

Cassian and Azriel's attentions only heightened her pleasure, their touches igniting sparks that raced through her veins. Feyre felt consumed, adrift in a sea of lust and devotion. Rhysand's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers biting into her flesh as he drove into her harder, faster. The bed creaked beneath them, the frame straining to contain their frenzy.

With a final, brutal thrust, Rhysand buried himself to the hilt, his cock throbbing as he spilt his release deep inside Feyre. His roar of completion echoed off the walls, mingling with Feyre's scream of ecstasy as she reached her own release. As the aftershocks wracked their bodies, Cassian and Azriel continued their ministrations, coaxing out every last tremor of pleasure from Feyre. The four of them lay entwined, panting and spent, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction. Cassian and Azriel's limbs tangle with Feyre's.

"Happy Birthday, My Feyre darling." Rhysand spoke softly, stroking her cheek as he cleaned them all with a wave of his hand, "I love you with everything I am." Leaning down he pressed a gentle kiss to her nose.

Feyre's nose crinkled playfully at his words, "Thank you. I love you too." She nuzzled into his chest as he pushed Cassian and Azriel away to hold his mate, "And I loved this."

{General Taglist- @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-angst @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @velarisnightsky444 @minnieoo @mellowmusings @romanticatheartt @daughterofthemoons-stuff}

{Rhysand Taglist- @yeonalie}

{Cassian Taglist- @yeonalie @nestastits}

{Azriel Taglist- @fxckmiup @annamariereads16 @saltedcoffeescotch @fieldofdaisiies}

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holylulusworld · 5 months ago

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Bad Santa (4) - The special room

Summary: You’re an evildoer. This year, Santa is going to punish you. His evil twin brother has other plans.

Pairing: Santa!Ari Levinson x Naughty Lister!Reader x JackFrost!Steve Rogers

Warnings: naughty lister reader, painful memories, mentions of bruises, angst, mentions of neglect

A/N: For my story, Jack Frost is Santa’s twin brother.

Bad Santa Masterlist

Catch up here: Bad Santa (3) – Punishment

“Slow down!” You try to get away from Ari, the strict Santa, and back to Steve, who already misses you. While you wiggle in his iron grip, unable to free the wrist he holds in a tight grip, he stomps toward the room he was talking about. “Hey, shouldn’t you be gentler and a little nicer? You’re Santa Claus, aren’t you?”

“Naughty listers do not deserve kindness,” Ari bites back. He’s still angry at himself and his brother for the moment of weakness you caused. “How dare you seduce me, succubus!”

“If I remember right, it was your brother seducing me with his ice play and glorious cock. You joined him without hesitation. You are the bad guys in this,” you chuckle darkly. “Anyone hearing the story of how you kidnapped an innocent woman only to use her like a whore would arrest you.”

“Silence,” Ari stops in his tracks, dropping your wrist. You rub the sore skin, wincing as you can feel bruises form. “You won’t speak until you are allowed to speak!”

He glares at you, but his features soften when you rub your wrist to ease the pain. Ari sighs and closes his eyes to calm down. He failed to help you become a better person and made it his mission to turn you into an angel.

“Give me your wrist,” he holds out his hand, but you won’t trust him.

“I’m good, really,” you press your hand to your chest. Still butt-naked, you feel a little underdressed next to Ari in his costume – or are these casual clothes to him. You don’t know.

“Y/N, give me your hand.” You stare into his eyes, feeling lightheaded as he calls your name, almost chanting it like a prayer. You willingly place your hand in his large palm, feeling the warmth spread through your whole being. “There you go. A little gift from Santa because you made him feel good.”

“Am I forgiven?” You carefully try. If you can get into his good graces, he’ll bring you back to reality, back to your old life. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. “Can I go home now? I promise not to bang my boss. I bet he can’t keep up with you or your brother.”

He huffs but says nothing. “Your wrist should be fine now. If you stop moping and being a bad girl, I’ll get you some food and grant you rest for five hours. Tomorrow morning, you’ll start working with the elves.”

“Working?” You echo while looking at your wrist. Ari is right. The pain is gone. How he did it, you have no clue. Maybe it’s some kind of trick. “I already have a job in the real world. Listen,” you sigh deeply. “I get that to you; my lifestyle must look bad. But I’m not hurting anyone. All my life, I had to take care of myself.”

“Go inside, and don’t come out. There should be something to wear for you, too,” Ari is not impressed. “Have a rest. You’ll need it.”

Ari unlocks the room, pushing the door open to let you in. He waits for you to enter the room before slamming the door shut behind you, locking it.

Trapped once again, you sigh. At least the room is warm and comfortable. Something is off with this place, but you can’t quite put a finger on it. The air feels wrong, just like the warmth surrounding your bare body.

“What’s this?” You look around the room, watching it change from a warm and cozy room looking like a hotel room to a colder place. It looks a little familiar, too, if you squint. “What is this?”

You shudder, feeling coldness surround you. Where a warm and cozy bed was standing not seconds ago, stands now an old bed with a lumpy mattress and dirty sheets. An old teddy bear, dirty and wetted with tears, lies on the mattress. Lost like its owner.

“No—” you choke out a sob, stepping away from the bed. “Why are you doing this? This is all your fault! I only ever wanted for Daddy to come back, but you brought me nothing but this fucking teddy bear!”

You ram your fists into the door, hammering against the wood, screaming at the top of your lungs.

“I begged you to bring him back, to make mommy love me again, and for her not to run off with strangers during Christmas! But you only brought me cookies, candy, and another toy I traded for food! If anyone is the bad guy in this story, it’s you. You suck!”

The room changes immediately. It turns back into the cozy bedroom, but the teddy bear remains on the bed. It looks brand-new, unused, and fluffy.

On the other side of the room, Steve fights with his brother. He throws icicles at his brother, ready to freeze Ari’s ass off.

“She’s not ready to face her past. This,” he points at the room, growling his brother’s name, “is cruel. You fucked this, her up. All she is today – Naughty Lister, whore, candy thief, is your damn fault.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? Back then, I was at my lowest, doubting my purpose. I lost my faith and did only the bare minimum. She needed a friend, someone helping her, but I gave her a teddy bear…”

Tags in reblog.

#ari levinson #steve rogers #santa au #ari levinson x reader #steve rogers x reader #x reader #Bad Santa (4) – The special room

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beginningofwonderland · 1 year ago

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Die For You - Hongjoong

Pairing: Hongjoong x fem Reader

Genre: smut with plot, plot with smut (18+ MDNI!)

Word Count: 7.4k

Summary: When enemies infiltrate the castle, you and your guard have to flee to a hiding spot deep inside the building. But a sudden appearance of enemies leaves your guard deeply wounded. As you tend to his wounds, you can't ignore the rising tension between the two of you any longer.

Tags/Warnings: Hongjoong as your guard, Royal au, San makes an appearance as an evil assassin, blood, death, violence, pretty detailed knife fight, the knifes don't make it into the bedroom though so no warning in that way, dirty talk (a little derogatory), oral sex (both receiving), unprotected sex (this is purely fictional pls use protection if you mess with your security guard), cumming in mouth I've never written any kind of royal or not modern setting before so bear with me. How do you dirty talk in that kind of au??

The darkness from outside spread over the floor in front of you like a disease. Seeping black all encompassing every step as you ran along the abandoned hallway. You didn't know if the darkness was comforting because no one could see you, or terrifying since you couldn't see much yourself.

The royal guard had decided to extinguish all the torches to confuse the enemies after the invasion began. As soon as the first intruder was spotted, chaos had broken loose. Immediately you were removed from the banquet. Accompanied by only your head guard you were supposed to flee to your second bedroom, which was hidden away deep in the maze-like corridors of the castle as a hiding space.

"You should get rid of those shoes, my princess. They are making quite the noise and I don't imagine them being comfortable either," your guard recommended. His voice was lowered so that the sound wouldn't carry too far.

In the haste of the moment you hadn't even thought of the clacking noise your shoes made with every step. But now you were very aware.

"You're right," you replied in a whisper and stopped to take off your heels. You thought about carrying them but before you could take a single step further your guard snatched them from you and threw them out the nearest window. You stared at him dumb-foundedly.

"If we leave them here it's a clear trace to you and they are only in the way if you carry them," he explained. A slight hint of annoyance clung to his voice as if he was getting impatient with you.

"They were pretty though," you complained under your breath while resuming your path.

You didn't overhear the snort behind you. "I'm sure you can simply buy new ones, my princess."

There was a certain teasing tone to his voice now. It's what you liked about Hongjoong. Even though he held the most important position in your personal guard he didn't treat you like the other guards did. He still let his character show through on the edges of his tough exterior. A smirk that was hidden away in the darkness formed on your face.

A sudden noise from behind you made you lose said smirk in an instant. The sound was clearly of clashing weapons and the fight seemed a mere few corridors away. Your heartbeat accelerated at a concerning rate as you threw a glance over your shoulder. The darkness didn't grant you any information but before you could spy any longer, Hongjoong strode beside you grabbing your arm.

"We should hurry," he advised. The stern voice he had when he was carrying out his job had returned as he was spoke closely to your ear.

The close proximity brought shivers to your skin, which you hoped he wouldn't notice as he dragged you forward by your arm. You couldn't help but be intrigued by your main guard's presence, even in moments like these. He had this strong aura around him that only intensified whenever he bickered with you. But that was something to think of at another place and time.

You both made your way through the maze of corridors in a way only people that knew the place like the back of their hand could. But in the middle of your usual path Hongjoong stopped you by slightly squeezing your arm.

"We should take a detour, I have a bad feeling about going the usual way. If our enemies were able to get into the castles there might be traitors amongst us that know their way around."

You simply nodded at him, trusting his judgement without a doubt. Finally, your eyes had somehow grown accustomed to the darkness and you were able to make out Hongjoong's face again. His expression was determined as he led you down a different way from your usual path.

It had grown terribly silent around you. It was probably just because the distance between you and the main disturbance grew bigger but something about it made you feel eerie. Your breaths came shallow now and you were sure Hongjoong noticed too, with the way he cast you worried glances.

As you turned the next corner he stopped you two abruptly. His arm immediately went in front of you and he shoved you behind himself without ever losing his focus on what laid ahead of you. Three persons had appeared in the darkness before you. They also had stopped in surprise but now they were slowly approaching, their dark figures looking like wild animals as they stalked towards you.

"Look what we have here. The cause of all this trouble," a honey-sweet voice announced. It was the person in the middle of the three and as he came even closer you were able to make out some of his features in the moonlight that fell through the high-arched windows. He had a sharp jaw and cheekbones, elegant eyes and to you personally he looked almost annoyingly attractive.

Hongjoong in front of you let out a snort. "San. We meet again like this."

The name caused a cold shudder to run over your back. San was known as the dark knight of the Choi kingdom. His abilities as an assassin were known beyond the borders of his country especially since your enemies used them as a weapon against you. He had already assassinated important diplomats and close advisers of your father, the king.

Having this man in front of you was the worst possible outcome of the evening. Hongjoong however didn't seem to be as frightened as you felt. His hands only went to his belt in a calm manner, pulling out two daggers. You had seen what he could do with those before and the reassurance of the weapons gave you hope again.

"You're going straight to violence? I thought we could talk this out first," San complained in a whiny tone. His attitude made shivers run over your skin. How could you be so relaxed when facing a death battle.

"If you want to talk, I'm kindly asking you to leave. If that's not what you want then you should prepare to die." Hongjoong took a step forward, falling into a fighting stance.

"How optimistic," San chuckled. But then his voice changed to a more threatening tone: "Get her."

What a coward, you thought. Sending his men first instead of fighting himself. But then your thoughts were interrupted by watching the scene in front of you play out.

The two men approached quickly. It was hard to see clearly in the dim light but you were quite sure both of them carried a dagger as well. Hongjoong threw a calculating gaze at both of them before they faced him. He couldn't move around them so that he would only face one because then the other would have a clear way to you. So his only chance was to fight both at the same time.

And that he did. Hongjoong dodged every single slash or punch they threw at him. It looked like he was dancing with them in an endless rhythm of moving around their blades. His movements were fluid like water and you could have even sworn a smug little smirk tugged on his lips as he countered his enemies.

The first one fell as one of Hongjoong's daggers was buried in his stomach. Hongjoong pushed him out of his way with a kick and then faced the second. A fire was burning behind his eyes now, heavy breathing filling the air between the two opponents. It felt surreal to you, how you just stood back and watched it all unfold. Even more so, since San was doing the same in the back, even leaning onto a wall leisurely.

This guy is out of his mind.

San's second accomplice seemed to be a better fighter as he endured Hongjoong's attacks for longer. A quick slash of Hongjoong's knife gave him a deep cut into his arm but he kept going with the other.

The longer the fight dragged on, the more nervous you got. Your enemies were stalling for time and at any second, more intruders could appear behind or in front of you. Your suspicion was only heightened when out of the corner of your eyes you saw San starting to move. It almost slipped past you with the silent way he moved. Like a black cat sneaking its way through the darkness he had moved towards your direction while Hongjoong was busy fighting.

"Hongjoong!" you screamed out in panic, moving towards him and away from San. A grin spread on your enemies face that only heightened your panic.

Turning around at your pleading words, Hongjoong missed a crucial second of watching his opponent. A heavy punch hit him on his cheek as soon as his attention was interrupted. You gasped from the impact and Hongjoong released a heavy groan. But the hit only ignited the fire inside of him more. Without missing another beat he hit his opponent with a kick, making him bend over before he cut his throat without hesitation.

But he had taken a second too long. Before he was able to face San and hide you behind him, an arm had grabbed you harshly from behind, pulling you close to San and holding a knife to your throat.

It was the first and only time you had ever seen a sliver of fear flicker in Hongjoong's eyes. But he quickly controlled himself again and was back to his stern face.

"Now if I were you I wouldn't do anything I might regret later," Hongjoong warned his opponent.

"I can say the same for you," San laughed and pressed the blade closer to your neck making your eyes flutter in fear. You've been hunted by the Choi kingdom ever since you were born. As the only heir to your severely sick father, with you out of the way, the Choi king could finally take over your country after years of territorial war.

The feeling of being chased was so ingrained into your bones that it now rendered you motionless in panic. All you could look at was Hongjoong. His eyes flickering to yours as if checking up on you.

Why is he not killing me already? you thought to yourself. Isn't that what they wanted all these years?

The same thoughts must have gone through Hongjoong's head as he watched his opponent with a calculating gaze. You noticed how his eyes lingered on the hand holding the knife at your throat.

"To make this all the more interesting," San suddenly started explaining: "the young king Choi has changed his mind. He doesn't want to assassinate the princess as he fears the uproar of the people. Instead he wants to marry her."

Your eyes widened in surprise. What on earth was this now.

"You know," San continued. "Make her attend public events and then lock her up for the rest of the year like the little political puppet that she is."

You could practically hear the devilish grin in his words as he finished that sentence. And it seemed to ignite something in Hongjoong. As pure hatred washed over his face, he threw one of his daggers.

The blade approached you as if it was in slow-motion. Hongjoong had calculated correctly. You were so paralysed into your spot that you didn't move a single inch. The blade then bore itself into San's arm, making him drop his own knife.

"Get back, princess!" Hongjoong shouted as he tore you away from San, using the second of distraction after his opponent got hurt. Finally, he had you secured behind him again.

San ripped the blade out of his arm, throwing it to the side without a single sign of pain on his face. There was only anger. Within the blink of an eye the two were at each others throats.

It was the fiercest fight you had ever witnessed. Both of them were not only very talented but also ruthless. They kept up a rhythm of circling each other and then slashing out with their daggers. Both of them suffered small cuts when not dodging in time but what worried you more was that you could see Hongjoong breathing heavy. After already fighting two people he was simply tired out compared to his opponent.

"You know you can't win this," San provoked him, probably hinting at the same realization you just had. "Just give her up already. I might even spare your life."

"This is not about me," Hongjoong replied sternly. They were back to circling each other, catching their breath.

"So dutiful? I never understood you guards. I do this for money and not for the honour. Or are you doing it for her pretty face?" He was smiling devilishly and San's suspicions were proven true when Hongjoong immediately lashed out at him with his knife. San must've hit a spot with his words.

You could sense Hongjoong losing his focus, blinded by rage, and you knew you had to do something. In the midst of their battle you picked up Hongjoong's second knife from the floor which San had thrown to the side. When you turned back around to face them, San had forced Hongjoong against a wall and your guard could barely keep up with the continuous attacks of his enemy.

In a hasty decision you stormed towards San, knife in hand, ready to bury it deep into his back. But you had underestimated him. Before you could launch your attack he managed to hit Hongjoong's hand with the hilt of his knife, making him lose his last weapon. In the moment of confusion he turned around and slashed his knife after you.

"Thought I wouldn't notice you, little thing?" he asked with a smirk before returning his attention to Hongjoong.

He never intended to kill you, he just wanted to ward you off and he succeeded in that as you jumped back in fear. It took a second to settle in but a burning pain pulsated on your lower arm. When you looked down a long slash opened your skin, dark red blood already running down your arm.

Hongjoong was now protecting himself with his bare hands. His arms trying to direct San merciless attacks. He was littered in cuts by now and you felt the crushing fear of him losing right in front of you. Or worse, him dying.

"Hongjoong!" you tried in a last attempt to save the both of you. You knew it would distract him again, but it was the only chance.

Before he could even look, you threw his knife in his direction. Luckily, he caught on immediately and his hand reached for the blade in the fraction of a second. Surprising San for probably the first time this evening, Hongjoong immediately brought down the knife in between his rips, burying it to the hilt.

San's knife fell with a loud clutter. His face was frozen in that last expression of surprise as he fought for air. The knife must have fractured his lungs and, if he was lucky, his heart as well. As he stumbled a step back, Hongjoong give him one last push while pulling out his knife, making San fall on his back. Blood spread rapidly on his white shirt, soaking through the fabric in a fascinating pattern.

"Quick, my princess. We need to hide before more enemies appear."

Hongjoong once again grabbed onto your arm. This time he was careful not to take the one that had been injured. Your eyes were on the dark path in front of you again, trying to get rid off the picture of motionless bodies, that were haunting you now.

It wasn't far until your secret quarters from here. After two more turns you reached the tapestry that hid the door to your hideout. Hongjoong retrieved a key from his pocket to open the lock before he rushed you two inside.

When the door closed behind you and he locked it again, you released a deep breath. A wave of exhaustion washed over you and you leaned onto the nearest table for support, feeling dizzy. Hongjoong first closed the curtains before he lit up some candles. But as soon as soon as he faced you again and saw you like this he was by your side.

"Are you okay, my princess?" His pupils were dilated and he still had a wild expression to his face. The fight still clung to him, the adrenaline not yet washed away.

He took your face in his hand gently to examine you as you looked up at him with big eyes. He had never come this close to you before and you were stunned by the proximity. But as if he had read your thoughts Hongjoong suddenly pulled away his hand again, looking at it in shock.

Swallowing deeply Hongjoong looked at you bitterly: "I'm sorry, my princess. I failed to protect you. We should tend to your wounds."

He turned away from you in search of fresh water and some fabric to care for your injury. You were left in astonishment.

"What are you talking about? Without you I would be on my way to enslavement by the Choi's. You saved both of us!" There was anger in your voice.

"You got hurt, so I failed to protect you." Hongjoong didn't face you yet as he picked up a bucket of water. His voice was stern, regret lacing every word.

Finally, he found some pieces of cloth that he could use for cleaning the wound and turned back around to you. The look in his eyes quite nearly broke your heart. You had never seen him so defeated.

"Sit on the bed," he ordered you gently. "We need to clean your wound."

"You look ten times worse than I do, let me help you first," you insisted in a harsh voice. He was bleeding all over his arms and chest and the punch to his face earlier had opened the skin on his elegant cheekbones as well. You couldn't believe that after all that he cared about your shallow little cut in comparison.

"It's my duty to protect you so let me do my job."

"It's your duty to protect me and I need you alive for that and not dying of blood loss."

Hongjoong was standing in front of you now, looking at you with a stern expression. You stared at each other for a prolonged amount of time. But when you realized he wouldn't budge, you sat down on the edge of the bed with a frustrated sigh. He set down the bucket of water next to your feet, the pieces of fabric still in his hand. For a moment he was just looking at you, eyes boring into yours with an expression you couldn't read. But the intensity of it stopped your lungs from breathing.

"Stop keeping me from doing my job, princess," he said suddenly, with a slight teasing sound to his voice.

"It's not your job to die for me just because you refuse to get help," you answered, thinking of all the possible outcomes of the situation earlier this evening. The fear you felt during his fight.

"But I would," Hongjoong replied in a heartbeat. His tone wasn't teasing anymore now. He was completely serious. Holding your eye contact he sank to his knees in front of you. His hair fell into his face as he landed and looked up at you through dark lashes.

"I would die for you."

With those words he took your arm into his hands. Dipping the cloth into the water he finally started cleaning the blood from your skin. His touch was so gentle you felt like fine porcelain. In contrast, his skin was splattered in blood, not all of it even his own. His shirt was cut up in multiple spots and his hair dishevelled.

You didn't realize you were crying until a single tear landed on your arm, mixing with the blood that Hongjoong was still wiping away. He looked up at you in surprise. His hand twitched as if he wanted to wipe away your tears too but decided differently.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"I can't stand seeing you like this," you replied truthfully. "Let me help you too" You sounded pleading now. The desperation even more evident through the tears running down your cheeks.

Hongjoong averted his eyes back to your arm. After a moment of pondering he answered: "Just one more second."

He quickly cleaned up the rest of your blood and bound the cut with a fresh piece of cloth. Then he rose to his feet again. Wiping the remnants of your tears away you also stood up, now shockingly close to Hongjoong in front of you.

Gently you grabbed him by his shoulders and made him sit down on the bed in return. Never before had you realized how beautiful his eyes were until he was looking up at you like he did in that moment. When the intensity of his gaze made your skin burn, you shifted your eyes to his wounds.

"You will need to get rid of your shirt so that I can clean the cuts."

In response he started folding up his sleeves instead. "Only tend to these then," he answered sternly.

"You are bleeding all over and we need to wait out the attack anyway. Let me clean your wounds." Now it was your turn to hold his cheek in your hand. "Please."

His expression softened with the way you held him and looked at him so desperately. He knew he was making a mistake by giving in to his feelings but he still followed your pleads and started unbuttoning his dress shirt. With every button you felt the blush on your cheeks deepening. You hadn't really realized the intimacy of this moment when you insisted on cleaning his wounds. You had only wanted him to heal.

After he discarded the blood-stained shirt to the side, Hongjoong leaned back onto his arms. You couldn't help but let your eyes wander over his exposed body. For once because you were fascinated with the toned muscles beneath his skin. But also because you were terrified by the amount of cuts. Some bigger some smaller, but all of them bleeding over his smooth skin.

"You wanted to help me, didn't you?" Hongjoong suddenly said, the teasing tone returning to his voice by tenfold. Your cheeks grew even hotter as you realized you had stared at him for a little too long.

You picked up a clean piece of cloth and dipped it in the water before you tended to his wounds. Starting on his arm, you soon realized that the injuries seemed endless. On top of that, you had to bend down to him in an uncomfortable position. But kneeling in front of him was not an option for multiple reasons either.

In a fit of confidence you instead settled for a different solution. "Can you move back a little more," you asked Hongjoong matter-of-factly. He looked confused but obeyed to your request anyway.

Before you could regret your decision you then straddled his legs, sitting down on top of them, your long dress splaying over him. Hongjoong's breath hitched for a second before he returned to his usual stern guard appearance, his eyes focussed on a spot in the distance. Only the way his hands gripped onto the sheets until his knuckles turned white still gave away how affected he was by your proximity. You continued working on his cuts as if nothing happened, ignoring the slight tremble of your own hands.

The deepest cut was on Hongjoong's right arm and you bound it immediately so that the bleeding would stop quicker. You then finished cleaning the smaller spots on his chest. At some point you almost forgot that you were touching his bare skin all over.

That was until only the cut on his cheek was left. As you grabbed his face to stabilize your grip, your eyes met. You were closer to him than you had noticed before and your heart skipped a beat as you looked deep into Hongjoong's eyes. Carefully, you started wiping the blood from his cheek. He had such delicate features. You had always thought that his looks didn't match his profession but still he excelled at it. Tonight had only proven that.

When you were done you returned your focus to his eyes. "You're all patched up," you announced in nothing more than a whisper. None of you made an attempt to move even a single inch away from each other even after you threw the bloody cloth beside you.

Hongjoong lifted his hand from behind him, slowly, as if giving you time to react. Then he laid it on top of your fingers, which were still holding onto his unwounded cheek. The touch felt so warm and comforting, yet it drove electricity through your skin.

"Tell me what you want now, my princess," Hongjoong asked you in a low voice that made your insides squirm. He looked at you as if entranced, eyes not being able to stray from yours.

You looked at him through half-lidded eyes, voice straining as you spoke: "You. I want you."

Both of you moved towards each other at the same time and your lips crashed in the middle. Hongjoong's other hand shot up to weave into your hair, pulling you closer into the kiss. The feeling was electrifying. The two of you kissed each other with a desperation that could only come from almost dying earlier this evening.

You had always longed for Hongjoong but now you were dying for him. You wanted every possible centimetre of your bodies to touch and so you pressed yourself even closer to his chest. You couldn't care less if he was bleeding onto your dress or not. He slung his other arm around your waist and pulled you higher up in his lap, obviously sharing the same need.

Parting your lips slightly you allowed Hongjoong's tongue into your mouth. He was skilled with it, making your head swim in cotton. There was nothing on your mind but Hongjoong. All danger was forgotten as his hands held your body tightly. All the hesitation he had shown earlier was lost to his pleasure.

When you ground your hips into him, Hongjoong released a low whine. The sound made you shudder and you felt the desperate desire to hear more sounds from him. Snaking one of your hands behind your back to open the lacing of your dress, Hongjoong stopped your kiss.

His pupils were dilated as he looked at you, lips swollen and wet from the intense kiss. "Are you sure about this, princess?" He had always called you that but his deep tone now made it sound a thousand times better than ever before.

"I've never been so sure about a thing in my life," you replied with a smirk, which Hongjoong reciprocated immediately.

"Then let me take care of this, my darling" he proposed. The new nickname rolled of his tongue so easily but it made your heart flutter tremendously. Seeing him finally break out of his dutiful persona had a weakening effect on you.

He moved his hands behind your back towards the strings of your dress. But you clearly hadn't paid enough attention to his hands as he suddenly cut through all of the lacing at once with his dagger.

A noise of surprise came over your lips as you felt the dress slowly sliding down your body already. Hongjoong marvelled at your expression, a sly smirk resting on his lips. With some of the black strands of hair falling into his face and the candlelight contouring his face he looked so perfect in front of you. You wouldn't ever be able to look at him the same way you did before you had kissed him.

Hongjoong held you by your waist as he got up from the bed. As soon as you were standing, the dress slipped down from your body, pooling at your feet as he continued kissing you. You could only lace your fingers into his dark hair as his head dipped into your neck, placing kisses on the sensitive skin.

"I would love to mark you my darling but I fear that might get us in trouble later," he admitted through a chuckle as his lips travelled over your neck.

"Then do it where people can't see," you replied breathlessly. You wanted him all over you, his lips, his marks, his everything.

Hongjoong pulled back at your words, looking at you with dark eyes. The intensity was similar to when he had attacked San earlier only know his energy was directed towards different purposes.

"Everything my princess desires," he replied, suddenly spinning you around and gently placing you on the bed again.

Before you could say another word he was on top of you, his lips all over your body. Kissing down from your neck towards your exposed breasts, sucking at the skin that was usually carefully hidden benath your dress. He looked up at you through fluttering lashes before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He circled the tender skin gently with his tongue, making you moan beneath him within seconds.

In the meantime his hands kneaded your skin all over from your waist to your hips. When his lips wandered down even farther, your breath turned shallow. He felt intoxicating. There was so much desire and desperation in the way he touched you that you just wanted more and more.

His kisses turned softer and slower as he made his way to your lower stomach. Through those dangerously glinting eyes he looked up at you for approval.

„Please go on, Joong."

He suddenly stopped his movements. "Joong?" he asked with a low chuckle.

Your face reddened as you realized you had called him a nickname by accident.

"I've only kissed you yet and you're already calling me nicknames?" He snickers. "I can't wait to hear more."

With that he removed your underwear. His eyes glistened as he looked at you before him. Glazed in lust like any other emotion was an impossibility to him.

He looked at you one last time before he lowered his lips to you. He started kissing you softly, barely giving you any stimulation. The softness was unexpected to you, not fitting his tough image. But you soon realized that these weren't acts of carefulness but rather his menacing plan to tease you.

As soon as you started to squirm beneath him, trying to get more friction between you and his kitten licks at your core, he held your hips down with a firm grip. Feeling his strength on your own body made you shiver.

"Please, Joong," you beg him for something you can't even put into words but he chuckles in response to your neediness.

"On this bed, you belong to me, my princess. I'm not taking any more orders from you," he said looking up at you with a menacing smile.

A shudder passed through your body at the deep tone of his voice and you had no choice but to give yourself up to his mercy. And nothing had ever felt better to you. Turning off all thought while Hongjoong was pleasuring your cunt in an almost torturous tempo was somehow the most blissful thing you had ever experienced. It made you forget all the panic and anxiety you had felt just minutes ago.

When an overwhelming feeling of heat built up in your lower stomach and your hips desperately tried to grind against Hongjoong's tongue against his relentless grip, he suddenly stopped. He looked up at you through messy strands of black hair hanging in his vision.

"Not yet my princess, I'm only getting started with you."

He got up from the bed only to slowly discard his pants with his eyes still glued onto your figure. As soon as you saw his hardened length you sucked in a breath of air, feeling your heartbeat accelerating. You felt like he was touching you with his intense stare alone before he was back on top of you. His eyes searched for yours and his hand cupped your cheek surprisingly gentle before Hongjoong shared a deep kiss with you.

It was like nothing else existed besides his lips on yours. You had never felt so much longing for a person in your life as you deepened the kiss and pulled him closer by the back of his head. Once you wound your fingers into Hongjoong's hair and pulled on it he groaned into your mouth, sending shockwaves through your body at the sound.

He interrupted the kiss to stare at you with eyes filled with lust, a fire behind his gaze that spread onto you immediately.

"Tell me to stop right now, princess. I know I'm not supposed to have you but I will ruin you for everyone else if I can have you just this once. You will never want anyone else but me, I promise you."

If anything his words only made you want him more: "Please," you pleaded him, voice not more than a whisper. "I'm all yours. I don't want anyone else."

And your words were like gasoline to his fire. His lips were back on yours in a heartbeat and you felt him spreading your legs apart with his knees. Never once breaking the kiss, Hongjoong held his cock and slowly let it glide through your folds, collecting the wetness between your legs and taunting you even more. You were still sensitive from his tongue and whined into his mouth as he continued teasing you like this.

"Please, Joong," you whined in between kisses. "I want you so bad."

He chuckled into the kiss but actually listened to you as he finally lined himself up with your core.

"So eager, my darling," he teased you, breaking from the kiss only to watch your reaction to him finally pushing into you. As soon as his tip entered you, your eyes fluttered shut and a low moan left your mouth.

A content smile spread on Hongjoong's face as he watched your brows draw together once he bottomed out. You felt so good around him, so hot and tight.

His thrusts started out slow but harsh and with every jolt you felt him hit a spot deep inside you, you didn't even know existed. Once one of his hands started caressing your breast, thumb rolling over your hardened nipple, you opened your eyes again to watch him.

Hongjoong looked ethereal. His delicate features barely illuminated by the candles, eyes darkened by lust and his black hair moving in time with his thrusts, the visual alone almost made you come.

"Having fun, my darling?" he asked tauntingly with a particularly harsh thrust that made you gasp. "You look so pretty moaning on my cock like that."

You felt like choking from his filthy words. Your head guard was usually not the chattiest person apart from his occasional teasing remarks towards you. Having him talk to you like that made your legs soften in the best way possible.

Knowing he had you exactly where he wanted you, he sped up his pace, increasing your moans that you were desperately trying to hold back.

"Can't even talk anymore? You don't know how long I've been wanting you to shut up on my cock like this."

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you could feel the heat in your stomach building up fast. Hongjoong felt you tightening around him and was determined to make you finish. His hand wandered down from your breast to your core and with two fingers he started drawing circles into your clit while continuing his menacing pace.

Your hands grabbed onto his underarms in response, nails digging into his skin as you felt your orgasm approaching quickly. He knew exactly what would drive you there and finished you off with his words alone:

"Let go for me, my darling. Come on my cock."

And just with that a wave of pleasure rushed over you, breath being knocked out of your lungs. You felt like fighting for oxygen as you calmed down from your high and Hongjoong whispered praises into your ear:

"Such a good girl for me. That's my pretty princess."

When he felt like you had recovered enough, Hongjoong pulled out of you carefully and settled on the edge of bed, sitting down. With a menacing glance over his shoulder he beckoned you to come closer to him.

"Get on top of me, princess. You were so eager to do that earlier I feel like I should show you what you deserve for being so needy."

When you got up from the bed to straddle him, your legs almost gave in from being so weak after your high. Hongjoong's hand latched onto your hip to steady you as he slowly pulled you onto him.

"Slowly, my darling. Don't want you fainting on me now when I'm not even done with you."

Knees safely situated on the bed next to his hips, you hovered your core over his member. Your faces were so close that your noses touched as you devoured each other with your eyes alone.

You slowly sank down onto his length while holding eye contact with him the entire time. It was the first time you saw him getting a little weak as his eyes fluttered and a small grunt came from the back of his throat.

You wanted to hold onto his shoulders for support, to move on top of him but his body was littered in cuts, that you didn't want to touch. Hongjoong felt your hesitation and let his hands glide over yours, gently placing them on both sides of his face. You felt like you were holding the stars in your hands with the way his eyes sparkled up at yours. It wasn't just desire speaking from them now but something else too as his arms snaked around your waist.

"Let me make you mine, princess."

With his words he gently lifted your body and let it drop down, burying his cock deep within your walls. One of your hands wound into his hair again, keeping you grounded by slightly pulling on his strands.

He fucked you by lifting you up and down his cock like you weighed nothing in his hands. You already felt like coming undone again as you once again pulled him into a kiss. This time he was moaning into your mouth as well, the low vibrations going straight to your core.

You couldn't hold yourself back anymore from moving on top of him too. As you moved up and down his length Hongjoong let his head fall back into his neck in bless.

"You're killing me, princess."

"I thought you would die for me?" you asked back teasingly.

Hongjoong's eyes glinted at your words. "Well that's not how I meant that."

Using his legs he suddenly thrust himself up into you from below and you knew you wouldn't last long like that. His hands digging into your skin and his cock so deep inside you you felt the pressure in your core once again tightening.

"Can you come for me one more time, princess?" Hongjoong asked you with a strained voice. Judging by his clenched jaw you could tell he was close too.

"Yes, please," you begged him and somehow he managed to speed up his tempo just a little more.

Once the orgasm hit you, you couldn't help but let your head drop into the crook of his neck, moaning into his soft skin as he continued thrusting into you. His name tumbled from your lips over and over again making him feel intoxicated of the sweet sound.

"I'm close, princess," he groaned into your ear, thrusts faltering.

"Please let me finish you," you begged him.

"God, please," was all he could answer and you got off of his lap, kneeling down between his legs instead.

You grabbed onto his length, gently stroking him while your tongue lapped at his tip. Your eyes raked over his body marvelling in the way his abs tensed under your touch and his breath came in short gasps. When you finally took him into your mouth as far as you could, Hongjoong spilled his hot seed deep into your throat. His hands wanted so badly to pull you farther onto his cock but he grabbed onto the bedsheets in desperation instead as he came undone.

You moaned as you felt the liquid trickling down your throat and the vibration only heightened his pleasure as his cock twitched inside of you. You sucked him dry before swallowing all of his come with a dazed look on your eyes.

Hongjoong felt like he was in a dream, watching the one person he had always longed for devour him so passionately. He gently lifted you up from the ground only to lay you back on the bed. He held your body like it was the most fragile thing in the world, cradling your head to his chest and stroking your hair gently.

The sudden softness almost brought you to tears. You had never felt this cared for in your life.

"Joong?" you softly called him and he looked down at you, releasing the grip on your hair so you could face him.

"What is it, my princess?"

"I don't want you just tonight."

A flicker of confusion passed over his handsome features. You laid your hand on his cheek, stroking the soft skin.

"I was the one to pick you as my head guardian," you spoke softly, the memory of it still vivid in your mind. You had kept this information a secret until now, carefully stored in the back of your head but now it was begging to be let out. "Ever since you had joined the royal guard I've had a crush on you so I begged my father to make you my head guardian, telling him I didn't trust anyone else but you."

Hongjoong's eyes widened in surprise. He had always thought he got lucky with such an honoured position. He had never imagined you out of all people wanting him to be so close to you. Yet he couldn't quite grasp the gravity of your words.

"What do you mean? You can't be with a guard." He was thinking rationally. All this time he knew there was no way for him to ever have you but now you gave him hope that he didn't want to allow himself just yet.

"It is only a matter of time before my father passes and I become queen. And as the queen I can do whatever I please."

Hongjoong slowly shook his head, disbelieve evident on his face. But you went on:

"I can't imagine anyone else by my side than the one I trust the most, Hongjoong. And even if you don't love me back I want you to be at my side when I need to run this kingdom."

He stared at you for a second, mind running crazy at your words. You wanted him. Out of everything in the world that could be yours you wanted him.

"Who says I don't love you back?" was what he finally replied with the tiniest hint of a smile playing around the corner of his lips.

This time your eyes widened in surprise. "But you were always annoyed by me?" you answered in slight confusion.

Your response made him chuckle and stroke your cheek affectionately. "Darling, that was me trying really hard not to fall for you even more than I already did."

There it was again, that look in his eyes that felt like he was watching the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. It rendered you completely speechless.

"I'll always be by your side, my princess. I'll worship you until the day I die."

And with that he pulled you in for another kiss. You felt a tear run down your cheek as you desperately latched onto his lips. You would never let go of him again.

This entire thing was single-handedly inspired by Hongjoong falling to his knees in Inception which says a lot about my mental health if you ask me but okay.

I hope you enjoyed even if it was different from my usual settings/plots!

Taglist: @voicesinmyhead-rc @yoonjikim

#ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #beginningofwonderland #smut fanfic #ateez fanfiction #hongjoong smut #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x y/n #hongjoong x you

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allforreading-fandomthings · 17 days ago

Note

Sorry to jump in, but I would like to add my two cents as someone who has a degree in Psychology and has studied cults and Scientology in general for years.

It does not surprise me that Tom joined, it doesn't surprise me that Miscaviege was, as someone pointed out, obsessed with Tom nor does it surprise me that people still believe everything they hear when it comes to him and the cult.

First things first, the point about him being a good target is very accurate and I do wonder if the anon that sent it is also a psychologist, but Tom was indeed a good target. There are multiple reasons for that - he was young (fact number one which accounts for most people who join cults, according to research done on former cult survivors, most cult members join from the age of 16 to 25 years old).

The person that introduced him was his first wife, who was older than him which marks point two in the trifecta: cult members are more likely to join if there's someone they know (friend or family member) already inside the cult.

From what I have seen of Tom, he seems to have a curious nature about him, and I understand why he was perceived as naive because even to this day, his wide eye nature and behavior does make him come across as such. What I am about to say might give readers the heebjeebs, so proceed with caution.

Tom does have this posture about him that makes him extremely attractive to men like Miscaviege. Cult leaders and serial killers and predators have something in common - they can sense who is going to be easier to control. Is like an antenna of evil that allows them to sense vulnerability and to explore it.

Cult leaders survive on that, they thrive in sensing perceived weakness and exploiting it.

Tom has that - to be honest he still does. I see it because is my job to see it, and for all the talks of people thinking he's a psychopath and a narcissist, if you spend even five minutes hearing him talk you'll see he is just a man deeply consumed by things that have happened to him.

I think it is important to explain why Miscaviege had such a deep fascination for Tom. Because Tom was exactly the kind of person they needed it: young, extremely attractive, he had the boy next door child like posture, and he was starting to become famous in Hollywood. Not only that, Tom's issues with his father made him very prone to look for other men in his life for guidance.

His curiosity, his need to learn about people and talking to them- while great attributes, also meant he was even more susceptible to Miscaviege because one common trait between cult members is that most of them are curios and don't seem to have preconceived notions over certain religions. Tom's thirst for knowledge, him being neurodivergent, him being young and naive all play a huge role in how Miscaviege would perceive him.

There is a reason he was chosen as the face of the cult when we have so many other celebrities. It was because Miscaviege would be extremely close to him, and like the other person said, that fact has always made me extremely uncomfortable especially because I understand how Miscaviege operated, for better or for worse.

The comment of Tom's innocence is why he was attractive to him, it is because of his nature that Miscaviege grew close to him to an extent we rarely saw with other church members. And yes, it grew from that to forms of abuse, like coercive control, surveillance, stalking, verbal and psychological abuse (that we know off).

What concerns me the most and always have, is that Tom was one of the first batches of people that joined Scientology, when again, he was extremely young. He had to audition like everyone else (which means sharing his secrets), but this tells me that Miscaviege's forms of psychological and other forms of abuse were, most likely, also used on him.

Is just a psychological fact. In that universe where he was trying to grow his church, must cult leaders won't start out by differentiating between members, they are actually more likely to make their most famous members examples to the newer ones.

And the fact that Tom has always been one of his favorites also puts him at higher risk, because the power dynamic becomes even more intense in these cases, he's my favorite therefore he's mine. And if he's mine and he doesn't do as I wish, he has to pay for it. There is a sense of ownership, of control, of taken between leaders and certain church members they're closer to that almost becomes symbiotic.

Think of the church leader as the Messiah, the messiah often has a right hand man. The same way an abuse survivor might create a bond with their abuser, he was very likely to have created a bond with Miscaviege as well (and I am trying not to speculate on the extent of abuse he went through). Those bonds are incredibly hard to break, they can get to a point where a cult survivor might perceive anyone else as a threat to their Messiah.

There is a reason Jim Jones talked hundreds into committing suic*de. There is a reason why Waco siege happened. It is not by accident and if we, as a society, forget about it, we are going to make the same mistake again.

Scientology was not a sexual cult like NXIVM. Sexual cults are a different beast all together.

Scientology is and has always been a religious cult, the reason they have lasted as long as they have is because a lot perceive as religion and not a cult and because survivors are mocked for falling for it.

But Scientology is just as dangerous as any other cult, and we don't know half of what was done to Tom Cruise by them. We know he has tried to leave and they managed to keep him from doing so by turning someone he trusted into a spy.

It will take years and multiple studies for us to be able to comprehend the reach cults have and how they truly operate, but we absolutely cannot and should not act as if Tom wasn't, at any point, one of their high profile victims.

His relationship with Miscaviege has always gave me shivers because I understand the nuances of how that worked and how must have affected him while his brain was still developing.

Thanks for your two cents, anon!

#tom cruise #scientology #psychology

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thegoldengoddd · 8 days ago

Text

hi Tumblr nation I'm here to share how normal I am about this scum of the earth!!

Disclaimers:

This is MY analysis, nothing I'm saying is confirmed exactly by RCG, but a lot is implied

this post contains spoilers, in case you haven't watched it all (this was posted before s17)

I'm not a Dennis defender, if I met this dude irl I'd make sure he suffers

I'm not a psychologist, I'm 15, keep that in mind

Okay so I'm gonna base this little yap around Dennis' mommy and daddy issues because I believe they form a VERY crucial part of his personality in the show... I believe his parent problems had two very contradicting effects on Dennis—

the need to prove himself as powerful

the internal desire to be held and adored

And these two so deeply contradicting points drive the man absolutely crazy.

We all know Dennis' character by now— selfish, dominating, power-hungry, just a straight up evil asshole all around — but, and very obviously, that's an exterior to cover up his true feelings and I can almost guarantee this because we HAVE seen him crack before! Here are some examples, and why they relate to the context of his issues

1 — God Hole

" I know that what's important to you is money and power, but I don't want real power! Because with real power comes real responsibility and I don't want any of that shit! I just want the money. The illusion of power"

So it's established that there's more than his commonly known exterior, that's surface level. I mainly want to go into the idea of his defensive nature. Dennis seems to determine his worth by how much power he feels. He wants something to make him SEEM powerful without the responsibility that comes with power, which brings me to my query that Dennis built up an unhealthy defense mechanism to protect himself from rejection and disapproval from others as he is a very sensitive person with "big feelings". Frank was TERRIBLE to Dennis and Dee. I believe Dennis' defense mechanism was picked up from incidents like Christmas days where Frank would get their hopes up just for them to find out they got nothing for Christmas. His daddy issues probably caused this and the fact that in this scene Dennis is talking TO FRANK makes me quite frankly very upset

“I need somethin’. I mean I got this giant gaping hole inside me. And I’m always tryin’ to fill it with somethin’. I like to call it my God Hole. And I think a lot of people in this world, they fill it with religion. But I don’t believe in God.”

In relation to his mommy issues, frank did state that Dennis and Dee were raised by "a series of mexican women", referring to nannies, presumably. So it's safe to assume that Dennis never had a prominent mother figure in his life. That "gaping hole" inside him probably formed from childhood. (considering by the second grade he was logging Dee's behaviour...) Anyways, without a consistent mother figure in your life, you may end up feeling the need to impress every single woman you meet in later life because picking up on childhood habits in later life is ever so common! This could explain a lot about Dennis' God hole, and his need for the illusion of approval (or what he describes as power) from women. It's also prominent in EVERYTHING Dennis does. He seems to only get on with the gang because they're all dumber than him so he stays because in that case he can feel superior and as though he's worth it — as he determines his worth by how much power he has. He manipulates every woman he finds (The D.E.N.N.I.S system), and he's SO SURE of himself. these are all general characteristics that could be blamed on his lack of a single mother figure in his life growing up.

2— Valentines Day (big feelings)

Probably the most prominent scene for ALL Dennis fans...

"I hate Valentine's Day because you assholes never got me anything! Okay, and I have feelings! Of course I have feelings! I have big feelings, okay? And it hurts."

Moments of vulnerability like this do infer that he's CONSTANTLY hiding, gaslighting himself to the point of delusion on a usual basis because he is absolutely convinced that vulnerability is weakness and what's one of the main points of this analysis? he needs to prove himself as powerful. Beyond surface level delusion, though, he feels deeply about how much the gang, those closest to him, like him. He wants the approval of the gang and this scene does make that abundantly clear. Point? This probably began whilst chasing his parents' affection, especially considering Frank is IN THE GANG

Now, the factor of Valentine's day in itself. His romance issues are absolutely devastating and he's a horrible person because of it. He developed a habit of one night stands that may have stemmed from his childhood, all the different women that raised him distorted his view of what a woman in his life should be, turning him extremely misogynistic and dominating over them. Frank and Barbara themselves didn't help this case, Dennis never saw a loving couple growing up, just women working for the man (Frank). It's a possibility he hates Valentine's day too because he knows about his refusal to accept love when handed to him on a silver platter. All Mac seems to do is prove his care for Dennis— Dennis simply cannot fathom it. He hates Valentine's day because of his defense mechanism that HE put up, but he'd rather simply suffer than drop the barrier. He feels his avoidant nature is safer than showing vulnerability, though. So he's in a constant battle with himself over what he truly wants.

3— Brian Jr

"I can't do any of this shit anymore. Okay, I'm leaving. I'm gonna go be a dad."

Dennis' desire for normalcy is something that's prominent in most episodes actually, he always seems to be the one telling the gang to stop acting weird and crazy and whatnot. It's even more evident in this scene. Considering the context, he couldn't see the abandonment of his son as a "successful mission". I feel like he's been atta connection ched to the gang because they're the only ones that can even remotely tolerate him, but as people, he's unlike anyone else in the gang, except for maybe Dee, but they're siblings so they'd probably stay in contact regardless of the gang's existence. Not sure if I'm rambling bullshit here but if you get it, you get it... Anyway this links AGAIN to Dennis' craving for connection, something to fill that "god hole".

"Because I don't want my kid to grow up like I did. With some asshole dad who was never even around."

He's well aware he's not right in the head (God hole for further proof), yet usually he'll reject confrontation in relation to it (defense mechanism). Now this is a slight off topic but there's always the common misconception that Dennis is a psychopath — this isn't true... and it's annoying whenever someone characterizes him like this. he's a sociopath. He feels STRONGLY, and if he didn't feel strongly, he wouldn't have given a shit about the outcome of his son. Okay now that's cleared up, back to the main point. He still has a resentment towards Frank. Dennis CLEARLY noticed his behaviours of selfish rejection towards his son and saw himself in Brian Jr. "Dennis' Double Life" is one of the best examples of Dennis' insecurity and resentment in terms of his childhood and that grudge is obviously still prominent in his adult life.

4— "The Gang Saves The Day"

No quote for this, Dennis' whole fantasy was absolutely insane material for me to work with. So, I'll break down the scenario for anyone that either has no clue what I'm on about, or simply just forgot.

the gang gets caught up in an armed robbery and the viewer gets to see each character's fantasy on what they'd do to a) stop the robbery and b) what they'd do after. Now, keep in mind this is what they WANT. Dennis wants the following:

to be shot in the head, but not kill him

wake up in hospital absolutely dumb as fuck because of brain damage

Jackie Denardo to BABY him, and nurse him back to health. I'm talking spoon feeding and praise and shit

now, Jackie Denardo was previously mentioned in the episode "The Storm Of The Century". Dennis was absolutely INFATUATED by Jackie.

Do I even have to explain the all so clear mommy issues there? He wants a woman he's attracted to to absolutely baby the fuck out of him and tell him how well he's doing. Dennis would never outwardly admit that's what he wants. It certainly wasn't his attitude towards her in "The Storm Of The Century" This is simply his internal telling him that he wants this. Anyway if it's so clear in that scene that he's looking to be nurtured by women that could explain his behaviours with any woman he's met. Mama didn't give him that love and he NEVER grew up, he's immature. I don't think I need to explain this one further

5— The S.I.N.N.E.D system

The S.I.N.N.E.D system is Dennis' foolproof plan to attract a man— the reverse of the D.E.N.N.I.S system. And now, I'm a bi Dennis truther however I'd like to bring up another point — projection.

The system goes as followed:

S— Suppress your instincts

I— Inflate his ego

N—Need his power

N— Negate his power

E— Engage physically

D— Do you need a tissue?

And oh boy, do I have some things to say about the projection involved here. More evidence before my main point to prove this is a projection and I'm not delusional — "need his power" what's his favourite thing to have? the illusion of power. "engage physically", well, he loves that shit! Just 2 examples, anyway—

"Do you need a tissue?" refers to the act of asking a man this in relation to, say, dropping a piece of food on himself, or if he has mucus visible on his nose. Dennis explains this will embarrass him, and make him feel inclined to let you help him... Combine his secret desire to be nurtured and spoon fed (as in point 4), Dennis CLEARLY. CLEARLYYYY wants that. He wants to be taken care of, but now leading back to my original point— His. Defense. Mechanism. Drives. Him. Crazy.

CONCLUSION!!!!

This asshole is soooo pathetic and a bitch and I hate him and I want to deep fry him actually what an asshole ugh he disgusts me jhhhdhjdjsjskakAAAAAA

All of this is just for fun, again, I'm not a professional and I'm just making theories!

oh and sorry if I said anything that didn't make sense... never done an analysis like this and also sorry if all of this was obvious and surface level I just needed an excuse to yap haha...

#dennis reynolds #its always sunny in philadelphia #Glenn Howerton #dennis reynolds analysis #analysis #am i making sense #oh my god im not normal about this fuck #i hate him #iasip #always sunny

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tellmeallaboutit · 1 year ago

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what is the deal with Hope?

All I know of her is the "cRaZy LaDy" you can ally with in the House of Hope level. Does she have any extra details to her story besides being Raphael's prisoner and Korrilla's sister? (in your opinion, if not in canon!)

Holy moly, Hope is something quite complicated indeed. Hope, first of all, is a product of scrapped original writing / creative redirections / House of Hope re-makings.

It’s extremely hard to analyze her because there are mixed signals in all possible directions. I’ll give the main three. All IMHO / headcanon.

1. Hope as a Concept / Poetical Allegory

Probably the original intention. Hope as some incorruptible entity, a concept, that Raphael stole and tried to destroy as a long-winded poetic metaphor and failed to do so.

2. Hope as a person

Hope is also a real dwarven cleric and the sister of Korilla. So, in this version, at one point Raphael thought “oh, neat name, so metaphorical, wanna serve me?”, Hope was like “nope, get fucked”, and then the only logical course of action for a lawful evil character was to throw respect for consent and rules out of the window, kidnap her, chain her in his basement, threaten her, torture her, subject her to some form of sexual assault (unclear what happened there or who did that, but something that deeply unsettled Hope and caused her to describe sexual acts she witnessed in a very disturbing manner).

Yeah, don’t ask me. I am pretty sure that goes against anything devils are supposed to stand for with actual trickery and seduction and gradual corruption. I guess the thought there was “devils only pretend to care about consent and be civil but look at what this guy is doing behind closed doors”. Behind closed doors, he threatens to drench a kidnapped girl in the intestines of a kid. Very edgelordy, Raph.

3. Hope as a romantic / sexual interest

At one point of development, it seemed like there was a sexual connotation in their relationship aka he wanted her as a woman aka an actual sexual creep locking an unwilling woman in his basement.

Clues: “taming hope” with lines like “he looks at her with such hatred and longing”, and also data-mined taming hope volume 3 where she actually refers to him as "flaccid horned-fuck" and his maggoty tongue in her ear, Raphael referring to himself as a hopeless romantic. The “hope ahaha such a tease” line also seems sexual as such context. I think the boudoir line (where Hope says she has been there, but not on her own will) was created during this stage, and then in act 3 chaos it was just left there because why not.

All in all, Hope writing is indeed a hot mess. She was supposed to symbolize how predatory, corrupt and rotten inside Raphael is, but the delivery of this story was rehashed so many times it fell really flat. I like the general idea of Hope, I think it could have been great, but the execution fell on the nose and is still lying there whimpering. I think my personal main take away from Hope story that Raph is obsessive, doesn’t really give a shit about consent (only on a extremely formal put your signature here or die level) and has strong yandere vibes.

Thank you for your ask ❤️

#bg3 raphael #bg3 #raphael bg3 #hope #bg3 critical #asks #raphael the cambion #my horrible takes #hope bg3

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freakystrashdump · 7 months ago

Text

🔮The Oracle Bakery🔮

Emperor Belos|Phillip Wittebane/OC

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

Read on AO3

previous chapter | START | next chapter

Chapter 18: Calm before the Storm

She was going to open up the bakery that morning. Honest she was. Selena went to bed earlier, right after she set up the bakery kitchen last night. Giving it a thorough clean and organising anything that was out of place. She mopped the floors in the shop and wiped down the counters, cleaned up any stray crumbs in the display window. The entire shebang.

But her bed the next morning just felt so soft and warm , that getting out of it felt like an impossible task all together.

Truly, it was times like this that perfectly showed off that she was still, in fact, a bit of a spoiled brat at heart.

“Leave me aloooone.” She whined as Pip pulled at strands of her hair, attempting to get her out of bed “I was nearly dead, I can take another day off if I wanted to.” As her palisman spoke with a beak full of hair, she scoffed “I am entitled to it! The Emperor said so!” She finished in a mocking tone.

The crow responded in kind, and his response made the woman scowl deeply. With a final groan, Selena sat up and raised her arm, summoning Pip to it and gently persuading him to turn into staff form.

“There! I'm up!” running her free hand through the mess that was her bed hair, she let out a big yawn. “But I'm still not opening today. There,I compromised.” she tapped the staff against the night table nearby, as a reprimand for forcing her to get up.

One more chill day, she could afford that. Honestly, she could take months off and not go under - Rich family privileges come in handy sometimes.

But, and she grumbled under her breath at the thought, she compromised. Because she was the bigger person, of course! Not because Pip was throwing out some wild accusations about her attachment to the Emperor, and in making said compromise she was proving his accusations wrong, oh no. Not at all, never because of that. And part of that compromise was actually getting out of bed and putting on clothes that weren't pyjamas - after forcing herself through a shower and the strenuous task of detangling the mess that was her hair.

With staff-Pip still in her safe hands, refreshed and presentable, Selena made her way down into the bakery, deciding that maybe spending all her free time only in the apartment was a bit of a shut-in type of behaviour. Sure, she cleaned the downstairs and kitchen last night when she still was optimistic about opening shop today, but that task took maybe 15 minutes with magic. No way was she scrubbing things down manually, she was a witch, after all. However, she could probably invest some time into cleaning out the one drawer that was overwhelmed with knicknacks she tended to just throw in whenever she came in.

Nodding decisively, she walked behind the counter and got to work on the junk drawer.

It was less than ten minutes later that she finally emptied it out fully, the counter now filled with enchanted gems, candles, bundles of herbs for potions, a couple of hand-held scrying mirrors, a small crystal ball, an altar tablecloth she thought she had lost and a tarot deck she hadn't seen in almost a year. There was also a tangled mess of scrying pendants, evil eye charms and illusionist stone necklaces. That one was gonna take some time to detangle, so she set it aside for later, instead focusing on wiping down the drawer (it was absolutely filthy, the cloth came out covered with gunk), and placing the items back in, but in a more orderly fashion. She saved some of the things to take upstairs, and the tangled mess was gonna be something she worked on later, however she did take the tarot deck with her once she finished up, going to one of the comfy couches inside and taking a seat.

“I was wondering where you went.” Selena muttered as she absentmindedly shuffled the deck. “I was gonna use you the first time the Emperor's Coven came to take me to the palace, but I guess the drawer was too cluttered for me to find anything but the one illusionist stone to hide what a mess I was.” She huffed a little laugh through her nose as she spoke.

At the memory, Selena let out a deep sigh, moving sideways and letting herself fall onto the couch, the deck placed on her chest as she stared up at the ceiling from where she lay.

“Everything has been an absolute mess since then, hasn't it?” She continued talking to the cards, holding her hand securely over them, pressed above her beating heart “Maybe gran was right, maybe I wouldn't be in this deep if I spent more time doing divinations. Prepare myself for possible outcomes and all that.” She hummed to herself, fingers now tapping against the deck.

“What do you think?” She asked, eyes scanning the ceiling above, finding patterns where there were none.

Selena felt herself grow calm, fingers moved from tapping a steady rhythm to tracing unknown patterns onto the back of the deck, and she let her eyes close. She steadied her breathing, feeling the air flow in and fill her lungs, expanding her chest. She held it in, let it linger, before slowly exhaling, the cards lowering along with her ribcage.

In, and out. And in, and out.

The feeling of weightlessness overtook her for a moment, head feeling light, and her mind emptied. Whatever tension she had in her muscles, it released, the little wrinkles in her expression, the slight furrow of her brow, it all straightened out, as calm overtook her. The sounds of the street outside became softer, drowning out completely until all sound that filled her ears was her breathing and the rhythmic rushing of her own blood. Her index finger continued tracing patterns on the cards, not forming a circle, not quite.

What to do? What to think? What will happen? What should she know? So many questions to ask, but none crystallised fully in her mind.

Selena suddenly felt her head tingle, starting behind her eyes, spreading all the way to the back of her head, and finally a thought filled her mind, clear and loud like a bell.

Gold. Gold in his mask, gold in his hair. And his eyes, bluer than anything she has ever seen, blue eyes burning into her from mindscape.

Belos

Her finger, as the thought of him invaded her meditative state, closed the circle, magic flowing from it and into the deck. The cards started to glow a dimmed purple, spinning in place, each card turning on its own accord but all following the same centre axis, before finally stilling and expelling one single card out of its midst.

As the card flew out, hanging out clear for the picking from the deck, so too did Selena's eyes snap open, the controlled breathing being interrupted by a gasp for air as she woke from the trance she was in. She took a couple of seconds to steady her breathing again, letting her mind adjust to the return back to the physical world.

And she picked the expelled card fully out of the deck, bringing it up for inspection.

Only for her entire face to twist in shock and outrage, the appalled gasp so loud it practically ejected her to her feet. Which sent the tarot cards that were resting on her chest flying everywhere.

“Wha- what do you mean ?! Is this a joke? Are you having a laugh?!” Selena hissed, face turning red “Upright Ace of Cups, you can not be serious right now!”

The Cups. The minor arcana suit. Water pure and crisp, flowing from abundant gold chalices, the ruling element of the suit was, to no one's surprise, water. And as such, the suit was connected strongly to intuition, emotion, and relationships.

The Ace of Cups, in particular, showing a chalice overflowing, five streams like waterfalls sprouting from its confines, a dove flying in from above to bless the abundant chalice with the gift of coin. It is a card that would, in normal circumstances, bring good tidings. Emotional fulfilment, opening up, happiness, spiritual growth, all flowing in abundance. As well as new beginnings, new relationships, true love.

However, in her circumstances, when she was searching for advice on the Emperor…

Selena held out her free hand “Is this a joke to you?!” she stomped her foot in anger, and the cards that were scattered on the floor twitched, a dim glow sparkling shortly in them as they reacted to her magic. Only one, however, started floating in mid air, still glowing, and it flew into her outstretched hand. Selena looked at it and let out an irritated scream “I am not in denial !”

Two of Swords. The suit of Swords being connected to air, it is the communicator, giving sharp, clear messages. It is logic, clear and transparent, it is knowledge and it is clarity. And the Two of Swords, as it so happens, presents a blindfolded woman, with two swords in her hands pointing in different, opposing directions. She is unable to perceive the problem, and she can not perceive the solution either, she has no clarity nor understanding. The swords give the impression of her being pulled in two different directions, of being forced to make a choice.

It marks the feeling of being pulled in two. Of being stuck in the middle, and difficult choices being forced upon you. Of something being hidden from you, whether by choice of others, or by ignorance of your own self.

And like the woman in the card, Selena got the clear message. She is willingly blinding herself, ignoring the problems before her. Connecting to her rant earlier, the card was telling her you are in denial .

“I don’t have to listen to this- this rubbish!” Selena huffed, arguing with the cards in her hands. “Maybe this is why you were banished to the trash drawer in the first place, because you’re chock full of it!” she continued her rant, now directing it to the rest of the cards scattered on the floor “Stupid, this is so stupid! Love? A blossoming relationship? And I’m the one who is blind?! I should throw you into the kitchen’s hearth! In fact, you can take those readings and shove them right up your-”

Before she could throw the two offending cards on the ground along with their fallen brethren, she was interrupted by a sharp knock on the bakery doors. The sudden sound took Selena fully by surprise, actually making her jump and withdraw her arms to her chest protectively, a little ‘eep’ escaping her. Selena’s head snapped towards the door, eyes squinting as the adrenaline waned off, and it took her a moment or two to recognise who was standing out there. Eyes widening, she made a half-jog towards the doors, letting the visitor in.

“Steve, what brings you here?” she asked, ushering the man in “I’m not open yet.”

“No, I know that, I just-” Steve started casually, but was cut off mid sentence when he saw the tarot cards littering the floor “Woah, what happened here? Bad reading or something?”

“Something like that.” Selena muttered under her breath and spun a spell. The cards flew into the air, pirouetting above her and Steve and, one by one, landing in a neat deck on her open palm. Giving them one last glare, Selena went to put them back into the “junk drawer”. Once she did, she straightened out her clothes and ran a hand through her hair, an attempt to make herself look more presentable, before smiling at Steve “So? What brings you around these parts?” the smile widened into a grin “Did the Emperor send you to drag me back from my impromptu vacation?”

“No, well uh, yes, but not like that.” Steve, realising he was tripping over his words in a very un-cool way, cleared his throat “Mostly, I wanted to see how you’re doing.”

“Well aren’t you sweet?” she said “As you can see, coven head Hettie did a fantastic job, and along with the help of coven head Vitimir’s potions, I am fit as can be!” she playfully flexed her arm “Watch out so you don’t get on my bad side, Tholomule!”

“Woah, put those guns away!” the scout joked, putting his hands up in front of him defensively “Steve is intimidated!”

This felt nice. Just laughing with Steve, he always is such a cool guy to be around, Selena thought. Darius is intimidating, and seems to enjoy making her angry. She still felt out of sorts with the residents of the Owl House, they’re way too cool for her to feel this relaxed around them. Katya was fun to be around, sure, but with how often she had been away lately due to her bard mentoring, it was getting lonely.

And Belos. Well, she’d rather not get into that pile of worms.

Clearing his throat, Steve spoke “And as for the Emperor, he did send me, wanting to inquire about your condition. But I would have come either way.” Selena let out a soft affirming hum, prompting him to continue “Emperor Belos wanted to know how you felt, and when you would be back to making deliveries.”

“Does he now?”

Nodding, Steve took out an envelope from under his cloak “He also wanted me to inform you that, as soon as you feel up to the task, that he’d like to switch deliveries from morning to afternoons. Specifically, after you close up shop.”

Selena wrinkled her nose at this “Any reason as to why?”

“Something about not imposing on your business hours.” he offered the envelope to her “In any case, he wanted me to deliver this to you.”

Fingers gently took the expensive paper, brushing over the royal seal as soon as it was safely in her hands. “Oh, this looks very formal. How exciting!” Selena let out a little laugh through her nose, words somewhere between mocking and sincere. A very weird combination, yet somehow she achieved it.

It was very fine stationery indeed. The paper of the envelope was nice and finely pressed, her full name embossed in the back with gold lettering. The royal seal at the front was done in red wax, the silhouette of the Emperor’s coven sigil embedded neatly. She hated to break such a pretty seal, but alas, there was no other choice. It cracked so nicely under her fingers, with a satisfying snap , and she took the letter out, unfolding the paper, her eyes quickly flying over the words

My Dearest, Selena;

I hope you are doing well. Your company has been dearly missed during my mornings. I am eagerly awaiting for your return, once you have made a full recovery.

As for my order once that day arrives, I leave that fully up to your imagination. So far, your judgement when it comes to the matters of pastries has never been wrong.

I, however, need nothing more than your delightful presence.

Sincerely, your dear friend;

Emperor Belos

As Selena read the letter, Steve took notice that it was taking her a while. Maybe the letter was longer than he expected? Or what if she was a slow reader, you never know. He watched carefully as her eyes flew over the lines of text, over and over, then resetting back to the top, all the while bringing the letter closer to her face, as if doing that would somehow change what was written.

He couldn't really place her expression. Was she outraged? Embarrassed? Flustered? Steve could not tell, especially after she brought the paper so close to her face he could barely make out her features anymore.

“Uhh, Sele-”

He was interrupted by Selena ripping her face away from the letter, face straining as she tried to school it back into a more neutral reaction “Well!” She boomed, before clearing her throat “What a sweet letter, how… nice of the Emperor to keep me in his thoughts!”

Steve wondered if she was going to accidentally rip the paper, what with how tightly she clenched it.

“Would you care for some human muffins?” Selena asked, her focus on the letter as she carefully folded it and put it back in the envelope, then placed it in a pocket on her skirt “I have a lot of test batches I have to do away with, couldn't possibly eat all of them alone.”

“Why not, I would if I were you.”

Her nose wrinkled a bit as she smiled “That would be a serious danger to my waistline.”

~*~*~*~*~

My Dearest, Selena

With a coma. After dearest. He wrote “My dearest ,” pause “Selena.”

Selena, after bidding her farewell to Steve, had spent the better part of the morning pacing in circles whilst she worked on detangling the bundle of necklaces and charms she found earlier, interjected only by throwing herself onto her bed in frustration, before bouncing back up and repeating the cycle.

“What does he mean, My Dearest?!” she huffed, glaring hotly at the tangled mess in her hands. “Did he do it by accident, or did he intend it?” She paused in her pacing, one hand running through her hair “He couldn't have. Right?” She looked at Pip, who had been observing this weird breakdown she was having with both interest and worry.

The lack of any helpful answer from Pip left the witch huffing and puffing with frustration. With a final groan, she threw herself into the peacock chair positioned near the rose window, slumping in it with very little grace. In front of the chair, a matching rattan coffee table, and on it was the letter (and its accompanying envelope) which was giving her such a hard time.

“And this-” Selena threw the tangled necklaces and charms on to the table next to the two pendulums she already managed to somehow weasel out of the ball, the entire thing jingling and clanging loudly as she did, and took the letter in its stead. She gave the flimsy paper a hit with the back of her free hand “- I, however, need nothing more than your delightful presence .” She read out loud “What is he thinking, waxing poetic like this?!”

Selena quieted down, her attention now fully on the letter as she proceeded to read it fully once again. And again. And once more, for good measure. And with each read, her face twisted in reaction, an open book for no one, except her palisman, to see. Once it was apparent she was re-reading the letter again, Pip cawed. It did gain her attention, somewhat, but it didn't draw her gaze away from Belos’ words.

She scoffed, “The cards said that just to annoy me, and you know it. That's why they were banished to the trash drawer in the first place, I would think!”

Her free hand rose up to support her head, index finger placed on her temple, the thumb at her chin, and she continued her intense dissertation of the Emperor's letter. Truth be told, she could not get it out of her head, not for the lack of trying of course. She tried occupying herself with something else, hell, there was currently a batch of fresh human muffins in the oven, the consequence of her trying to get over it.

Her apartment was slowly being overtaken by human muffins and cupcakes, but man did they ever smell nice while baking.

Selena didn't realise how tension left her muscles as she kept reading, her face losing its scowl. “All he needs, huh?” she muttered so softly it sounded more like a sigh than anything. Still slouching horribly in the peacock chair, she had slid out halfway out of it by this point, holding herself on it just barely by digging her heels in. “Well. I mean. My presence is delightful.” at this, Pip sounded off, and she huffed “Stop laughing, twerp!”

This was her fault, wasn’t it? She was the one who crossed the business boundary first, asking him outright for his friendship. Instead of leaving it in a vague, unlabeled limbo of awkward interactions, like any wise witch would. But no, they were officially friends now. Even more so bound by her heroic actions of self sacrifice. It’s no wonder his words are spelled out so fond of her, the man probably feels touched and indebted to her by now.

The little hero who saved the Emperor.

Selena scoffed. She was supposed to overthrow him, not save him. How in the world did she manage to fuck up this severely?

Nothing more than your delightful presence .

She felt something in her gut clench. Adrenaline up her spine and tingled the back of her head. It made her fingers itch with anticipation, and she flexed them to get rid of the rising urges. The words from the letter repeated in her head, in a perfect replica of the Emperor's voice.

It's a day off, dammit. She's taking one last day off. This isn't going to ruin it. She won't let it, damn it!

Selena finally slid all the way out of the chair, turning as she did to dramatically drape her arms and upper body over the seat. Her fingers continued to itch, twitching, nails tapping against the wood. She closed her eyes, focusing on the rhythm she set with her tapping.

Your company has been dearly missed.

“Titan-” Selena groaned loudly and buried her face into her arms “-damn it!”

She jumped onto her feet and continued cursing, a plethora of “damn it” leaving her mouth in fast succession whilst she once again started pacing the room in circles. Only this time, she pulled out her penstagram scroll, furiously scrolling through the private messages until she found the one she shared with Steve.

Oracle_Baker: Hey Steve

Oracle_Baker: So (ง ื▿ ื)ว

Oracle_Baker: Uh

Oracle_Baker: What are the chances of you picking me up for a royal delivery today?

Oracle_Baker: Like, after bakery working hours?

Oracle_Baker: No pressure ofc

Oracle_Baker: You don’t gotta

Oracle_Baker: Actually never mind |ω･)ﾉ

Oracle_Baker: The emperor is super busy I don’t want to impose _(:3 」∠)_

About to hurl the scroll out of the window in embarrassment, she was only stopped by it pinging, letting her know that she had gotten a response. She squeaked, feeling more anxious than before, and it took all her willpower to check the message

HailThexXEmperorXx: 👍

HailThexXEmperorXx: pick u up at 5

HailThexXEmperorXx: will let the emperor kno

HailThexXEmperorXx: c u then 🔥

This time, she did hurl the scroll, but thankfully only across the room and not through the window. Selena whined, rather loudly, and slid down to her knees, burying her face in her hands. “Why did I do that, what is wrong with meeee?!” she continued to wail, comically so, as she continued her descent onto the floor until she was fully horizontal and kicking her feet up in the air. As if that will somehow help her shake off the weird rush of ick-fueled energy she was experiencing.

“This is stupid.” her voice was muffled behind her hands “This is so stupid, by the gods I am stupid!”

Meanwhile, poor Pip watched, his beak agape, as Selena had an emotional breakdown worthy of a teenager going through witch puberty. He would tell her that he told her so, but right now, that would be the equivalent of signing his own death sentence.

So he just sighed, very dramatically, facepalming with his wing and continued watching Selena rolling around on the floor.

Today was going to be a long day, wasn’t it?

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

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valentine-cafe · 6 months ago

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UGHHHHHHHHH the need of another aftermath of the aftermath (the 164 alessio one) no like the angst is yummylicious i was EATTING that up like a bigback

NOW I WONDER. what would the other hubbies (talishen......get it? TALISEN + RISHEN cause if you put rishen's name first it'd be like...risen......) anyways what would they think?!?!?!? OR what would he do if he suddenly goes batshit crazy and makes a reader out of magic OR if reader's soul were to 'escape' from the (cage) EHEM pendant alessio put it in..........,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,...........

now i love alessio but honeslty getting told "u can never make me feel like what he made me feel" by my babe just hurts me right HERE (slaps chest) so i would LOVE it if you make him just............suffer in guilt for a iittle bit.................ykykykkYKYKYKKK

˖⁺. ﹙ sorcerer god x dead soulstate reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . There is no escape !! 🍒 : rishen: human ˖ alessio: sorcerer ˖ forest eldritch﹙ verse 164 rishen & alessio. ﹚

the light of the unknowing sunlight attempts to be your escape from your prison within the soul locket you reside in. However, it is all in vain

𖹭. ps : the chaos of this entire ask I love it omg also talishen is the official ship name for talisen and rishen you got it right <3

Lifeless

Reduced to nothing but a tiny glowing orb. Day by day. A witness of the multiple worlds that wastes away,

What an odd feeling. The available yet so unavailable vision of the world. Conscious, unconscious. Not quite there but always in between.

Is the soul within this locket staying young and fresh? Or does it long to pass properly. Be freed?

There was a call from somewhere beyond the atmoshpere begging for you to come home. Yet none came to sow your soul and reap it properly. To you, the afterlife was the same man that eventually led to your passing.

The regret and madness eroding the mental state that has depleted for millenia now. Something you thought you could fix.

What pitiful determination. Foolish. You cannot cure what is beyond repair. Something evil that has rotted inside of a gut for longer than you have lived.

Wake up once more, my dear, the yearning of afterlife calls for you.

There’s a crack in the pendant, an opening that you had not seen before. It looks like a bright sun in the night.

By instinct, your soul moves. Promises of freedom whisper to it, gentle hands reaching out for you. The vision of your family, people who you have loved and cared for deeply in your life.

How long have you been? Has it been a day? Two? Aeons?

Your little soul slowly takes the form a small, fire-y sprite. The illustrous flames licking at the obsidian table to reflect in the darkness like a star.

There is no presence of the manic god haunting you daily around. Nor is there the presence of the other primordial in the empty cottage.

You feel a presence of the sun instead. Turning towards you to look at the small sparkling sounds you are unaware that you make.

“Oh?” Rishen murmurs quietly, making his way over to you, slowly levelling himself to the ground to meet your soul face to face.

The giant sun before you shines brighter than any you’ve ever seen. It is hard to truly tell who it is in this state. Though you accept the kind and caring warmth that exudes from the being. You can’t tell that you are being lifted up.

“Aren’t you a soul, how did you get here?” She mumbles quietly, tilting her head in confusion. Her hand preventing you from falling over the other by cupping it against your back.

“But you shouldn’t be here. Should I take you outside?”

Oh how angels sigh at each word you hear pass into the room, the walls and floorboards feeling just lighter and less tense. Less like a cage.

You blur in an out of consciousness once more, the soft feel of grass surrounding your small sprite. Soul flickering with the colour of a fire rekindled, burning bright once again. And you rest in the expanse. Awaiting your complete passing.

A scythe nears your presence, as if a reaper from beyond the veils of this realm is reaching out to your soul to reap it.

Friends smile down at you, cheering you on. And your soul desperately attempts to pass.

Nevertheless, the gesture is done in vain.

The warmth of t he sun itself could not overtake the cold, suffocating grasp of the dulling stars. You have no time to express panic, nor feel it.

“How you escaped. I’ve not an idea. Dearest,” the gentle yet eerie voice of the monster that haunts your soul visions and dreams speaks. A gentle index moving down your soul’s core to dim your light and reduce you into the orb of light once more.

“You can’t leave me. I shall devour your soul and reduce it to nothing, shall you try again.” The warning shakes your soul up so much, the impact almost makes it shatter and tear apart, any energy that had built up is all pulled out of it, and you are once more weak and dull. Depandant on his magic and being.

#﹙ cupcake rush. ﹚: primordial husbands 𖹭 ݁#reader #monster boyfriend #teratophillia #terato #monster fucker #god x reader #sorcerer x reader #snake monster x reader #siren x reader #monster x reader #oc x reader #monster oc #x reader #reader insert #original character x reader #alessio 164 #rishen 164 #asterism

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moonlightazriel · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 17: Let the darkness set us free /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: They finally get face to face with the Valg King.

Word Count: 3,8K

Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood and war.

Notes: Hey, I'm back, I'm sorry ahahah hope you guys still remember what happened last chapter cuz I don't

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

A droplet of sweat ran down the column of Azriel’s neck, his grip on his shadows was tight, any slip ups and the cover he had on both his and Lucien’s body would be gone and their whole plan would go down the drain. Nesta was the first one, her wrists tied together, Ataraxia buzzed with energy on his back, wanting to be reunited with its owner.

Y/N guided Nesta carefully, her own sword covered by her cloak, and a dagger just a few inches away from the pulsing point in Nesta’s neck. From where he followed them closely, he could see the shaking in her hands, anxiety emanating from her distressed body.

Something deep inside her gut told her this was a mistake, but she knew it was the only way to kill Mantyx and guarantee a way home, even if as the time passed, the idea of going back to Erilea didn’t seem as appealing as it was in the beginning. Her stomach twisted and the content of the breakfast she had that morning threatened to spill as she stepped closer to that bridge.

The idea of getting trapped again with that monster, freeing him from his restraining, facing his full power and full wrath, was something that deeply scared her. But at the same time, she had to, so Prythian wouldn’t be just something else the valgs had destroyed.

The wood underneath her feet creaked with the weight of her boots, Nesta was as silent as the dead, controlled breaths escaping her mouth every once in a while, her icy blue eyes pierced the door, her magic recoiled inside of her as she felt the presence lurking in the shadows of the house.

With a screech, like the hinges couldn’t hold the old oak door for much longer, the door bursts open. Wearing a dark tunic that exposed his chest, his hair slicked back in an attempt to make himself more presentable, Mantyx walked out. His arms stretched forwards, the tips of his fingers itching to touch the power he felt emanating from Nesta.

Both of the females shivered in distress at the wicked grin he gave their way, his golden eyes taking in the bobbing of Nesta’s throat as she swallowed dryly. She was afraid of him and that made everything just so much more exciting.

“When I felt the amount of pain inside of your heart, I knew you could do it for me.” His velvety voice echoed around in the woods, the soldiers hiding there were able to hear it, Cassian clutched his sword harder, not being able to escort his mate inside was killing him, but he trusted Nesta to come back to him alive.

“I would do anything for my sister.” She refused to say Asterin’s name out loud, it was her way of protecting her from the cruelty of another Valg King.

“I know! And you will be compensated.” His smirk grew wider, awfully similar to Maeve’s. “Let’s come inside so we can discuss our plans.” Mantyx pushed Nesta inside, to make sure she wasn’t going anywhere, Y/N followed them closely.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Rhysand mustered his magic, his power seeping around, a huge cloud of mist covering the surrounding of the cabin, a mask to pretend everything was fine while the Vanserras positioned themselves, one by one, they circled the cabin.

Eris felt the doors that keeped his power controlled begging to be open, a wave of magic cursed through his body as he opened it, flooding like a waterfall, he had never felt so powerful before. He imagined his power expanding, forming the dome that would protect them from the evil inside of the cabin.

His brothers and his mother did the same, opening their bodies to that power, allowing that magic to consume and pour out of them, cascading around their limbs in a comfortable warmth. The fire bended to their will, forming the dome around the cabin to prevent them from getting out.

Cassian signalled to his troops that it was time to get in formation. The soldiers spreaded around the woods, their backs turned to the dome, protecting it was the top priority at the moment, if the dome faltered for just a second the consequences could be disastrous and no one in that field wanted to risk it.

So the Illyrians got in a defensive instance, their syphons glowing as shields started to be projected out of them in various colours. Cassian was in the sky, trying to spot any threats before they attacked, but to this moment nothing had appeared and he wondered if Nesta had started with the freeing spell.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Her skin prickled at the power who pushed hers back, like it was testing the waters before it attacked her. Koschei or Mantyx, whatever the hell his name was, moved around, his home smelled the same way Y/N did when she came back with the Ridderak’s head and coated in its putrid blood.

Nesta glanced at the female standing quietly in the shadowy corner, her dark blue eyes glued to the stone that called Nesta, a power just as old as the one coating the troves. She was afraid of getting too close, of touching it, afraid that the alluring song would consume her and drive her insane.

There was a faint smell of metal, and she knew the plan had begun. She forced her brain to focus on the words written in the diary. She had spent her days with her nose glued to those pages ever since Y/N and Azriel came back.

“Can I go to the bathroom?” Y/N asked and Mantyx turned his gold eyes to her, like he had just remembered that she was still there.

“Go ahead.” His hand pointed to a door on the opposite wall and the female nodded, placing her hands in front of her body just before she disappeared behind the door.

“What do you want from me?” Nesta asked as the male sat in front of her, three mugs filled with boiling hot tea, it smelled nicely. He threw a charming smile her way and she felt her guts twisting inside her body.

“You are the one who can help me achieve what I want.” He grabbed the mug and brought it to his lips, the sweet taste filled his mouth and he gestured for Nesta to drink her own tea but she shook her head in denial.

“And what would that be?” He blinked a couple of times.

“When I crossed to this world, conquering was my goal. Despite the resistance and the spell that locked me into this particular piece of land, I still will proceed with what I was destined to do.” He took another sip. “But you see, as I'm trapped here, I'm not in my full glory. I need you to free me.”

“I would never do it.” Nesta almost snorted with the irony, she was there to do exactly what he wanted and he had no fucking clue.

“Your power is formidable, you’re the only one who can break this spell, and once I'm free, I will assume my place as the King of Prythian. And you, Nesta Archeron…” He paused and Nesta knew that she should expect a completely absurd idea to come out of his mouth, but she had never expected what he said next. “You will be my queen.”

Nesta choked on her own saliva, a laughter of pure disbelief escaped her mouth and he squinted his eyes like he was offended. He needed a strong female by his side, he had lost his chance with Maeve once, he wouldn’t miss it now.

“I have a mate.” She managed to reply and he rolled his eyes, scoffing like that was irrelevant.

“Mating bonds mean nothing to me, they only serve to make good men weaker.” Nesta couldn’t believe her ears. “And if it matters so much to you, it’s not a problem for me to get rid of that brute you call a mate.” His eyes were glued to hers, in a challenge.

“You won’t touch Cassian.” She blurted, feeling the grip in her emotions slip through her fingers. To her relief, the bathroom door opened loudly and Y/N stepped out of the room, drying her hands on her pants. “You should give her the reward you promised her.” Mantyx leaned closer to Nesta, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he whispered.

“As powerful as I am, not even I could reverse death.” He placed his index finger in front of his mouth as he leaned backwards, away from her, winking so she would keep his secret. “Come sit with us.” And Y/n did as she was told, her knee bumping against Nesta’s.

The female looked at Y/N, watching as she closed her eyes and placed two fingers on her forehead, their secret sign to tell Nesta that everything was ready. Her eyes scanned the room, spotting the blue symbol made with Y/N’s blood, one on the wall she leaned when she entered, one in the bathroom door and one on the wall behind her, she knew that both Azriel and Lucien had made those while she distracted Mantyx.

With an iron nail, she started to free Nesta, her body turned towards the male while she tried to keep his focus solely on her. She talked about Asterin, giving random descriptions to keep him entertained, Mantyx pretended the things she said were relevant, but what he really focused on, was the heartbreak and pain she would feel once he told her the truth. Oh the sweet pain of losing again.

Nesta started chanting the words under her breath, the walls of the cabin starting to shake slightly as she repeated the verses from the diary. In a swift movement, Y/N was standing, her hand covered in black blood as she used her nails to rip his throat open. Mantyx looked at her startled, the motion caughting him by surprise.

Azriel dissipated his shadows, him and Lucien jumping into action, also coating their palms in the blood and rushing to the symbols they made. Nesta’s chanting got louder as she stood in the middle of the room, watching in horror as the wound closed just as quick as it was open.

“Now!” She instructed and the three of them placed their bloodied hands on the middle of the symbols, the pattern started to glow, and the whole earth shook with the power of those ancient chains that tied him to the lake were finally gone.

Mantyx got up, opening his arms and welcoming his full power back into his body. The four of them could feel it, the power emanating from him, dread set in their guts, this wasn’t going to be good. Mantyx walked towards Y/N.

“It’s my turn now.” He said, a horrific grin spread across his face when he wrapped his hand around her neck, squeezing the air out of it. “It’s time for my beasts to play.” He snapped his fingers and it was like the darkness had come to life.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Howling started to sound in the distance and the sound of leathery wings filled the air, Cassian shot up to the skies, followed closely by Rhys. They could see the black cloud approaching quickly, by foot, more horrendous creatures ran to them.

A large tail swung in the cloud, breaking the formation and making a confused mass of black bodies and ripped wings. Meraxes roared loudly, his powerful jaw closing on a bunch of those monsters, that only meant that Koschei was finally free and his family was trapped with that monster.

“They’re coming.” Rhys yelled and Cassian whistled. His troops breaking formation and shooting up towards the sky, protection from above and the sides, should be enough to keep the Vanserras alive.

The first wave of monster hit them by foot as Meraxes kept postponing the arrival of the flying beasts, his claws ripping them, his teeth swallowing their rotting flesh and his tail poisoning them, the beasts struggled to keep flying, falling dead as the poison quickly acted.

Their bodies colliding against the shields, talons trying to find any target, their only motivation was to kill, they didn’t care if they hit each other in the process, as their claws kept digging into each other’s skin, their screeches were agonising to hear.

Devlon commanded the Illyrians forward, their shields pushing the monsters back and their swords cutting through their flesh, but the monsters pushed forward too, their strength showing as their muscles contracted, trying to break their shields.

Cassian soared over their heads, his twin blades in each of his hands, decapitating the monsters as the others killed the ones who were able to escape Meraxes. One of the creatures jumped, landing inside the siege, just to be quickly impaled by a sword, the warrior cutting the monster in two.

Rhysand released his shadows, using his power to kill as many as he could, but the waves of monsters seemed endless, Mantyx had all the time in the world to create an army after all. One of the beast’s sharp teeth had sunk in the skin of his arm, making him growl in anger, spinning around, he cut the monster’s head in one movement.

His violet eyes caught the movement on the other side of the camp. Shining in the sun, the orange feathers of Vassa were beautiful. She squeaked and like a thousand suns, she lit on fire. Her flames finding their target each time, making the beasts shake in despair, moving their bodies around trying to extinguish the fire. Rhysand smiled at her, and with a loud growl, he went back to the brawl.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The air was getting cut out, she couldn’t breath, dark orbs flew around in her vision as she felt her consciousness slip away from her reach. She lifted her hand, wrapping her shaking fingers around the key, cold spread across her fingers, it was like her own soul had died.

At the same time she forced the stone away from him, Nesta had pierced Ataraxia on his arm, forcing him to let go. Y/N fell to the ground, trying to catch her breath, the wyrd key clutched hard on her hand. Mantyx felt the lack of power, looking down to find HIS key in that female’s hand, even with her heavy breathing she smirked at him.

Rage consumed his body, and he kicked her, Azriel growled in anger, jumping in front of her, using the truth teller to slash across his abdomen, but the wounds closed quickly. Mantyx punched him in the face repeatedly, being stopped by both Nesta and Lucien that held his arms back, pulling him away from Azriel’s bleeding face.

The shadowsinger crouched and took her face in between his hands, worry laced his features as he took in the blue coating her lips as she coughed blood from the kick in her belly. “Are you okay?” He asked, helping her to her feet, she nodded, twisting the band that held the key around her hand and grabbing her sword.

Mantyx was skilled, he dodged both Nesta’s and Lucien’s attempts to land a hit on him, moving gracefully like a swan. He wielded his power like a whip, hitting Lucien and Nesta, making them bleed. Y/N and Azriel joined, and Mantyx turned towards them, smelling the air, he scoffed.

“I told you that mating bonds mean nothing to me, and it will be my pleasure to destroy the one tying you two together.” Azriel lost his focus, feeling all the blood drain from his face, he looked over at her, and like a cruel joke, he felt the tug in his chest, the same he felt the day she went into the cabin for the first time, but now he knew what it was and what it meant. The oblivious female standing by his side was his mate, and when Azriel finally got back to reality, it was too late.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Elain felt her head dizzy once more, she was hiding behind the trees, Jurian guarding her when she closed her eyes, another vision filled her head, but this time, one she would never want to see again, Azriel cold body on the floor, his lifeless eyes open and facing the ceiling. Elain gasped, cleaning the blood dripping from her nose and looking at Jurian.

“We need to go, Azriel is in danger.” She grabbed Jurian’s hand, pulling the male towards the cabin; she didn’t care about the beasts that still fought with the Illyrians. Jurian opened the way for them, until she reached the dome, looking for Eris, she knew he would help her.

The male was standing, sweat coating his forehead as he kept using his powers, his eyes turned to her with a curious expression and Elain tried to steady her breath before she spoke.

“I NEED TO GET INSIDE.” Elain yelled over the sounds of the battle and Eris shook his head.

“You can’t, Lucien wouldn’t forgive me if I allowed it.” Elain groaned in frustration.

“Eris you don’t understand, Azriel will die if I don't enter right now.” The autumn heir looked at his sister in law, feeling the urgency in her words.

“Just try not to die.” He warned before he opened a small space on the dome, just enough for Elain to cross, followed by Jurian.

The female ran, crossing the bridge as fast as her feet would allow her, Jurian closely behind her. She reached the door, forcing them open but they didn’t budge. The male joined her, and the two started to force the heavy doors open, the oak woods scraping against the floor.

Elain took in the sight in front of her, Azriel laying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, his organs threatening to spill from the hole in his abdomen. Nesta crouched on the floor next to Azriel, trying to catch her breath. Lucien and Y/N had their backs turned to the two of them, and tried to prevent Koschei from getting closer to Azriel.

The two of them approached Azriel quickly, they needed to get him out before he bleeded out and nothing could be done to reverse his condition. He groaned when they lifted him, and Jurian carried most of his weight, dragging him outside and through the bridge.

Elain helped Nesta, pulling her sister with them and urging the remaining two to get out of the dome. Mantyx knew it was his chance, with his whip of power, he forced Lucien and Y/N backwards, forcing them outside, when they tried to remove the dying male he would get out and be free to conquer Prythian.

Jurian waited with Azriel, his body collapsing on the floor, Elain let go of Nesta, sitting on the floor to steady Azriel’s head on her lap, her hands ripping the fabric of her dress to try and stop the bleeding.

“Lucien, we need a way out.” She screamed and in a second her mate was on her side, his face turned to the dome ready to open.

Mantyx eyed Y/N, she held her sword against his power, the wyrd key still tied around on her hand, he just needed to get it back before he freed himself. His gaze softened and a lovingly smile graced his features, the whip disappearing as he prepared to talk.

“If you stop this right now, I'll bring your sister back.” He took a step forwards, slowly walking towards her. “All the pain will be gone in a second, and you will be happy again.” Another step.

Heavy tears fell from her tired eyes, Mantyx still smiled lovingly at her, his eyes however, they were fixed on the wyrd key clutched between her fingers.

“I can take her back to you, you won’t be alone anymore.” He promised, urging her forward with a slender finger.

She gave one step forward, her broken heart would finally find peace. A strangled plea for her to stop, to come back to him, sounded from somewhere behind her back but she didn’t listen.

All she could hear was Asterin’s soft laughter, the wind blew and it was like she could feel her spirit there, watching her. Love poured from the cracks of her heart, love for her sister, for the family they had, for the male bleeding behind her and the friends that welcomed her with open arms.

She kept walking until she was at arms distance from him, just a few inches closer and he would have what he wanted.

“Just give me the key, and I’ll bring her back.” His voice was saccharine, laced in false sympathy, like he could actually feel it.

Burned wood and smoke filled her nostrils, a sparkle of red behind him, and as he reached for the key in her hand, Godslayer pierced his stomach, and from behind him, straight to his heart, Lucien pierced his blade coated in his fire.

Black blood poured from his open mouth, straight to her face, his eyes wide as whatever that kept him alive started to fade.

“I would never want her back, not like this.” She turned her head backwards to her friends that awaited her, to the male being held by Elain, the male she loved so much and didn't have the courage to tell him. “And I’m not alone anymore.”

She removed the sword, stepping backwards and allowing Lucien to burn the fucker down. She closed her eyes, hearing the screams and smelling the burning flesh. She turned on her heels, walking towards Azriel and kneeling in front of him.

“I love you.” She breathed, hands cupping his cheeks and pulling him towards her to kiss him. “I’m so sorry for not saying it earlier.” He groaned.

“We need to get him to a healer.” Lucien spoke, forcing the dome open so they could cross.

Outside, the bodies of the monsters fell to the ground, without their master to keep them alive, they perished. Cassian and Rhysand ran to them, helping Jurian carry Azriel back.

“We have to get him back to Velaris.” Rhys said, and Cassian nodded, the male winnowed, disappearing with his brother. The rest of them would stay back to get everything in order.

“Are you okay?” Nesta said, her body slumping against Y/N.

“No, but once he is okay, I'll be.” She replied. Mantyx had said he was her mate, both her heart and her brain confused on what it even meant.

“Do you still want to go home?” Nesta inquired and Y/N turned to her, sorrow laced her features.

“I have to.” And with that, she left to find Meraxes.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

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brucewaynehater101 · 1 year ago

Note

Running over here to give an idea spawned from binging Pretty Cure transformations

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

The Drakes uncover artifacts on land once owned by their very own ancestors, to which they are the closest related descendents of

This gives them the absolute rights to distribution, and considering they spend less time with Tim than desirable, it's gifted to their boy in hopes of bonding with him through their ancestry

The last thing Tim expected upon opening the vintage birdcage was for the perch to swing and the sudden appearance of an bearded vulture flying out and soaring all over the room

Even stranger? The bird looked like it came out of a painting, from the brushstrokes to the exaggerated colors, like, its feathers were a wine red instead of red-orange one would expect

Oh, and the cheering—"Free! I'm free! Child, did you free me from my prison? Splendid! Spendid! I can cast revenge on those dastard Drakes at long last! Long last!"

Unfortunately for birdie here, they've been imprisoned for so long that any Drakes who imprisoned them are long dead

Remaining descendents are all innocent in this conflict

"A shame, a shame indeed, but now that I no longer fear them, and you too are ignorant of why they did not pass down their evil, I should give thanks to you."

"Tell me your Deepest Dream, and I'll isee if we can fulfill it."

Introducing Mes'Dremere, a painting granted life by magics long ago

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I haven't developed quite a backstory, I'll leave it to you guys to brainstorm, but this vulture (they/them) isn't going to be having any beef with living Drakes since their sworn enemies died long ago

More trivia, their name is a blend of Mesmerize and Dream

They are far from the only magical being to slip through the cracks and go unknown for so long

Tim Drake, descended from a line with the power to ensnare one of Mes'Dremere's power, is a canary in the coalmine so to speak, seeing strange beings that appear to do nothing, but attach themselves to practically everyone, even Batman

And with every rogue attack, every act of corruption, and especially Arkham Breakouts they only grow more numerous

He can even photograph them

"This isn't my Deepest Dream, I still need to figure it out, but can you tell me if there's a monster on this man's head, or if I'm just hallucinating?"

"To think, to think, I would ever see such a thing again. My boy, an awful, awful evil has beat me here, such that it will cast this place into a greater despair than ever seen before, before."

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

Hollowing Wish, entities as older than Mes'Dremere; they seek personhood, purpose, dreams and the will to go forward by feeding from unprotected and unsuspecting victims, so that they may finally end their everlasting hopelessness

But saying they are eating victims into depression isn't true. When someone, for example, expresses willpower, they release an energy the Hollowing Wish will then consume. A junk food compared to getting it from the source, right inside. It's not enough for them

Pursuing a fruitless path to ending their plights, Hollowing Wishes take but never give to even themselves, only continuing the ever downwards spiral

victims can include but are not exclusive to: people, animals, and objects granted oh so much love and care

Regarding the last one, objects have a dense core inside them of all the deeply held feelings towards them, whilst surrounding it are the passing feeling people have for it

In the rare case of a Wish attaching to a target for so long, the two will become one, becoming something that could be mistaken for a meta, alien or something else---this form is a Nightmare Awakening

they unleash their pain and greedily keep their happiness locked away in their head in a desperate bid to hold into the remains being sapped away from the brain---until the target is reduced to a hollowed husk with nothing left within

As for the Hollowing Wish? they fucjing combust since taking in joy fresh from the fruit pulp instead of the juice is more than they're built to contain, leading to surrounding area and beings being entrenched in brief happiness, and then an onslaught of magical despair until the magical despair in the area and people dries up over time

What is it that causes them to spawn? Who migrated here, bringing their anguish with them?

The Hollowing Wish is an extension of a will, a will in even greater despair---Praying For a Forever Demise

"To think it was a Forever Dream they prayed for long ago, but then, but then?"

"Their unending praying manifested into a terrible, terrible demise . . . a name so long is easier to call Praying. It too serves well enough in reminding us how we got here, does it not, does it not?"

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More tethered to the physical plane as one born into it, Tim is offered the power to become a hero himself, specialized to fight against the Hollowing Wishes

But he's just a fanboy! Wouldn't Batman or even Robin be better?

"Speaking from personal experience, he seems like far the man who would let these practices into his life, even with him having no other choice, no choice."

"Besides, besides, Robin must have his plate full, plate full. What better way to express your love for the Bats, than to ease their burdens, no matter how thankless, how thankless?"

"His own body can only go so far, hold so much, so much magic indeed."

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The streets have begun to talk of a boy . . .

"Magical Boy!" "Do you think Gotham is some kind of Sailor Moon episode?"

A boy without a mask yet crusading as the Bats do. Unrecognized like them; magic it must be

"I'm Dreaming of Robin," he says he is, "but I've never met Robin or Batman yet."

Colloquially, Dreaming Robin or Dream(s) Robin

He's found where the Bats won't be, putting a stop to crime, giving thankless aid, and other acts of public service

But stranger is that which he grants and insists people keep around their house for protection

Blank photographs that upon touch become depictions of the little things that grant a bit more joy

And less pressure on their shoulders

By Dreaming Robin's side is a vulture, a guardian calling themself Mes'Dremere

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Magical Boy Dreaming of Robin, Tim Drake. What does his arsenal hold? Listen Right Up!

[Materialized Eternity] is the ability to utilize photographs Tim takes by pouring his magic into his photos of choice

Say for example that Tim photographed Nightwing quadruple backflipping, a feat impossible for Drake

If Tim puts magic into that picture and he has it on his person, he will be able to reenact that quad-backflip just like Nightwing did, but doing so will drain the magic in the photo like a battery

After running out, the picture would need to be recharged on magic to be put to use again

That's just one way Tim can use the magic

[Lasting Photoshoot] the ability to pause time on entities and an area right after Tim takes a photo of for a short period of time

[Merry Memory] is the power to take a blank photograph and enchant it to protect people from magic by taking the image of something they love. It's Tim's go-to for defending people and himself from Hollowing Wishes

[Realization in Reach], Realization for short, is a magical staff and his primary weapon, as it can channel Tim's latent magical powers along with his gifted ones.

While feasible as a physical weapn, it gives Tim's magic more strength and a much wider area of effect. Emphasis on the more strength which Tim has to be careful about

[Forever Remember] is the power to photograph a Hollowing Wish that Tim defeats and thus seal them permanently within those photos

Photoed Wishes can be weaponized against other Wishes and Nightmares to make them fight for the same resources they crave. When weaponized wishes run dry, unlike Eternities, those Wishes effectively die and cease to exist

the photo becomes blank, and can picture something else

Tim also has safes with as much scientific and magical security employed, storing albums with Hollowing Wishes and Materialized Eternities to swap out

Now for The Best Part yet!

"My Deepest Dream, I'll make you true!" A heirloom locket holding Tim's most precious photo of Robin he's ever taken, it is his chosen transformation item

(here's to hoping it never gets taken away due to that very picture within, because Tim won't be the only person fucked over by it)

As a rule of thumb, Dreaming Robin's outfit, his arsenal, and the photos he gives to protect against Hollowing Wishes all look like they came out of a painting, specifically what you get when googling "mystical painting"

Tim does learn some other magics that can be used to fight against Hollowing Wishes, Nightmare Awakenings and purify an area and people suffering the affereffects of a Hollowing Wish exploding and spreading their despair everywhere

Yeah Tim is gonna angst every time he fails to save a Nightmare Awakening before it's too late for them, poor him :(

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In unrelated news? Tim has himself a pet too well trained, yet several times proven unabused and pampered

American Robin Dreams Come True 'Dreams' who people swear came from a painting despite their vibrant feathers being so picturesque, and vibrantly red all naturally

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Gotham is yet again the source of insanity. That being strange monsters that abruptly show themselves to people before forcibly turning them into monsters

Thankfully, Dreaming of Robin always comes to save the day

Hollowing Wishes, he calls these monsters

Nightmare Awakenings, the victims are named

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Some extra deets

Haha depression go brrrr

Praying For a Forever Demise is like this due to how much anguish, and hollowness they hold, and the desire for joy they want &/or used to have

Maybe they got their depression all naturally, or maybe magical shenanigans lead to them possessing an ungodly amount of it inside of them idk, maybe a blend of both

But yeah, Praying is only going to put to a stop when help and empathy is placed in front of them, and the shot of a happy dream everlasting is finally in reach

Also uh, Praying isn't wholly aware of wtf is going on outside of their head as they stew in their despair, with the rare blips of hope provided by Hollowing Wishes

Their situation is similar to a powerful deity unaware of their godhood and untrained into their powers which need to actively be restrained, but that has evidently not happened

so yeah, they're unknowingly spreading their depression everywhere

Or maybe they have come to awareness that spreading Hollowing Wishes is what they're doing and have compartmentalized that, it doesn't stop their depression from being worse nor even more Wishes spawning but willful ignorance is intoxicating

idk how they traveled to Gotham either lol, but they're dead center in Arkham Asylum, and with it being the new source for Hollowing Wishes, its gonna became way, way worse than in canon

Also prior to being Praying For a Forever Demise, they were Praying For a Forever Dream, do with this knowledge what you will

Are other Drake artifacts magical as well? You decide!

For clarification, Tim's magical boy alias, "Dreaming of Robin" is maybe an accident where he just states that "yeah I dream of Robin, he's my hero" but people thought he was stating his name so it stuck

Or maybe he intentionally introduces himself like that for the symbolic name

Mes'Dremere employs a whitelist geass preventing people from finding out Tim is Dream Robin unless they're whitelisted

I'm thinking that Tim could accidentally snatch up future Waynes into his team, and under Mes' tutelage, Stephanie, Duke, Cassandra and maybe even Damian

I think Jason, after dying and reviving, and he alongside Damian due to the Lazarus Pits, would be especially vulnerable to Hollowing Wishes, so woof

Side note, I think Tim would offer Jason-as-Robin the chance to become a Magical Boy with him, only for him to decline and after resurrection thinking

"I should've taken the Magical Boy route when I had the chance," lmao

Idk if Tim would still become a Teen Titan here, but it'd be neat if all of the Young Justice core four and maybe more became/joined the magical boy & girl team

Since Arkham is a breeding ground of Hollowing Wishes, people there are the least likely to become Nightmare Awakenings since they all have countless Hollowing Wishes attached to them

that means several Wishes are fighting for resources against eachother to sap up expressed will/joy/accomplishments etc.

Because they're fighting over the same person, often dying in the process and others joining the fray in fighting over their victims, they often make little progress in making way to becoming Nightmare Awakenings

So yeah, where as Batman and the clan will be more focussed on their rogues, Tim is more worried about normies who are more likely to fall victim to Hollowing Wishes

That being said, he doesn't wanna see a rogue or bat become a Nightmare Awakening, so he gives them both tons of Merry Memories and get rid of as many Hollowing Wishes on them as he can

And he's rightfully afraid, all hell will break loose if they subcumb to Nightmarehood

Feel free but not pressured to expand on this as you all wish

A magical boy Tim AU? Hell yeah.

Some additional ideas to add:

Tim's outfit comes from the culture present at the time of when Mes'Dremere was imprisoned. Tim has absolutely no choice in this matter, which is an initial point of contention. However, it eventually becomes a point of pride and comfort

The culture is one specific to this AU (so there's no cultural appropriation). Similar to Atlantis, Krypton, and other lost societies, Tim starts to discover their practices, rituals, customs, etc when he's trying to connect to his roots (since it's also the culture of his ancestors).

Jason rejects becoming a magical boy because he's "a literature nerd, not that kind of nerd." Tim's a little offended by this, but they get over it quickly. Jason also grumbles when he gets the All Caste because he ended up becoming a magical boy anyways, just without the transformation scene.

There can be angst added where Jason says Robin is magic so he doesn't need to become a magical boy. Then Jason dies and ends up getting All Caste.

Tim ends up learning a lot about psychology as a nonmagical way to help people as well. If there are fewer depressive symptoms, there's less for the Hollowing Wishes to feed on. Also, mental health techniques/coping mechanisms can delay the progression into a Nightmare Awakening.

The YJ core don't end up becoming magical boys/girls except for Bart. They do team up, though, and Tim helps a lot in battles even when there aren't Hollowing Wishes.

Cass would definitely vibe with becoming a magical girl since there's no killing. She'd probably do both the magical girl routine and become a Bat cause she's awesome like that

Would Damian view the Wishes as creatures?

Tim is able to form a different type of friendship with Zatana, Raven, and Anita due to his magical status. He also likes to call up Constantine to bother the poor bastard (it's funny to him).

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #dc au #thank you for the ask!!!!

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