#the way the story was written for a very specific kind of reader and not for profit that could make everyone like it
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paganinpurple · 2 years ago
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AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED
Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.
It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:
As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.
If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.
No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).
Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.
There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.
For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.
The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.
Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.
If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.
Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.
Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.
People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.
Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.
Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.
It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.
The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.
I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.
I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.
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navybrat817 · 3 months ago
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Give Me One More
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Pairing: Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: You don't need Bucky. He's going to prove you wrong. Over and over and over...
Word Count: Over 3.7k
Warnings: DUBCON to be safe, explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f. receiving), overstimulation, masturbation, established and slightly toxic relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, family drama, betrayal, threats (not against reader), loose backstory, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a bit mean, okay?).
A/N: I spoke about prisoner!Bucky ages back and I couldn't let this go. Especially not when I'm looking at that beautiful edit by the more beautiful @nixakimbo! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own (but thanks to @whisperlullaby for discussing this man with me!). Divider by the talented @saradika. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You pushed the curtain aside to look out the bedroom window, the clouds dark and thick in the sky. Your home used to be your safe haven, a place of comfort, and all you wanted to do now was escape from your prison of sorts. Not the kind of place your boyfriend, Bucky, spent time in. The bars that kept you in couldn't be seen by the naked eye.
“Can't stay in there all day,” Bucky said from the hall, his deep voice reminding you that you weren't alone.
You’d never be alone again.
“Yes, I can,” you called back. You had been in your bedroom for well over an hour since you snapped at him and left him alone in the living room. If staying in there meant avoiding him, you were fine with that.
You half expected him to stomp down the hall, but he only said, “You’re being a fucking brat.”
Blood rushed to your cheeks as anger flowed through you. “Leave me alone, asshole!” You shouted, feeling every bit like the brat he said you were.
You weren’t sure what set you off today. It could've been because you were still angry that Bucky used you. How long did it take for an empire to fall? In your case, six months.
Half a year ago, Bucky Barnes bumped into you at your favorite coffee shop. Literally. He was large, built like a powerhouse, but his grip that kept you from falling was so gentle. One look in his cerulean eyes and you were a goner. He easily charmed his way into your life and bed. He treated you like a princess, better than any boyfriend before, and you naively believed it was fate that brought you together.
You should’ve known it wasn't the beginning of a happy new chapter in your story. It was a clock winding down to your doom. More specifically, your father’s doom. Because Bucky wanted to destroy the man who helped land him in jail.
The White Wolf, a nickname for Bucky you recently learned about, wasn't a good man. Far from it and far from being a reformed criminal. He took it personally that your dad got him put behind bars for a short time. So he tore his life apart. Took his job away. Urged his friends to abandon or turn on him. Got him put in jail. Bucky even rubbed it in his face that he fucked his daughter. All in six months.
It would almost be impressive if you weren't the one living with the aftermath.
Had your dad known exactly who you were seeing, he may have tried to stop you.
“Asshole,” you muttered.
What Bucky didn't plan on was falling for you or so he said. You were, apparently, his chance at happiness. Because of that, he wouldn't let you go. And he expected you to just forgive him and move forward.
How could you forgive him?
He promised he’d hunt you down if you tried to leave him. You naturally tried and didn't get very far. The sick part was how much you enjoyed him chasing after you and bringing you back. After he fucked you where he found you.
As if he read your mind, he called out, “I know you're frustrated. Bet if you sit on my cock you'll feel better.”
Your cheeks flamed, your panties damp. Damn him for still arousing you with so little words. “Go fuck yourself.”
That actually wasn't a bad idea. He was right. You were frustrated and itching to get out of your own skin. Maybe if you got yourself off, you’d feel a little better. Not happy, but better.
“I don't need him,” you said.
That was what you told yourself as you stripped down and got on the bed. But as you ran your hands along your breasts, gasping as you moved one hand lower, it didn't feel right. The normal fire within you didn't burn. Didn't even a flicker. A raw ache instead outweighed the pleasure you tried to give yourself.
“Damn it,” you muttered.
You heard Bucky’s dark chuckle from the doorway and made the mistake of looking his way. You weren't sure how long he'd been standing there, but his cock was free from the confines of his pants and he lost his shirt at some point, too. He didn't attempt to hide the array of scars and tattoos that littered his torso. Ones you traced with your fingers and tongue more times than you could count. Back when you weren't a pawn in his game.
But if you really were a pawn, why did he have your name tattooed over his chest?
“Looks like you need a hand,” he said, brushing back his long hair as his eyes moved along your body from head to toe.
You ignored your racing heart as you said through your teeth, “Go away.”
He tore your life apart like a tornado, leaving destruction where there was once calm and beauty. Instead of letting you pick up the pieces, he continued to wreck everything around you. He broke you, too, but you were also the only thing he put back together.
The smirk he gave you was one you used to adore. “What’s wrong, princess? Still mad at me?”
You scoffed. Was he serious? “Yes, I’m fucking mad at you.”
“Still mad about the past? Or is it because you can't get out of your own head long enough to make yourself come?” He taunted, slowly stroking his thick cock. “Did you ever actually get yourself off before me? Or did you not know what an orgasm was until I gave you one?”
You watched with a lustful gaze as his hand moved up and down, your eyes not leaving the sight as you desperately tried to get some sort of relief. “I had plenty before you showed up,” you hissed, sliding a finger into your tight hole.
“You know, all you have to do is admit that I'm right: That I've ruined you and all you can think about is how good it feels when I'm fucking you. Admit it and I’ll get you off.”
Pushing another finger inside yourself, you refused to admit that he was telling the truth. Nothing felt as good as he did. And that was the problem, wasn't it? You shouldn't want or need him. Not after everything he had done to your family.
He groaned as he watched your fingers sink in. “You're so pathetic laying there. My pretty little slut wants to prove the impossible. Just wants to prove that she doesn't need me when we both know that's a fucking lie,” he grunted as his cock twitched, making you clench in want despite your anger at his words. “Better hurry up and say it. Otherwise I'm going to come all over you and you're going to be left begging to come and not get off at all.”
You whined as a tear fell from your eye. “You're an asshole. The lowest of the low.”
He chuckled as he brushed his thumb along the tip, watching as your eyes followed the motion. “Now you're just trying to hurt my feelings and that's mean, princess. That isn't you. I'm the mean one in this relationship.”
Your fingers froze as you narrowed your eyes. “Relationship? Don't you mean your prisoner?”
Your breath caught in your throat when he smirked, something darker than before. “You think you're a prisoner? You have no fucking idea. I’ve been to prison. This is a fucking walk in the park,” he said, pouring more salt in the open wound when he added, “And your dad knows all about prison now, doesn't he?”
You choked on your next breath. “How dare-”
“Relationship, prisoner, my girl. You're still fucking mine,” he snarled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “And I'm still right. So just say it. Tell me you need my cock and I'll get you off. Fuck that pretty pussy so good you cry for me. Won't even make you apologize for repeatedly calling me an asshole.”
“I wish I never met you,” you blurted out.
Guilt churned in your stomach at the hurt in his eyes. Why did you still care after what he did? Why did he matter to you? “You don't mean that,” he whispered before he blinked, ice in his gaze. “You’re just being a fucking brat.”
You let out a small scream of frustration when you removed your fingers and reached for your side drawer where you kept your vibrator. If Bucky was going to keep being an asshole who wouldn't get you off, your toy would. But he didn't let you get very far. Not when he was on you in a flash, throwing the toy far behind him and pinning your wrists above your head.
His breathing was almost as heavy as yours.
“Oh no, princess. You're so confident you can come without me then that must mean you don't need any help at all coming,” he smirked, gripping your wrists tighter as you squirmed beneath him. You didn't dare look down when his cock brushed against your skin. “It's cute that you think you're stronger than I am. That sexual frustration must really be fucking with your head. I can fix that.”
“You're fucking sick. I don't… I… I don't need you,” you said, not having to see your eyes to know your pupils were blown with lust. Your tongue darted out to lick bottom lip before your gaze settled on his, challenging. “You need me more than I need you. What was it you said? That I was the best pussy you ever had? And you’d be happy to keep your cock in me all day every day?”
“Just like my cock is the best you ever had.”
You opened your legs a bit more when he clenched his jaw. “And you don't want to finish on me. You want to be in me. If it were any other guy, he'd-”
He growled when he grabbed your chin. It was a reminder of just how strong he was and how he could hurt you if he wanted to. “There are no other guys. Do you fucking hear me?”
It was your turn to smirk. Bucky was a lot of things, but he never strayed. Not once. He would forever be faithful. “You sure about that? Maybe I can't relax right now, but if you won't fuck me I’m sure I can find someone who-”
He flipped you on your stomach and gripped the back of your neck before you could finish that statement. “If you think I wouldn’t kill any guy who touches you, you’re out of your fucking mind. Keep pushing me, sweetheart. See what happens.”
You bit back a moan at the gravel in his voice as you turned your head to the side, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. It was dangerous to poke the bear, but you were past the point of caring. Especially when fury looked beautiful on him. “What's wrong, Bucky? Don't like the taste of your own medicine?”
He leaned down, his breath harsh against your ear. “I prefer the taste of your pussy. Always so good for me. You wanna hear that I need you? Fine. I fucking need you,” he rasped, biting at your earlobe. “Happy?”
“And that you’re sorry?”
“For hurting you? Yes,” he whispered, nosing along your neck. “Never meant to hurt you.”
You shuddered, almost delirious from needing to come. And the fact that he admitted that he needed you. That he was sorry for hurting you. But you weren't ready to play nice. “I'll be happier when you finally decide to fuck me, but you're just a fucking asshole, aren't you?”
He let out a slow breath. “Yeah, I'm a fucking asshole.” He nipped your earlobe roughly again in retaliation before settling between your legs and teasingly brushing the tip of his cock along your folds. “And I'll fuck you when you say you need me, too.”
You tried to push back to take him in, but he kept a firm hold on your hips. You tried to wiggle out of it, but it only brought you frustration as you groaned. “If you're really going to make me say it, don't hold your breath. You can't threaten me, Bucky. You're all talk. And guess what?” You said, smiling sweetly. “I can find another guy to fuck me better than you can.”
You couldn’t see the thunderous look in his eyes, but you heard the low and menacing chuckle in his throat. It sent chills down your spine. Maybe you pushed too far this time, but you didn’t care. He deserved it and worse.
“You're trying to piss me off and I want you to remember that you pushed me to this,” he said more to himself than you before sheathing you in one hard thrust, your mouth falling open in a cry at his sudden intrusion. “Hope you enjoy the bed since you won't even be able to walk out of this room.”
You stared at the wall, your eyes unseeing as Bucky tore you apart. Seconds passed. Minutes. Hours. The sound of his grunts from behind you filled your ears, along with the brutal slap of skin-on-skin. Your body burned, the overwhelming stretch from his cock making you lose sense of yourself. You told yourself he’d finish fucking you soon, but that felt like ages ago.
You also told yourself there was no way you’d have another orgasm, but he proved you wrong. Climax after climax, your release practically flooded around him. At this rate, you really wouldn't be able to get out of bed.
“Bucky,” you gasped, trying to grip the sheets for purchase as he pulled out and slammed back into you. “Please…”
You were boneless, exhausted, and he just kept going. “Oh, no, princess. You wanted to get off.”
Tears of ecstasy streamed down your cheeks, whimpering when you felt yourself on the cusp of another orgasm. How was that possible? How many had he given you? “Bucky, I…” you moaned as you clenched around his cock again.
He cooed, a taunting sound when you choked on a sob. “So good, but I want another.”
“I don't… ” Your eyes rolled back, your head spinning. “I can't.”
You’d seriously lost count at that point how many times you’d come. And your whimper didn't stop Bucky from mockingly cooing again. “Aww, you don't think you can? My poor little fuck doll can still talk which means she hasn't had enough yet. This pussy is so fucking wet for me, so swollen,” he taunted, reaching underneath you and flicking your overstimulated clit as a choked moan escaped you, your walls tightening around him once again. “See? Your greedy little cunt can't get enough of me.”
Why did your body need him so badly? “I can't…” you whined as he licked one of your tears away, seemingly unbothered by the sheen of sweat on your face.
“You think anyone else can do this? Work your body up like this over and over again?” He grunted against your cheek. Your eyes squeezed shut at his harsh panting, his pace not slowing. “All you had to do was say that you need me. But no. You just had to be a fucking brat.”
You practically wailed as you teetered on the edge of another orgasm. “I-I need you. Just you, Bucky,” you said. At least, you thought you said it. You had a tough time stringing any thoughts together with his cock splitting you open.
But his thrusts don’t slow. They were just as relentless as before. “Oh, no. You had your chance to say it,” he snarled, leaning up to pull your hips back against his. “And my pussy is telling me all I need to know. So just lay there and give me another.”
The pleasure bordered on the edge of pain as a sob escaped. There was no possible way you could come again. As much as you thought you couldn’t take it, your body tensed. You still craved him and wanted to give him one more. So you did. You shattered. It was almost too easy that he managed to pull another orgasm from your pliable body.
Or maybe you were just easy for him.
Bucky smacked your ass hard enough to make you cry out, his hand kneading the flesh with a delighted groan. “Fuck, each one is better than the last, princess. You want me to fill you up huh? You wanna feel me dripping from you?” He chuckled darkly, finally slowing down as you let out another sob. He shushed you before he put a hand on the back of your neck and kept you down. “I’m gonna fill you up and you’re gonna take it. Then, I'm gonna lick you clean until I'm satisfied.”
“No…”
He gave you one more smack for good measure when you made a sound of protest. “C'mon, princess. Beg for me to fill you up. If you can talk.”
You didn’t know if you could. You were practically a drooling mess as he drove in as deep as he can go. “Pl… Pl… Bu…” you tried to moan, another tear falling as he shushed you again.
“Got you cockdrunk, didn't I? Need to be pumped full? Then let me give you every. Fucking. Drop.”
A tired moan came out when he filled you up, giving a few slow thrusts as he finished. Your body trembled beneath him, a whiplash of chills and heat. You barely registered him pulling out before he flipped you onto your back. Glassy and unfocused eyes. Makeup smeared all your face. Tears stains on your cheeks. You must’ve looked quite the sight.
He relished in ruining you.
And the beautiful bastard didn’t even look like he broke a sweat.
“Should I call you a dog? You’re drooling, princess,” he smirked. You didn’t have it in you to argue as his eyes drifted down to your pussy. It was still twitching and leaking with your mixed release. He licked his lips as he slid down your body more to fully take in the sight. “And you look good enough to eat, so I think that's just what I'll do.”
“What…” you gasped. He couldn't. Not after all that.
You whimpered as you tried to push him away with a tired hand, but he grabbed your wrists with a tsk. “No, no, no, sweetheart. You keep your hands to yourself. I told you I wasn't done with you and it's rude to keep a man from his meal.”
You were still floating from the multiple orgasms he gave you when he took his first lick. Your shivers picked up again and he groaned at your taste before diving in. Any strength you had to try to push him away depleted immediately, even with how sensitive your walls felt. You couldn't stop him.
You’d never be able to stop him.
After a minute, your eyes widened when you felt him build you up again. “No,” you moaned, but the sight of him between your legs, eating you like he was starving, was too much.
He just hummed against you. "Give. Me. One. More.”
Your back arched when his lips latched onto your clit, forcing the orgasm from your worn out body. You weren’t sure if you made a sound, but you trembled as your release went on for what seemed like forever. Bucky’s tongue lapped it all up, humming before he sat back and looked at your wrecked form again. He made a show of licking the shine from his lips and looked just as proud as ruining you with his tongue the way he did with his cock.
“If you ever try to threaten me with another man or refuse to admit you want me again, I'll make sure to tie you to this bed for a week and refuse to let you come even if you beg for it. And I shouldn’t have to mention what else I can do. Do you understand?”
You trembled, knowing exactly what Bucky was capable of. While he never laid a hand on you to inflict pain, you knew the damage he did to others. Like the bodies buried and cold in the ground because of him. Not to mention the connections he still had at the prison. All he had to do was say the word and that would be the true end of your dad.
With unfocused and teary eyes, you gave him a nod. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered.
“Now tell me you love me and that you’re sorry,” he ordered.
A tear slid from the corner of your eye. “…Love you. I’m sorry.”
His smile was tender and for a second you forgot about everything else. “That’s my good girl,” he praised, your heart betraying you like your body did when he kissed your lips. “And I love you, too.”
You whined as he left your line of sight, but he came back almost right away to sit beside you, the bed dipping under his weight. “Drink it, princess,” he urged, his voice gentler than before he helped you take a sip of water. He even smiled again when he wiped another tear of yours away. “We can go back to the way it was before, you know. When you were blissfully unaware and we just quickly fell in love.”
The pain in your heart came and went as your breathing evened. You wished you could go back to innocent movie nights and meals. To waking up beside him with a smile on your face. To making love so passionate that you believed you were made for each other. There was no changing anything or going back. You could only move forward with him by your side.
Bucky sighed when you didn't say anything. “I know I’m a piece of shit, but I won't stop loving you. And I think you learned your lesson.”
You blinked a little as you took another sip, on the verge of passing out.
“You’re mine and I’m never letting you go,” he whispered, brushing the gentlest of kisses against the top of your head. “Don’t you ever fucking forget that.”
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So... I know he isn't all good, but I had fun writing this and I hope you lovelies enjoyed it! Would love to hear your thoughts and maybe I'll expand on this? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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cy-cyborg · 7 months ago
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Forgetting your character is disabled isn't a "good representation" flex: Writing Disability Quick Tips
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[ID: An image with “Writing Disability quick tips: Forgetting your character is disabled isn't a good representation flex” written in chalk the colour of the disability pride flag, from left to right, red, yellow, white, blue and green. Beside the text is a poorly drawn man in red chalk looking down confused at his leg, one is drawn normally, the other is drawn to resemble a basic prosthetic. He has question marks above his head. /End ID]
For a while, I was involved in the booktok and Tik Tok writing communities, specifically parts of the community focused on more diverse books and authors. During this time, I noticed a reoccurring pattern when people were highlighting stories featuring disabled characters, or even promoting their own books, and that was how often people would say "I kind of forget they have [insert disability here] because they're such a badass."
The intention behind this statement is (usually) good, with people trying to show that their disabled characters are self-sufficient and don't fall into the tired old sad/helpless disabled person trope, however, you can - and very much should - do that without erasing your character's disability. If you find yourself forgetting your character is disabled, or your beta and pre-release readers are commenting about forgetting it, then there's a good chance that's exactly what you've done - and as a disabled person myself, if I see that statement being used in your marketing in particular, it's a giant red flag and a sure fire way to make sure I give the book in question a skip.
Remember, disabilities (especially major ones) are a part of your character's identity, and they're important regardless of the character's personal relationship with it. Even if your character doesn't specifically identify with the label of disabled or doesn't really care that much, it's should still be impacting their daily life, even in small ways. If you're finding yourself forgetting about a major part of your character's identity, it might be a good idea to check and make sure their disability is having an impact on the character.
I see this comment most often with amputee characters, and to me, it's a pretty consistently good indication that the author has treated their character's prosthetic as a cure rather than the mobility aid it is. It's far from unique to amputees, mind you (I talked about this a lot when I was discussing the character of Toph from Avatar), but it's when I tend to see it the most. Remember that mobility aids and other forms of assistive technology and assistive magic (if it's a fantasy story) are just that: they're aids, they assist, they shouldn't be cures.
Of course, this wasn't unique to Booktok, I've seen it on nearly every other social media site with a writing and book-focused community at some point, but Tik Tok was just where I spent the most time and it seems to be where I see the most people specifically gloating about it.
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lxkeee · 10 months ago
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MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE PART THREE
pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader
fandom: hazbin hotel
genre: fanfiction
notes: Imaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]
warnings: none except hand holding before marriage Imao.
PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR
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Lucifer paced back and forth in his room, worried. Walking around the large master's bedroom, passing by many piles of rubber ducks he made.
“She should be back by now.” Lucifer murmured to himself, sighing.
His eyes landed on to the framed pictures decorating his walls.
He prayed that Charlie met [y/n] up there, the one angel he trusts. Though, it has been eons since he's last seen her, he wonders if [y/n] changed after all these years, especially after he had fallen from grace.
Did she hate him? Did she miss him like how he misses her?
As he sat on his arm chair, a gold sealed white envelope manifested on top of the coffee table in front of him, pink glittery smoke surrounding the letter.
“...What the...?” Lucifer murmurs, hesitant and cautious, eyeing the envelope. What if it's a trap?
Suddenly his phone buzzed, he immediately checked it to see it was a text message from Charlie.
“I just left a letter on your table, it's from someone you know. I'll tell you everything that happened in heaven but I'll rest for a bit. Love you dad!”
Lucifer smiled though a tad bit worried, he can tell that the meeting didn't go as his daughter hoped. He can only give her time.
Lucifer then now turned his eyes back on the neat envelope, sparkling a little. He turned the letter around to see it was specifically addressed to him, written in an oh so familiar handwriting to him. Unknowingly, just by seeing the handwriting was enough for his eyes to tear up a little.
“[y/n]....” He murmurs, finally opening the letter. Using his sharp nails to scrape off the wax without breaking it or tearing the envelope. Taking out the carefully folded light yellow paper, unfolding it to reveal her letter to him.
My Dearest Lucifer
His cheeks flushed slightly, with a comma after dearest. My Dearest, Lucifer
“Oh [y/n], this will keep me up at night.” Lucifer murmurs with a small dorky smile on his face, his sharp teeth shining against the light, eyes watering.
My Dearest, Lucifer
       It has been awhile hasn't it? A couple of eons since we've last seen each other. You have no idea how excited I was when I heard your daughter would be coming here in hell. I made sure to write a letter in advance a day before her arrival. I have a lot to tell you, first and foremost, I truly missed you. You sly man, you really got married without inviting me. How's your time down there? I hope hell is treating you right, I really hope I'll get a chance to see you again. I hope we'll get a proper chance to talk, I want to personally hear you how you've been doing. I hope you'll get the chance to see the good of humans after giving them free will, I promise to find a way for you to leave and visit earth. I am running out of paper to right on but I promise to help your daughter up here and lastly, I want you to remember that I adore you always.
“Sincerely yours, [y/n] [l/n]” Lucifer softly reads out, voice shaking. It felt like he could hear her as he read the letter. The same kind [y/n] who always believed in him. His heart swells knowing that she's still trying to help in any way she can despite their distance. She never stopped believing in him despite him leaving without notice (not that he had the chance to).
“If only you knew how much I adore you too, [y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs softly, his finger tracing the outline of the paper ever so gently.
“I want to see you again, I have so many things to say to you... So many unsaid words I wanted to say... I wanted to tell you that I love...” Lucifer's eyes widened ever so slightly, cheeks turning red. He knows he loves her and he still does but he also loves his ex-wife, Lilith. Does he? Or is he just holding into something that no longer exists as it was something he had for a long time and now it's gone?
Everything in his life changed, Lilith's love for him changed, he changed.
Despite all of this, [y/n] remained unchanging inside his heart. Sure, Lilith held the majority of his heart but now? He is not sure but he is 100% sure [y/n] never left, he still has affections for the angel.
How can he not? She's the only one who believed in him when he was up in heaven? She comforted him whenever the elders said hurtful things to his ideas.
But now...
Her letter gave him a sense of hope that his decision of giving mankind free will might not be useless after all.
Lucifer closes the letter, gently folding it back on how it was folded before he opened it. Bringing the piece of paper to his nose, smelling the faint scent of her perfume. It brought back memories of his time with her in heaven.
“I'll ask Charlie about what happened up there later but for now, I'll take a moment to process this.” He says with a small sigh. Slipping the folded paper back into the envelope.
Lucifer sighs as he gently places the envelope back on his table, walking to his balcony. Eyes staring up into the smoky red skies of hell, devoid of any moon and stars.
He used to stargaze with her when he was still in heaven.
[y/n] was his moon, who shines during his darkest days.
Waving his finger in the air, specks of golden dust flickers out of his fingers. Forming a crescent moon.
Lucifer leans into the railings, eyes staring at the faux moon he created.
“Moon, tell me if I could...” Lucifer softly sang, eyes tired but hopeful. “Send up my heart to you...?” he asked softly, unfortunately no one answered.
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A bit of a timeskip....
It has been a few months since Charlie's visit here in heaven and the next extermination is getting closer by the day. Emily and I are still trying to look for ways to help Charlie.
Sera adores Emily, I am sure that she wouldn't get punished. I on the other hand, Sera has been keeping a close eye on me. Criticizing me. Lute being tasked to watch my every move.
“Sera, this is utterly ridiculous! We should give those poor souls a second chance.” [Y/n] says, clenching her fists as she looked at Sera who was sitting on her chair inside the Seraphim office.
“That is enough, [y/n]. You keep this up and you'll end up fallen like Lucifer.” Sera said sternly, eyes glaring at the [y/n]. “You barely managed to escape that fate before, you could've fallen the same time as Lucifer but thankfully your actions weren't as severe as his.”
[y/n] slammed her fists against the table, angel eyes appearing on her wings with fury, “We aren't God, Sera! Who gave you the right to judge those sinners and claim they don't deserve a second chance?” she exclaimed.
Sera stood up from her seat, anger evident on her face. “Don't you dare raise your voice at me! You're on thin ice, [y/n]!”
[y/n] rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over chest, “What are you going to do? Huh? Kick me out of heaven?”
Sera's glare sharpened, patience running thin. “Keep that attitude up and you just might.”
“Lucifer doesn't deserve this treatment! You cursed him to not see the good of people! You cursed the people who have a chance to redeem themselves by taking their life! How does it feel that so much blood is spilled because of your decision?!” [y/n] asked angrily, tears running down her cheeks.
“We have our own souls to protect! This decision wasn't easy to make!” Sera remarked angrily, her wings spread out intimidatingly.
“Protect them from what?! As far as I know, it's only us angels who are a threat to them? If they do something that doesn't fit your standards or the elder's standards they are bound to fall from grace!” [y/n] says mockingly, rage and annoyance evident on both women's eyes.
“That's it, you've crossed the line!”
“You don't want to admit that I am right, angels are such selfish, greedy, and filthy creatures. I cannot believe I am associated with beings whose hands are stained with blood.”
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You know, falling doesn't seem so bad.
Strong and harsh winds are blowing against my back, thankfully I still have my wings. It is currently useless, unfortunately. I don't have the energy to flap them to save myself from the approaching pain.
After that argument with Sera, the higher seraphim thought I was already way out of line and disrespectful. I was placed on trial, handcuffed with the type of handcuffs that prevents me from using my angelic powers while it simultaneously sucked the energy out of me.
I was deemed guilty, shameful, and ungrateful and a threat to the order of heaven.
Tossed out of the pearly gates of heaven by none other than Adam, that asshole really grabbed me by the hair.
[y/n] sighs softly, vision blurring. Trying to focus it as she falls from grace. The skies looked so beautiful.
Lucifer would've loved these skies, we've stargazed during the night before. When he was still in heaven with me.
Lucifer, I can see Ursa Major tonight. Someday, I'll bring you back here on the surface and stargaze like we've always do. No matter how many stars are in the sky, you always take my attention. You're like my star, you shine so bright and so pure.
I'll join you in the pits of hell, I hope you didn't forget about me.
I should be happy that I'm finally leaving that god awful place.
Why am I so scared of falling to my demise?
For a moment, I can see a glimpse of how Lucifer felt when he fell from grace.
Terrifying.
[Y/n] closes her eyes as she finally goes past the Earth's crust. Ichor flowing out of her hands from the handcuffs she had to wear.
“I am not allowed to die, I still need to see him.” [y/n] murmurs before eventually crashing into the fiery grounds of hell, she fortunately crashed somewhere where there weren't any people, a wide space of nothing but dead trees, a hotel can be seen in the distance.
Pain, pain shot everywhere her body. She let out a sharp scream of pure pain. Blood spilled everywhere before she eventually passed out.
It didn't matter, the pain didn't matter. She's here now. She'll look for him or Charlie.
She doesn't know Charlie would find her first.
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END NOTES: YUHHH THEY'LL SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN IN THE NEXT UPDATEE
TAGLIST:
@n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya (I can't tag you </3) @many-fandoms-lover
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ellecdc · 8 months ago
Note
okay so I just wanted to start by saying I love you're moonwater stories so much.
Ive been thinking about this like paring ig for a bit and your recent moonwater story when r gets home from girls night just made me think of it more so if you're interested id love for you to do it.
Basically its like poly moonwater plus Barty ive been calling it moonwaterkiller in my head (idk if its already a ship or already has a name but I haven't been able to find anything) but basically I feel like r and Barty would be like a chaotic duo and reg and rem would just be like wtf a lot idk... I just think it has some potential and I just love your writing so fucking much.
(I also just love how you write Barty)
so if you're interested I think it would be cool
much love :)
I love the way your mind works babes. thanks for your request! (it's almost two am where I am so please forgive any awkward sentences or spelling mistakes). also, if I didn't completely lose everyone with my DeathStar fics - this may very well do it. && this was written with the help of our fabulous @unstablereader
poly!moonwater x chaotic fem!reader + Barty Crouch Junior
Regulus didn’t know whether to be concerned or slightly aroused at the slightly deranged way that Remus was stalking the halls in search of you and Barty. 
You and Regulus had both at one point or another been in a friends-with-benefits situation with Barty (albeit separately) during your time in school, before you and Regulus went and fell in love with a Gryffindor. 
Regulus still wasn’t quite over the humiliation; both of falling in love and falling in love with a Gryffindor.
Of course, you and Regulus both stayed friends with Barty; Regulus mostly because he couldn’t shake him (ignoring the fact that Regulus really was quite fond of his maniacal friend), and you because the two of you really were sort of two sides of the same hyperactive galleon. 
And though Remus (and sometimes Regulus) liked to pretend that yours and Barty’s friendship caused them grief, they couldn’t deny how much they valued Barty’s loyalty and devotion to his friends; specifically you. 
Regulus’ new favourite thing was easily Remus’ new found appreciation for Barty. 
Up until this point, Barty had been his notoriously flirty and salacious self when it came to the likes of Remus, who wasn’t yet accustomed to Barty’s unique…personality.
However, once Remus realised the history between his two partners and the other Slytherin boy, he quickly came to appreciate the kind of pull Barty could have on people.
So, Remus had started flirting back.
Barty hated it.
Regulus loved it.
You started keeping track of the number of times Remus reduced Barty to a blushing and stuttering mess in your notebook. 
Barty hated that too.
It was nearing curfew and Remus and Regulus hadn’t seen you all afternoon. 
Usually that was fine, considering you were a bit of a free spirit. What was concerning, however, was that they hadn’t seen Barty either.
Regulus watched as Remus checked the stupid map that his brother and their friends had created when his brows furrowed in confusion.
“What? Don’t tell me they’re in the middle of the Black Lake again?” Regulus asked quickly, moving to stand over Remus’ shoulder to peer at the map.
“Again?”
“Don’t ask.” Regulus muttered.
“But…doesn’t Barty not know how to swim?”
“I said don’t ask.”
Seeming to know better, Remus turned back and pointed towards the Ravenclaw common room on the map. “It says they’re up in Ravenclaw tower?”
“For fuck’s sake.” Regulus muttered, dragging a hand over his face.
“How’d two Slytherin’s manage to get into Ravenclaw tower?” Remus asked bemusedly, earning him an unimpressed glare from Regulus. 
“Remus, I love you, but that was perhaps the dumbest question you’ve ever asked me.”
Remus rolled his eyes as he closed the map and tucked it back into his trunk.
“Come on, we might be able to catch up to Pandora on her way up and have her help us in.” 
They had indeed caught up to Pandora, and Pandora had indeed helped them in, though it seemed to be for naught. 
“I thought your stupid map said they were here.” Regulus muttered as he surveyed the common room, unable to spot a single lick of green and silver.
“It’s not stupid and they are in here.” Remus muttered back, moving to stand in the dead centre of the room. 
“How do you know they’re here if you can’t see them?”
Remus glared at Regulus before looking around to ensure no one could hear them. “I can smell them.” He whispered.
Well Regulus just didn’t know what good these wolfy senses were if they were still out two Slytherin’s. 
“Shit.” Regulus heard whispered suddenly as a quill fell from the air and landed beside his foot.
Remus and Regulus both looked up to see you and Barty casually lounging in the chandelier above them.
“Are you sodding kidding me!?” Regulus shouted.
“I think our cover’s been blown.” You said simply to Barty as if you didn’t have two fuming and fretting boyfriends standing nearly forty feet give or take below you.
“Pity.” Barty responded as he peered down. “This was a nice refuge.”
“How’d you even get up there?” Remus cried, pacing like he was getting ready to catch you should you fall.
“Magic.” Barty taunted from above.
“Junior, so help me gods if that witch falls I-”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Lupin. I resent the insinuation that I would ever let anything happen to our sweet angel baby.” Barty bit back immediately.
“Okay, okay. Fair enough.” Remus acquiesced as if he were negotiating a hostage situation. “Why don’t you both just come down here, nice and slow, okay?”
Both you and Barty leaned forward to look down at the two boys, causing the chandelier to swing precariously.
“Fucking hells! Stop moving!” Remus shrieked, causing the attention of the few Ravenclaws sitting in the common room to look over.
“Such a worrier.” Barty muttered as he stood and started manoeuvring himself to the edge of the chandelier - you following him over and causing the chandelier to tip to a nearly 90 degree angle. 
“I’m going to be sick, I’m actually going to throw up right here.” Regulus muttered mostly to himself whilst Remus tried to stand directly underneath you lest you need to be caught. 
To Remus and Regulus’ absolute horror, Barty launched himself away from the chandelier, grabbing at the billowy banners hanging from the ceiling causing the chandelier to swing away from him like a pendulum. 
“JUNIOR!” Remus shouted, causing Barty to momentarily look shamefaced as he looked below him. 
As the chandelier swung towards the opposite wall, you too launched yourself at one of the billowy banners hanging from the ceiling and began monkey climbing down them.
“Can you make sure she doesn’t fall, please.” Remus barked at Regulus as he made his way towards Barty.
Barty let out a high pitched screech and began hastily making his way down the wall. “Run Treasure! Save yourself!” He shouted dramatically.
You turned quickly at that and saw Regulus making his way to you.
You let out a surprised squeak and hurried down, and before Regulus realised what you were doing, you had used your wand to open one of the windows and were shimmying out.
“Oi! What the-” but before Regulus could even shove his torso out the window, you’d managed to shift into your animagus form - a mink, which Regulus felt was very fitting considering what a sodding cheeky minx you were being right now - and began scaling your way down the side of the building.
Regulus was interrupted by the sound of a squeal - Remus’ squeal - and turned to see Remus hanging halfway out of the window in much the same fashion that Regulus had been.
Unlike Regulus, however, Remus had been successful in his capture of Barty and had him hanging from the tallest tower at Hogwarts by one of his arms.
“Junior! Are you trying to sodding kill me!?” Remus barked angrily at him, trying to pull Barty up without any help from Barty himself.
Barty looked up at Remus with all the innocence he could muster (read: none) and winked. 
“Catch me if you can, Mr. Wolf.”
And Barty shrunk into his own animagus form - an osprey - and let out a cry before swooping down to pick up something that looked suspiciously like a mink from the eaves of one of the lower towers and took off towards the grounds. 
“Fucking son of a bitch.” Remus cursed as he tried catching his breath, still sitting half out of the Ravenclaw window. “Why do we put up with those two?”
Regulus shrugged with all the nonchalance he could muster. “‘Cause they’re cute?”
Remus sighed and hit his head against the windowsill. “They’re so sodding lucky that they are…”
“Come on.” Regulus said, offering Remus a hand and helping him out of the window. “Unfortunately, I know exactly where they went.”
Barty loved nothing more than the feeling of his feet sinking into the sediment of the Black Lake below his feet. He also loved the feeling of being near you, his Treasure. He also loved the idea of two handsome men frantically searching for you, and him by proxy.
All this to say, Barty was having a really nice night.
“Junior!”
Barty’s face morphed into a Cheshire cat grin as he turned towards the voice of the man and his boyfriend as they stormed towards the waters edge.
“Well hello, Lupin. How nice of you to join us; care for a dip?”
“Get out of the water.” Regulus drawled in a bored tone.
“Why would I do such a thing? The water’s lovely, I’m in wonderful company, and we’re going to feed the Giant Squid.” He argued.
“Barty.” Remus barked with all the severity he could manage. “You don’t know how to swim.”
Barty scoffed indignantly. “Yeah, well…neither can Reggie!”
“That’s why I’m standing on the shore you absolute bell-end.” Regulus countered quickly.
Remus turned his furious gaze into a bemused one as he took in Regulus. “Do you really not know how to swim either?”
“None of us can!” You shouted from your disturbingly deeper place within the lake as the gentle waves nearly lapped against your skirt.
“Oh, for the love of- you know what? This summer, everyone’s getting swimming lessons.” Remus proclaimed.
“Ou, does that mean I get to see you in your swim trunks, Lupin?” Barty called.
Remus, without missing a beat, started towards Barty, walking into the lake in his shoes and all. “You could see me right now, in less, for free, Junior. You only had to ask.”
Barty let out a screech and tried running towards you, albeit in slow motion on account of the water’s resistance. “Y/N! Treasure! Help! Make him stop!”
“No can do, bubs.” You called back in monotone, still throwing chunks of bread towards the middle of the Lake in hopes of eliciting the company of one Giant Squid. 
“Dove, you’re going to catch a cold; get out of the water.” Remus called to you, pants soaked up to his knees after giving up on chasing Barty in the water.
“We’re trying to make friends!” You whined.
“You cannot make friends with a squid, amour. He will eat you.” Regulus explained from the shore. 
“He wouldn’t eat his friend.” You scoffed. 
“Dove.” Remus barked again.
“I want to see the the big water kitty!” You whined again, turning towards the boys and offering the most pathetic pout you could muster.
Regulus scoffed from his place, still dry on the shore, Remus let out a pained sigh, and Barty all but skipped towards you. 
“A valiant death it will be!” He cheered before he felt the fabric of his jumper being summoned by an accio, dragging him unceremoniously through the water towards Remus.
“No! Ah! AH! STRANGER DANGER. STRANGER DANGER!” He shrieked as Remus threw him over his shoulder.
“Okay, well, now you’re just showing off, Lupin.” He muttered, crossing his arm petulantly as Remus held his free hand out to you.
“Dove, please? Come inside with me?”
You looked distressed at this and moved obediently towards Remus. “Are you mad at me?” You asked timidly.
Barty could actually feel Remus’ body soften beneath him as he allowed some of his tension to dissipate. “Of course not, dovey. I love you.”
You leaned over and pecked a kiss to the corner of his mouth before turning into your animagus mink and swimming to the shore, crawling up Regulus’ pant leg (who admonished you in faux contempt for ruining his trousers), and allowed him to carry you back to the castle. 
Barty was feeling petulant about the whole matter of being chased and chastised so decided then that he was going to force Remus to carry him all the way back to the castle in silence.
Unfortunately for Barty, he hated silence.
He was at least proud he’d made it to the dungeons before giving up on his vow of silence.
“You’re really not upset with her?” Barty asked quietly from his current prison. He could feel Remus’ head tilt in confusion, though his steps never faltered.
“Of course not?” He responded as a question.
“Hmmm.” Barty said, racking his brain for something to upset or fluster this man.
“Oh! What about me having slept with both your boyfriend and your girlfriend?”
“What about it?” Remus asked plainly. 
“Well…aren’t you upset about that?”
Remus scoffed and adjusted his grip on Barty, hand’s migrating none too innocently up the back of his thighs. “Junior. The only thing I’m upset about is that you haven’t slept with all three of us. I don’t like feeling left out, you know?”
Barty made a strangled sound as he struggled in Remus’ grip to no avail, causing you and Regulus to chuckle from a few strides ahead as you all stepped into the Slytherin common room.
“We told you he was smooth, Barty.” You chuckled.
“You should hear him in bed.” Regulus taunted, reaching over to pinch Barty’s arse, causing him to yelp and start cursing at him.
Remus relented and put Barty down, who immediately made for Regulus’ throat.
“Easy, Junior.” Remus chuckled, pulling him back by the shoulder. “You wanna keep Reg around, don’t you?”
Barty harrumphed and crossed his arms indignantly.
“We’d like to keep you around.” Remus continued.
Barty grumbled again and let out a quiet. “Fine.”
Remus beamed at him, which was very alarming if you asked Barty, as they stepped into his and Regulus’ shared dorm; Rosier and Avery were already asleep in their beds with their curtains drawn.
“Yeah? You’ll let us keep you?” Remus asked.
“I said fine, Lupin.” He bit back.
“Great. So we’re in a relationship then.” He explained simply, causing Barty to level him with a severe glare. “How dare you, Lupin. Never say such vile things to me again.” He spat before storming towards the boy’s bathroom.
Regulus groaned and grabbed his own toiletries before making his way to the washroom behind him. “I’ll go make sure he doesn’t try to drown himself in the shower again.”
Remus shook his head and changed into his pyjamas before climbing into Regulus’ bed and pulling you towards him.
“So, explain this to me, Dove. Why is Barty the way he is?”
You snorted a laugh and turned to face him. “You’re going to have to be way more specific, love.”
Remus chuckled and ran his hands up and down your back. “He likes Reg. He loves you. He seems sweet on me. We invite him to be ours and he accepts - but runs when we make it mean something?”
You smiled up at your boyfriend and booped his nose with a perfectly manicured finger - which Remus found very confusing considering you spend your spare time scaling the rafters of grand ceilings and enticing Giant Squids from their hiding places. “Barty doesn’t understand, Rem. He wouldn’t know love if it punched him right in the face.”
Remus could feel his brows furrow and he pulled you in tighter to his chest. “Dove…love doesn’t punch you in the face?”
Apparently that had been the wrong thing to say as you rolled your eyes in exasperation and threw your head back onto the pillow. “You see? That’s the kind of thing someone who grew up loved would know.”
It’s not that Remus ever really forgot to worry about you per se, but he sometimes really worried about you Purebloods. 
At some point in the night, you had apparently decided Remus and Regulus’ bed was too hot and moved to Barty’s. Remus would have been slightly more petulant about the matter if he hadn’t thought you looked absolutely precious with Barty resting his head on your chest.
He looked so innocent in his sleep.
Sleep clearly didn’t know him very well.
Remus was shocked when the four of you entered the Great Hall for breakfast and Barty actually followed you three to the Gryffindor table. Though Remus was trying to play it cool, he couldn’t help but feel a flutter of hope surge within him at what that might mean for the three four of you.
Remus was just about to bite into his toast when a sultry voice sounded from behind Barty.
“Hello, Bartemus.” Amelia Bones sing-songed as she trailed a finger up Barty’s arm.
His brows furrowed almost comically from above the rim of his coffee cup before he slowly lowered it and turned to consider the Hufflepuff.
“Bones. Can I help you?” He asked, punctuating the word help as he plucked her fingers from his being between his two fingers as if he’d found something really quite disgusting on his person.
“I was thinking, you could help me, perhaps tonight?”
Barty turned to look at her incredulously.
“Help with what, Amelia? I’m really quite busy.” He spat, gesturing wildly to his cup of coffee. 
“An orgasm or two? Gods, you’re pissy in the mornings.”
Barty scoffed, sounding completely scandalised as he clutched at non-existent pearls adorning his neck. “I am sitting here with my beloveds, Amelia. For shame. You see this lot? I’m theirs, capiche?” 
Amelia looked bemusedly at the group of you before shaking her head in confusion. “Whatever you say, Junior.”
She moseyed on away, and Barty turned back towards his cup of coffee. “The gall of some people, honestly.” He said in exasperation, downing the rest of his still hot coffee and standing unceremoniously.
“Well, I best be off. Things to fuck up, people to scare. Tah-tah.” He called, pressing a quick kiss to your hair as he left the Great Hall.
Suddenly, realisation dawned on Remus.
“Ah, I see. So no to a relationship, but he is ours.”
You and Regulus chorused a hum of acknowledgement. 
“That’s just how Barty operates. You’ll get used to it.” You explained, still not looking up from the Daily Prophet you had been reading all this time.
Remus didn’t mind getting used to that; not if it meant he managed to get everything he wanted.
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coffee-and-tea-time · 4 months ago
Text
𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Out of the menu, still the choice ๋࣭ ⭑
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Yandere! Shopkeeper x Willing! Reader
We finally got a winner! *Clap clap* if you want context, you can go here but it's not that necessary we think - the twins
This mf was really more hard to write that I expected but nevertheless we tried to match the energy of the seller pickers so at least it was really fun ngl - Coffee
It took us both a while to draft what we wanted to write for him since he's not a very expressive character and we wanted to try a more subtle approach. If you have any ideas or suggestions for any of them, let us know!! -Tea
Count word: 3.1k (new longest post for now)
Tw: yandere behavior, kind of flirty reader, stalking, kidnaping?, written in you/yours, overall soft yandere, gaslighting, drugging (this really still counts as soft yandere??? believe me, yes), light paranoia, clueless reader
Your eyes scan the papers in your hand, your mind still focused rather on the man that handed you them, sitting right across from him, more specifically, the comment he just murmured. None of the people he mentioned called your attention as much as himself did, perhaps he was more that he presented himself as? He seemed to know much more about you than he’s supposed to, so, was he a yandere as well? And if so, Why miss the chance to tease a potential yandere? 
"Huh, so you think I should go out more often?"
"Well, I'm just concerned about your vitamin D intake, that's all. You need more sun Dear, for the sake of your health"
He smugly smirks at you like he's saying obvious facts that you should already know about yourself… though his smirk falters, his lips pressing into a tight line as he rethinks his words, though it was too late to retract them, it was your time to shine.
"Oh? Then why not help me with that yourself? You seem to keep a good track of my time outside for some reason, care to explain yourself, Honey?"
You steal his previous smirk, it now decorating your lips, curving them upwards smugly as he seems to sink into himself, his pen flipping between his fingers as a nervous fidget, scanning your expression, seemingly trying to understand what you were attempting to do with these witty remarks.
“Dear, allow me to remind you, you came all the way here to have an obsessive partner after you walk out this door, I'm sure anyone in the list will love to fulfill the job, sadly, I'm not one of them, I'm deeply sorry if my previous comments left any space for this misunderstanding"
He seems to lifts up a wall between you and him with his formality as if attempting to keep things formal and cordial though his eyes tell a different story, his eyes, akin to a snake’s narrow slightly, scanning your features as if daring you to continue this charade; a sweet chill runs down your spine, which only widens your smile further.
"Ow, come on, there's no need to lie so blatantly to my face, you know exactly why I'm here, and for that I can also tell exactly what is happening here”
He huffs, his fingers running through his black hair, messing up his slick back hairstyle into something much more fitting to match with his semi-formal attire.
"As I just said, I'm not a yandere, let's stop this little game, Dear, I’m not sure how you arrived at this conclusion, little detective…"
Those gray eyes glare at you without even missing a beat, narrowing further to make a subtle warning: quit fooling around. Do you care? No, honestly, him staring down at you only serves to fuel your burning curiosity about the man.
"Fine then, at least answer me this, how did you know i don't go out much?"
The man scoffs as if the answer was as obvious as looking in a mirror.
"Come on now, you are chronically online, I just made a lucky guess"
… Gotcha
"My screen time is something even weirder for you to know for certain though, don't you think?"
A silence ensues, tension and realization thick in the air as his posture changes completely, from relaxed and smug to tense and anxious, he leans forward, eyes avoiding you suddenly, like he wasn't piercing you with his stare just a few seconds ago.
You let your question linger, knowing you won, knowing he had no way to protest your question seamlessly 
"... don't tell management"
It was now your turn to sigh. Perhaps he was being truthful and this was just a big misunderstanding. Maybe his “background check” on you wasn't something he was supposed to do ethically speaking, but something he felt compelled to do. Then again, they did have this incident with a fool attempting to illegitimately make a yandere harem. Perhaps it was time to let this go, you tried at least, but being overly pushy could get you kicked out and leaving empty handed wasn't something you were willing to do after finally finding the courage to enter the shop.
 "Well, I don't know, I choose Oliver"
You said, the smirk in your lips faltering into a soft defeated smile, shrugging as you chose someone at random, pointing blindly at the papers.
"He's already purchased" 
He counters your response abruptly, his tone still formal yet with an air of defensiveness. You wondered, if he was already purchased, then why show it to you at all?
"Damn, okay, then Lio…"
You quickly point again at a random profile, barely even reading the name then scanning his expression, his head shaking even before you managed to pronounce the name fully.
"Sorry"
He responded with a shrug, his shoulders relaxing as if the tension he felt before was gone.
You smile at him once again, well, thankfully you weren't just flirting with the wrong target.
"You’re doing this on purpose"
You announce, amused by the realization, a smile widening in your lips as one seems to simultaneously tug at the corners of his, a mischievous grin adorning his sly stare, those eyes bearing into yours like a wicked fox.
"You choose me, be loyal to your own decisions… though, really, don't tell management. I do maintain I'm not some sort of obsessed maniac, Dear"
That's the most suspicious thing a person can say in a yandere shop but you take it.
"I care next to nothing about management… so, it's a date?".
(...)
You leave the store, hands empty, but not really. You walk with an extra cheer in your step, you managed to get yourself a date with the seller of the damn shop, not one of the many names in those papers, but the shopkeeper, talk about a plot twist. 
And so you make your way back home, waiting for the time to arrive, the time in which you'd meet up with the man outside of work in a sweet little restaurant down the same street where the shop is located. As you get yourself ready, checking your outfit, double checking…triple checking, your mind drifts to your conversation with the seller and the way everything he said seemed to avoid each and every one of your questions skillfully. You managed to get his number with the excuse of arranging the meeting time and place, yet… that was all, you didn't even get his name, did you?. 
You are brought back to reality with the buzzing of your phone, a notification from an unknown number… though it was the sellers, how did he get your number? Sure, he gave you his, but he shouldn't have a way to contact you yet, that information wasn't even in the paperwork either since you never filled any forms out, you didn't purchase any of the yanderes. 
» “Hey, it's the shopkeeper”
You raised a brow at your screen, watching as the little dots bobbed up and down, indicating he was still typing another message
» “just checking if you're still up for this date you so boldly proposed. My shift is over” 
His texts are a little dry, yet you can feel the awkwardness from them already, he wasn't fooling anybody, he was nervous as hell. 
You quickly type up a response, resuming your teasing over text like you never left the shop and so you text back and forth until the time arrives and you leave your home, walking down the street to the restaurant he sent you the location to. Once you got there, amusement tugged your lips up into a smile. This man, acting so unapproachable, so closed off, was eagerly waiting outside the restaurant with that classic “I'm just looking at my phone” stance, but damn he looked good. 
He wasn't wearing that semi-formal suit from before, but rather a tight black shirt, jeans and a jacket. His hair was down and you had to admit, it looked way better that way. You check the time on your phone, you arrive just in time, you look relieved but can’t help but wonder how the seller managed to close up shop, go back home, change and arrive before you when his last text was just a few minutes ago telling you his shift was over.
“aw, you arrived early to meet me? It’s so cute how eager you are for someone who didn't even tell me his name”
You meet his gaze as you approach him with a playful demeanor, his smile still decorating his face as always.
He huffs, glancing up from his phone, his eyes crinkling in a mischievous grin. He pockets his phone and adjusts his jacket, leaning a little closer as he speaks
“Oh, Dear, you got it all wrong, i just got here, but, i must say…waiting would have been worth it, you look stunning” 
He said with a soft chuckle and you nudged his shoulder in response to his compliment, though as you nudge him you feel how cold his jacket is, of course he didn't wait for you
“Right, anyways, you know, it's only fair that I get your name. I know you so desperately want to seem all mysterious and shit, but i need to know who I'm flirting with”
You tease bluntly with a chuckle, he tenses up a little, looking away for a second, trying to disguise his blush by rolling his eyes at you.
“I suppose you could call me Jade…”
“Well, jade, pleasure to meet you”
You said trying to imitate his tone of voice as he guides the way inside the restaurant.
“Since I answered your question, it's only fair you answer mine, don't you agree?"
His gaze seems like he's taking notes of your every expression as he gently pulls a chair for you to sit on before he sits across from you.
"Are we doing a little bit of banter here? Huh, that's quite the contrary of what you been doing all day, but please, go on, I'm thrilled to know what you wish to know of me"
His eyes move to the menu, although you can say his entire focus was still on you… because of the fact he can't possibly read the menu when it's upside down.
"So, if I may ask… why did you choose to flirt with me when you came to the shop to get yourself a yandere?"
"Why not? You could say I went there to find someone that catches my eye, and jokes on you, my eyes were set on you the moment you opened that door to guide me into the store"
You restrain yourself not to giggle like a fool when the top of his ears turns red while he's attempting to keep his perpetually smiling facade, oblivious to his own reaction to your words.
"Then, do yo-"
His words quickly die on his throat as a waiter gets to your table, you didn't have the time to catch the small twitch of his eyebrows that lasted a second.
"Good evening, I will be your server for the night, what can I get started for you two?"
As you two order normally, you can't help but feel a sense of discomfort as the waiter always speaks focusing his eyes on you, but Jade doesn't seem to react so you dismissed it, you're only feeling weird because of the awkwardness of being on a first date, although you can't help but sigh faintly with relief after the server walks away.
"Well… anyways, since I replied to one of your questions, guess it's my turn!"
You said smiling, trying to brush off the weird feeling you just had, focusing on your task in hand: the date.
“so, why don’t you tell me a little about your hobbies?”
You gaze at him while his head tilts slightly, as if doubting if to reply or just dodge the question like the past ones.
“Well, they differ depending on the time, I’m the type of person that get a new one every once in a while but one that has stuck since high school is embroidery”
Honestly, you can picture it, he does seem like the type of person who enjoys calm classy hobbies, old lady hobbies if you will. The image is sort of endearing. 
"Since high school? Wow, what was your first piece?"
You feel relieved that he seems more open to conversation now that you both are formally on this date. Sadly for you and lucky for him, you focused so much on listening to his answers that you didn't catch the small blush dusting his cheeks.
"...It was a skull, edgy, I know. I really like how it turned out back then though”
“A skull? Very edgy indeed, why-”
Your question was left hanging in the air as an arm interfered with your vision of Jade, the waiter placing your plates on the table with a polite smile. The interjection was a little awkward, but there's not much you can do about it, the waiter is just doing his job.
Though as you lower your voice to a stop, interrupted by the waiter, you see the slight hint of annoyance in Jade’s face flick for a second just to disappear like it never happened, it makes you wonder if that was a hint of jealousy? It probably wasn't… your yandere rotten brain must be seeing things, right?
As you two indulge in conversation, enjoying your little date, you almost lose track of time. It feels like in the blink of an eye, the date was already at its final point, the only thing that popped your bubble was his phone ringing.
"...sorry, it's my boss, allow me to step out real quick, it won't take long I'm sure"
You nod to him before he makes his way to the restroom to pick up the call. Honestly you feel kind of sad that the dinner was reaching its end but well, you can't be that clingy on the first date.
As you ponder between when and where the perfect second date will be or if it's best to wait for him to ask for another, the waiter interrupts your thoughts, placing a glass of what looks like raspberry juice on the table.
"Excuse me sir, I didn't order this"
The waiter gives you a puzzled expression as if it were a competition who is more confused by the situation but is quick to giggle as if it was an inside joke of his before reassuring you.
"Oh, don't worry, it's already been paid”
You didn't have time to ask further questions when the busy server was already on another table that needed him, well, it looks tasty anyways, why reject something when it's free?
You honestly feel like luck is on your side today; you got the confidence to try and flirt with Jade and successfully get yourself a really good date! And you also get a free drink as a way to celebrate your little achievement, so you take a big gulp. 
Huh? Weird, you know the taste of raspberry by heart, why does it taste more bitter? Ugh, the fruit is probably not that fresh , even the consistency feels a little thicker too. Well, raspberry juice is supposed to be like that, perhaps you got too used to store bought and got yourself confused.
"Well, is not like a restaurant would sell 'expired juice' as their main drink, surely I'm just overthinking it" 
You reason with yourself in a whisper as you set the drink aside, ugh, maybe you drank too big of a sip, you start to feel like you got brain freeze or something.
(…)
“Dear, are you feeling well? Do you need to go to the restroom?”
The sound of his relaxed voice quickly fills your ears, your mind feels hazy but you nevertheless try focusing on him as he sits back down to the table, catching his expression changing from the usual laid back grin to a worried frown. You didn't even notice when he came back from his work call, not until he was right in front of you, it's like time passed while your brain was stopped, something wasn't good…
"Did something happen? Do you need a pain-killer? Did the food upset your stomach?"
The rapid fire questions overfill your already overwhelmed mind as his hands hold your shoulders before he places his forehead against yours to check your temperature and although you tried, your currently unstable self only managed to hardly mumble some words.
"I… don't know, I just drank that"
You focus your gaze on the glass of juice and he follows your gaze with a frown as if his laid back mask is cracked.
"the color is slightly off and ice is only floating up to the middle of the glass…"
Was there really something wrong with your drink? What was in there? How bad is it? What's going to happen to you? Was it the waiter? Was there someone in the restaurant you didn't see? Why is this happening today?
"Dear, focus on me, okay? Don't worry, you're fine, just dizzy, I will make sure you are okay, alright? Take a deep breath for me darling" 
Through your dizziness you watch as he moves skillfully and quickly, paying the bill as fast as he could to take you out of there, his arms tightly wrapped around you to steady your wobbly stance, guiding you out of the busy restaurant. It's almost as if you were drunk, which didn't make sense, you felt yourself slipping further out of your senses, sounds muffled and your vision blurry, your legs and hands feeling tingly with each step you took with his assistance. 
"Jade, I-"
"Don't worry Dear, I will take care of you, just trust me, alright?"
You can help but feel grateful that even in this awful situation, you managed to have someone so gentle and caring with you, but before you can try to babble a thank you, you feel your mind shut off like an old tv… don't worry, you are being taken care of, Dear.
He just wants to look after you, it would be so creepy if he left you unconscious at your place since he's not supposed to know your address yet, so, guess the only choice is him letting you crash at his apartment, it's fine, you will find yourself at home there, it's really cozy! 
. . .
Wait, did you really believe him? That's kind of hilarious, try guessing again.
sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣
images from pinterest and divider by Tea ⚘
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thehauntedetheral · 4 months ago
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Can we get a yandere baker x reader pls?? 😭🙏 Thank you for your good stories like always
Thank you so much for your love. I hope you like this fic.
Yandere Baker
Requests are open !
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• You got a new job. The same boring sitting in your cubicle and working on a screen. But the best part about your new job is a Bakery near your office.
• You were a regular customer there since the starting of your job as you have a strong sweet tooth. And on top of that their baked goods are so delicious that they are your new addiction now. They make the best pastries according to you.
• You go their everyday even on weekends as your house is near the office for their sweet treats that now the owner of the cozy bakery is your friend who always greets you with a cute smile. And not to forget that the baker himself was a treat for eyes with his apron, good looks, messy hairs and a boyish smile.
• Yan baker who has been owning this bakery for quite some years and is always busy with many customer. But you ... You are just awesome. The way your eyes sparkle while looking at all the baked goods kept at display, the way your face is glowing with a happy smile and vibes when you take the first bite of your pastry. This all makes him fall for you like a crazy.
• He always gives you freshly baked treats for free saying you are his "favourite customer."
• Always give you discount saying that this is for their all regular customers when in reality such thing doesn't exist.
• When he gets to know you love a specific pastry always make sure to bake them for you often even though it doesn't sell much.
• Bakes the most beautiful looking and delicious cake of your favourite icing and toppings for your birthday as a surprise.
• He loves weekends more because you stay at the bakery longer sipping coffee, reading book while enjoying coffee due to no office.
• One day you didn't came to the bakery which was very unusual so he goes to your house with a box of your favourites only to find out you are sick. (Yes this man and you spend time and talk so much in bakery that you both know a lot about each other even address. It's like you are best buddies.)
• Upon finding you sick he takes care of you and cook for you. This man's cooking skills are fantastic just like his baking skills.
• Names his new pastry after you. And also to mention that you were the first one to taste it.
• Yan once heard you saying that you wanted to learn baking one day. So after few weeks this man opens a baking class for afternoon weekends just for you to join. Tries his best to make you join his class.
• You asked him how all of a sudden he started classes. He only replies with "I love baking and I wanted my afternoons on weekends to get occupied by something".
• He is the happiest in the class teaching a bunch of people because you are their and his baking. His favourite person and thing to do of his under one roof.
• You and him would enjoy doing baking while dancing, singing to the music put on after class. (Some Kind of your own personal baking class 🤭). Yan would just stare looking at you doing all this thinking he is so lucky to even be near you.
• This man is so badly down for you. Your one smile or compliment on his baking he would becomes a puddle of blushing happiness .
• After mustering up enough courage he finally knocks at your door holding your favourite cake in his hand freshly baked by him and a question written with icing on it "Will you go on a date with me? Yes or absolutely yes"
• Well after all how could you say no to such a tempting offer including a delicious cake with a good looking baker holding it, right?
Requests are open!
Part 2 :
For more yandere reading:
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55szn · 7 months ago
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lacy - mv1
max verstappen x fem!driver!reader
summary yn can't keep hiding her true feelings towards max
wc 1,6 k (i was supposed to keep it short for this one but oh well)
warnings this one angsty as fuuuck, reader kinda sucks sorry
a/n first post of this series omg i'm so excited!!!!!! i haven't written in a while so this may not be the best of my works but this is still one of my favorites <33 also english is not my first language so...yeah
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YN sighed as she pulled the balaclava off and immediately ran her hand through her sweaty hair, attempting to make it look decent. Once again she was finishing behind Max. The Dutch looked back at her as he got down from the top of his car and gave her a sweet smile, she tried her best to reciprocate that smile but it probably looked as fake as it felt.
She couldn't really pinpoint when her rotten mind had started to harbor these feelings towards the man she loved.
YN's first encounter with Max occurred when they were barely teenagers, amid the noisy circuits of karting competitions. There was something captivating in that lanky and slightly awkward teenager that drew YN to him like a magnet. As time went on, their bond deepened, among endless talks of shared dreams that seemed unreachable at the time.
The first time Max kissed YN, she felt in heaven, enveloped in a kind of excitement she had never known. It didn't take long before he asked her to be his girlfriend and she accepted thinking life couldn't get better than that.
The mutual decision to keep their relationship under wraps seemed obvious, a conscious choice made as they started their parallel journeys into Formula 1, that was not the kind of attention they were seeking.
She felt true happiness for Max's overwhelming success, she truly did, at least at the beginning.
But YN found herself caught in the shadow of his success, a place she hadn't anticipated occupying. Eventually every podium celebration and victory lap, served as a bitter reminder of the expectations she was failing to meet. She couldn't acknowledge these feelings so she masked this resentment beneath a facade of congratulatory smiles and kisses. The press was no help. They endlessly compared their careers and although YN had managed to get some satisfying results, she was nowhere near Max's level. They ate it up, it gave them good headlines to pit them against the other. They were the embodiment of a tantalizing narrative – two very young drivers with great success in the lower categories, shared dreams and a seemingly unbreakable "friendship", both coming into F1 with good teams and high expectations but only one of them was reaching those expectations. It was a good story, sure. But the story was tearing YN apart.
Perhaps the tipping point arrived with a very specific headline, its words forever etched into her brain: "Max Verstappen: Vettel reincarnate." With each syllable, YN's throat constricted, her stomach twisting into knots. Max seemed to effortlessly get everything she ever yearned for, now he was getting put at the same level as her biggest idol and inspiration which proved to be too much to handle for her. And with each of his accomplishments the poisonous seed of envy took root within her heart.
It was so contradictory, when she finally admitted it to herself. She loved Max more than she loved herself and maybe that was the root of the problem, her own insecurities and bruised ego. But it was becoming impossible to fake a smile every time she saw him on that top step. She knew it wasn't true but she almost felt like Max was out to get her.
She hated Max. And she hated herself for that fact. How could one harbor so much love and hatred for someone at the same time?
She was loosing her mind, her fragile facade crumbling under the weight of her emotions. Of course the ever attentive eyes of the press and the fans noticed the way her once adoring glances towards Max were now replaced with icy stares. How she couldn't even make the effort to raise the corners of her mouth whenever Max complimented her skills or her racing. His tenders words of admiration which once felt like a warm summer breeze began to feel like bullets grazing her already wounded skin, they felt like mockery. It was only a matter of time until Max started noticing this too.
Something was clearly happening, and that's why he found himself knocking on her apartment's door late at night, the echoes of the particularly hard weekend YN had endured still reverberating through his mind. The bitter taste of failure and disappointment still lingered on her lips. YN had struggled with the car and couldn't even make it out of Q2, and Sunday's race offered little reprieve, finishing in a P11 that tasted of unfulfilled expectations. While, of course, Max had made a brilliant pole position and had won the race, once again making everyone worship the ground he walked on. He hadn't seen YN since the race finished. She flew back to Mónaco that same night without even letting him know and without even asking if he wanted to fly back with her, which was the case almost every weekend. Max wasn't stupid, he could tell something was up with her lately, the distance she was putting between them, he was loosing her. And he loved her too much to let her go without a fight.
The door creaked open, YN's figure against the dim lighting within. Her jealous eyes clouded with heavy feelings. She stepped aside wordlessly, allowing Max to enter, her silence was louder that any word could ever be.
He carefully walked in, the all too familiar environment of his girlfriend's apartment suddenly feeling cold and foreign. Max was tense before taking a seat on the armrest of her couch. His heart felt heavy, he already wanted to cry. He had trouble getting the words out, something that had never happened in the years he had known YN. What had they become?
He swallowed dry before finally finding his voice. "I think we need to have a talk." His gaze was pleading for her to meet his eyes, but she kept staring at her shoes.
She froze at his words and her fingers tightened around the edge of the table she was leaning against. She could tell this conversation was coming, yet she dreaded the flood of emotions threatening to consume her, scared of the things she could say.
"What is it, Max?" Her voice was strained, an inner battle developing inside her, trying to control her emotions.
"You know what it is about, schat." Her jaw tightened at the pet name, now it somehow sounded condescending, even though deep down she knew that wasn't true. "YN something's been bothering you lately. I know it. Please talk to me."
YN's heart clenched painfully at his words, her resolve crumbling under the weight of her own inner turmoil. How could she even begin to articulate the burning envy and resentment that coursed through her veins every time she looked at him? How could she admit out loud to hating the man she loved more than life itself?
When she finally looked up and met his stare she felt the monstrous feeling that had been gnawing at her conscience completely engulf her and she wasn't in control of her own words anymore. Her eyes burning with a contradictory mix of longing and loathing. "Are you seriously asking me that, Max?" Her voice trembled with suppressed emotion.
Max recoiled at the intensity of her stare and her tone, a sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach by the anticipatory feeling of his world crumbling down completely. "YN, I..."
"You know damn well what's going on." YN's voice cracked with emotion, her words laced with a bitterness that made it unrecognizable to both of them. "You have everything, Max. The wins, the championships, the adoration of the whole fucking world. Everything I ever wanted, you took it for yourself." She knew she wasn't making sense, the words were spilling out of her mouth before she had the time to catch them.
Max's heart constricted with an unfair amount of guilt. "YN, I... I had no idea you felt this way."
"And why would you?" She retorted, her voice rising with each word. "You're too busy basking in your own glory to notice how much it's killing me to be constantly compared to you." That wasn't his fault, and she knew it. It was the pure and evil hatred that consumed her that was speaking those words.
He felt like he had been punched in the gut. "I'm sorry." He shouldn't have to apologize for what he accomplished after years and years of hard work, yet he did, the fear of loosing her bigger than the need to acknowledge his self worth.
The hurt mirroring in his eyes was obvious, her tone softened before she spoke again. "You don't have to apologize, Max. You deserve it, you deserve it so much. I know that and you should too." She took a sharp breath in. "But knowing that doesn't change how I feel. I...I hate you."
He looked at her, stunned. His heart plummeted to his stomach. Her words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their meaning.
"I do. I hate you Max. I hate you for being able to get everything I've only ever dared to dream of." She couldn't believe she was admitting it to Max's face, breaking the heart of the man she claimed to love.
Max felt as though the ground had been ripped out from under him, the sting of her words cutting deeper than any wound ever could. "I can't believe you're saying this," he mumbled, his voice chocked.
"I wish I didn't have to Max but I can't bear to keep lying to your face. I wish I could just pretend like everything's okay, like I'm still happy for you. But I can't, I'm sorry." YN's voice cracked with the weight of her confession, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at him with a strange mix of love and loathing. "I love you too much to keep lying to you."
The silence was sepulcral, years and years of shared moments full of love completely destroyed by the sick envy that had infected YN.
But the truth is, their love was doomed from the beginning.
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tossawary · 4 months ago
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It's very ironic to get comments on "Scum Villain" fics that are essentially revenge fantasies against certain characters, given... uh... everything about "Proud Immortal Demon Way" and how the story of SVSSS interacts with that in-universe story.
Sometimes, it's mildly amusing. Sometimes, it's a little disturbing, depending on how violent and disproportionate the fantasy is, because even if I've written some villain as a real asshole, I don't want to open my inbox to people wishing death and gory violence on anyone. A couple times, it took me a hot second to figure out that the violent fantasy wasn't directed at ME specifically.
Thankfully, that extremism is quite rare, so it's more often people wishing milder physical pains or, uh, complete social humiliation on certain characters, sometimes just for the "crime" of being mild inconveniences or slightly unfriendly to the fic's protagonist. Most of the time, I assume this is some form of playful exaggeration on the commenter's part, a reader exorcising mild annoyance at a fictional antagonist and expressing some sympathy or compassion for the hurt protagonist. A reader mentioning they kind of want to see a character grovel pathetically for forgiveness only to get kicked in the face is not necessarily a reader who wants that revenge fantasy to actually happen in the story.
Sometimes, though, it is hard to tell if someone genuinely thinks that all of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect should be destroyed because Luo Binghe was abused or Shang Qinghua was overworked. Like, I sure hope this is just hyperbole! I sure hope that you don't honestly think that "an eye for an eye" or "I take two of your eyes and also your tongue because you took one of my eyes" are, like, reasonable justice policies! I sure hope that you don't sincerely think that collective punishment is in any way a good thing and that a random junior disciple on the tenth peak (who probably doesn't even know who Luo Binghe is) deserves to suffer because the original Shen Qingqiu was a really shitty person.
But revenge fantasies like "Proud Immortal Demon Way" are popular for a reason, so I can never quite be sure! In every fandom, you have Peerless Cucumbers demanding that villain characters be castrated or killed for being abusive pricks, who cheer on the fictional revenge fantasy of hurting someone ten times as much as they hurt you, and some fans would be absolutely horrified by that kind of "retribution" in real life and others would... cheer that real life "punishment" on as well.
I don't really have a strong point to make with this post! This post is too long to be a casual reminder: "Hey, I hope you're always keeping in mind that messages you send on the internet are being directly received by real people who 1) can't read your tone and 2) don't know your 'real life' opinions to immediately know if you're joking." And I'm focused more here on how amusingly ironic this type of commenting is in regards to SVSSS and PIDW specifically.
Like, it's fun sometimes to get a little "Peerless Cucumber" about our favorite protagonists! (Shen Yuan said a lot of shit on the internet about PIDW but apparently generally doesn't really want people in SVSSS to suffer.) But once your revenge fantasy starts getting a little too detailed in regards to public humiliation and social ruin, torture and dismemberment, arson and leaving someone to get eaten alive by fire ants, making everyone who ever mildly slighted you beg for their life at your feet... It's like, "Bro, I don't think this comment is even Peerless Cucumber levels anymore. You are straight-up getting into original Luo Binghe territory here."
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eroscomet · 1 month ago
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Make it Right
Chapter two- Hauting for Home
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Paring: Astrid Deetz x Fem!Ghost!Reader
Warnings: Mentions death, a bit angsty, bad writing. (Let me know if I missed anything!)
Word count: 3k+
A/N: Hello, lovelies! I'm so sorry that this chapter took a while to make. I was busy on the weekend; however, I found time to finally finish the chapter for you all! I really do hope you guys enjoy this one! I will try to get a specific schedule for updates on certain stories. If you guys are wondering about updates for 'Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours,' I will try to update that as soon as possible. I will also be doing a couple drabbles on different characters and or drabbles of characters I've already written for. I would also like to thank you guys so much for all the support you all have been showing me! I am so thankful and grateful for each and every one of you! Thank you so much for every like, reblog, and comment, it means a lot to me!
Not proof read
╰┈➤Series Masterlist
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"You talked to my dad?!" Astrid had exclaimed with an amused smile on her face. There it was, that twinkle in her eye that you had missed so much. She hadn't been very happy recently, with you not around and everything else in her life that had been happening.
"Yeah, when I had first died. I got sent to the immigration office, and what do you know? There he was behind the glass. He's just as kind as you always told me he'd be. Surprisingly, he immediately recognized me. He told me that he had been watching after you and practically watched our love 'blossom,' as he put it." The two of you continued walking outside.
You couldn't help but think about how people must be seeing this. Astrid looked as if she were talking to herself from an outside perspective. Aware of her past, you knew people had a tendency to bully her, so when nearing Miss Shannon's School for Girls, you tried to get her to talk as much so that others wouldn't look at her funny. So, you took up most of the time on the way there, talking as much as she could so that she didn't have time to talk. Which was odd because she was usually the one who'd talk while you'd listen.
"He said he liked me, which is a relief. Sometimes, I feel like your mom is more confused but is trying to be supportive. I mean, remember when I had first come over, and she started talking about how she too 'experimented' as she said. Anyway, that isn't the point. I met your dad, and we actually frequently visited you together. It's funny, sometimes we'd bond over how much we missed you."
Astrid's eyes had furrowed as she had begun to notice that every time she began or wanted to speak, you only spoke faster, almost sputtering out information. A frown tugged at your lips as she had caught on.
"I just don't want people to look at you even more weirder than they already do. If you're talking to yourself, they'll find that an easy target. Try...putting on some headphones and pretending you're on the phone? Or you can just put your phone up to your ear?"
She smiled as she took her phone out of her pocket and brought it up to her ear.
"Thanks, you're right. So, what else did he say about me? Did you see my grandfather? What's the afterlife like?" Astrid felt like she had a million different questions to ask.
"Your dad says he's proud of you and that he sees himself in you all the time. As for your grandpa, no. I mean, I feel as if it's harder to find him since he did lose his head to a shark. The afterlife is a bit weird. I can't tell you much about it since I haven't exactly crossed over. I basically only know what headquarters and a few shops look like. I mean, there's a 'Soul Train' which essentially takes you to the 'Great Beyond,' but I never went because I don't want to risk not being able to watch over you."
You grabbed Astid's shoulders, moving beside her to walk toward the street end of the sidewalk. Even though you were dead, the sidewalk rule never really left you, even while Astrid couldn't even see you.
"Yeah, I figured. I almost can't believe that a shark bite ended his life, I knew my family wasn't normal, but we can't even have a somewhat normal death? The Great Beyond, huh? Soul Train is a clever name though. Does no one know what's on the side?"
"I mean, I've never seen someone leave then come back from the train in the full year, almost two years that I've been here. I'm not taking the risk and crossing anyway, I can't lose you again after we just got back to each other."
"You're right..." Her eyebrows furrowed, her attention on the sidewalk as they continued to walk. She thought to herself for a moment before speaking again.
"So, you don't have any ghost tricks you learned?"
"Of course, you'd ask that, would you be disappointed in me if I said I didn't?"
"I mean, you've been gone for a year almost two, I'd expect you to know at least something to make me feel better for all the time you've been gone."
"Okay, uhhh... I can walk through walls and, I guess, float a bit."
"That sounds like every other ghost."
"Just because i'm a ghost doesn't mean I have super powers, Astrid."
"Just saying."
"I mean, I do have this nasty scar from the accident." You lowered your shirt neckline, showing the scar on the lower part of your neck. Astrid winced at the scar before looking away.
"Right. Weird how all it took was one neck twist for you to die.
"Well, it's more like my neck twisted as if I was a cartoon character that got punched, and my head began spinning-"
"Ew, shut up. Don't talk about it like it's something light."
"I'm sorry, you're right."
It was silent for a bit as you guys walked into the school, Astrid opened one of the doors while you phased right through the other door. Astird put her phone back into her pocket as she walked upstairs and past the other students. You followed after her, your eyebrows furrowing at the other students nearby her dorm. Some of them whispering to each other while giggling.
That's when Astrid opened her dorm room's door, a bedsheet attached to the ceiling by a rope coming straight towards her. The bedsheet makes out a ghost with a 'Boo' sign in its chest area. Astrid stumbled back before turning around and looking at the other girls, who began to burst out into laughter behind her.
"When you're all driving carpool and banging your pilates instructor to fill the empty voids in your life, we'll see who gets the last laugh."
The girls smiles and laughs quickly died as she finished speaking. Astrid turned around as she went into her room, shutting the door behind her. You smiled proudly, a laugh escaping you as you saw the looks on the girls faces as they disburst from Astrid's door.
"Witty as always." You said as you phased through her dorm room's door. The make-shift ghost on the ceiling startling you a bit as you had almost 'ran' into it. Sometimes you forget you're a ghost even if it's been a year.
"They have not toned down with the comments? You had always been careful about this topic, not wanting to bring it up too much with Astrid.
"No." It was a simple and straightforward answer that made you not want to question further. A part of you felt angry that you were helpless to all of it now that you're dead. You had gotten so used to defending her against everyone but now your words would only fall on deaf ears.
You sighed as you plopped yourself onto her dorm room's bed, thinkiing for a moment on how to steer away the conversation of bullying that she obviously did not want to talk about.
"Did you hear that my sister's pregnant? I know that I shouldn't bother looking over them since they're perfectly fine.."
"I'm not surprised."
"She's naming the baby after me."
"God, that's ridiculous! Naming their kid after a relative who isn't even dead yet-" Astrid's voice faltered for a moment. The fact that you were dead and have been for almost two years was still a punch in the gut after all this time.
"That's what I said, baby." You offered her a small smile as you played into the bit that you were still alive for Astrid. She still wanted to make her at least feel a bit better.
'Baby.'
Your words - and your smile, even if it was for her benefit - just made Astrid's heart twist further in her chest.
"You're killing me here."
"Why?" Your head tilted to the side as you looked at her.
"Because you're supposed to be dead." Her voice came out in a strangled whisper as she looked down at the papers scattered on her desk.
You bit your lip, you didn't want to show that what Astrid had said hurt you. Even if you were dead, you still had emotions and feelings. You paused for a moment before deciding to drop the topic.
"So, they're having a baby shower. You should go."
"Oh god, a baby shower? Is it too late to make you disappear again?" Her face had immediately scrunched up with distaste at the idea of being forced to go to a baby shower - especially your self-centered sister's baby shower where she'd name her child after you for her own gain.
"Come on, you couldn't see me for a whole year, and now that you're finally able to, you already want to get rid of me? That's cold, babe, even for you. Even for me who's dead cold. Get it? Huh? Dead cold. Because i'm dead? And i'm cold now because I have no blood. No? Okay."
"Oof, that was horrible." She said as she shook her head and grumbled in response.
"Come on, admit you missed me. I heard all your late-night talks that you thought weren't reaching my ears."
"I did miss you - I've missed you for a whole year." She confessed, sounding a bit surprised by her own confession. The room fell silent, the weight of everything that had happened falling onto the both of them. Neither of them wanted to address it, though, they didn't want to have to deal with it now.
"Did you ever-" She paused for a moment as she thought of the right words to say, "When I'd lay in your bed and mope, were you just...watching me?"
"No, I hated that. I'd still do what I would've done if I were alive. I tried holding you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear that never got to you."
"Sweet nothings, huh?" She teased, which earned an eye roll from you. Again, the room had fell silent as the two were lost in thought before Astrid spoke again, breaking the silence.
"How bad did it hurt?"
"Uh.. Well... I just remember being on the ground one second, then in the air the next. I landed, and well- You know what. It had hurt for that second that I was alive, but it had been an instant death if anything."
Having to talk about your death wasn't an easy topic. It was a reminder of how quick you had lost it all. The blood in your system, the beat of your heart, Astrid. The sight of you nervously fidgeting with your own fingers made Astrid's heart ache.
"I hate that." She muttered, her voice coming in strained, almost as if she was forcing herself to get the words out.
"I'm sorry." Your words were mumbled as she continued to fidget with your fingers, now more anxiously than before. The apology caused Astrid to shut her eyes, trying to hold herself together. She felt that now was not the time to start breaking down.
"Don't. Don't apologize." She had almost snapped at you as she opened her eyes to shoot a glare at you.
"Okay." You were never one to go against her word, you didn't want to start a fight. Especially not now. All you could do was bring up one of your hands, beginning to gently pull on the hairs on the back of your neck as you avoided Astrid's eyes.
"Is that a nervous habit of yours now? Pulling your hair." She asked as she reached her hand out idly to brush your hair out of your eyes.
"I had gotten it when I first reached the afterlife. When you watch the people you love hurting, and all you can do is ghost around them..." Your voice had faltered, forcing yourself to clear your throat and then begin to speak again.
"You feel so helpless. Watching everyone who used to be around you and love you so miserable about your death. It makes you feel guilty but, most of all, useless. There's no way to hold, touch, talk to, comfort them... It's hard."
The room had fallen silent after your words. Astrid's fingertips gently brushed along the back of your head - tracing the place that you usually pulled at. She let her hand rest there, trying to keep you from pulling at your hair again.
"How cold am I?"
Your words made Astrid pause for a moment. Leaning closer to you as she wrapped an arm around her now ghost girlfriend. The chill of your skin made her shiver involuntarily - but Astrid tried not to show the way her body automatically wanted to shy away from the cold.
"Really damn cold. It's like you're an ice cube almost." Her words a mumble as she got closer to you, laying next to you as she rested her head on top of yours.
"I'm sorry that I'm not warm anymore." Your own words come out as a mumble as well, instinctively, your head rests on her shoulder.
"I know you don't much like when it's really cold. I thought I was keeping myself with this sweater but now that someone's actually able to touch me, I realize it's doing nothing for me."
"Gosh, you don't have to apologize for that. At least you're here." She pulled you closer against her, her arms wrapping around your waist - burtying her face into your shoulder, even if your skin was freezing and caused a slight burn against her own warm skin. She ignored the way that her body had involutarily shivered at the contact - focusing instead on the fact that her girlfriend was here.
"Barely." You mumbled quietly as you gently pulled away from your girlfriend, knowing that you were probably burning Astrid's skin with your own cold, dead skin that was now a pale blue hue.
"Don't be like that. You're talking as if you have no more hope."
"Death has a way of doing that."
Astrid let out a quiet huff at your words. Her eyes flickered back and forth from you and her own hands that were now gripped tightly on her bedding - but in the next moment, she let go. Almost as if with a full burst of speed, she darted to you. Her arms wrapping around your body, hauling you into her bed in a tight, crushing embrace.
"Astrid-" You had said in surprise and protest. You knew that you were cold. Dead. The cold would burn Astrid at one point, and you didn't want that. Not when you used to be alive and warm for her. You used to keep her warm and now you can only burn her with your icy dead skin.
"Don't even think about complaining. I don't care if you're cold." Astrid snapped as she held you impossibly close against her. Her body shivered once again as your cold skin was like a bucket of cold water dumped over her body - but she ignored the cold, focusing on the sensation of her girlfriend in her arms.
A frown had tugged at your lips, knowing that eventually, Astrid would get too cold, but after a year of being a lone ghost who watched your loved ones move on or suffer because of you, you couldn't help but be a little selfish. Your arms wrapped around her as tightly as you could.
You missed your girlfriend so much. Watching over her for a year, her suffering for a full year over your death, had done a number on you. You'd cry if you could, but all you felt was this deep internal sadness. You had no heartbeat, you had no blood to warm your body, you had no tears to shed from your dry eyes. Your chest was the most still it had ever been, you had no air to breathe anymore.
It had begun to feel like too much for the both of them. Being this close to each other after a year of thinking they'd never be able to have contact again, feeling each other's skin despite the feeling of a small burning on her own skin from your own. It was almost enough to make Astrid cry.
The cold was beginning to seep into her skin - making her shiver and leaving her skin prickled. But Astrid wouldn't - couldn't - let go of you. Not when it had been a year since she was able to hold you. You had only frowned as you held her tighter. A small hiss escaped Astrid from the cold contact as she tried to get herself impossibly closer to you.
"Damn it, it's getting too cold." She hissed, speaking between clenched teeth as she tried to bury her face into your shoulder further.
"Warm up with the blankets, I'll just lay beside you. I promise I won't disappear." You pulled away, gently moving Astrid off of yourself as you carefully pulled her bedsheets over her body. When you finished tucking her in, you lay beside her, admiring every detail you could land your eyes on.
She only huffed a bit, feeling oddly petulant about the fact that she had to let go of you However, she did as she was told. A small shiver rattled her body as her eyes locked onto yours. She managed to mumble something incohereently as she reached for you, trying to tug you close again.
"Too cold, baby. Just give it a moment. I'm here, you see me." You tried to reassure her as you gently tugged a strand of hair behind her ear.
'Baby.' The soft nickname only made her want to pull you close again, but she knew that you were right. Her boy was cold - skin still pricked and burned from being in contact with her girlfriend. She snuggled further into the bedding, her hand gently reaching out to yours. Linking her own pinky with yours, causing you to smile. Her eyes looked into yours as if asking if it was okay to which you had nodded.
┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛
A/N: I don't know why this felt like such a short chapter to me despite it being the most words I've written so far?? I might have some filler chapters for this and 'Picking Up Pieces That Aren't Yours' sometimes. Then again, there is still a lot to write for the storyline themselves. Thank you, lovelies, for all the support on my posts! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I'm so sorry if some days I do not have time to update. Also, if there's anyone that wants to be tagged for updates on this story, leave a comment saying so! Bye, loves!
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In honor of Lestat de Lioncourt's 264th birthday, I present to you...
Written in Blood, or the Play in which The Brat Prince Ties the Knot
Part I (of IV)
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Fandom: The Vampire Chronicles (Gothic horror novel series, 1976-2018); Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire (TV series, 2022-present)
Pairing: Lestat de Lioncourt/fem!reader; Lestat de Lioncourt/You
Word count: 3,900+
Characters: Lestat de Lioncourt (Sam Reid, the best version…­­­the only one that matters, obviously); fem!reader; The Vampire Armand (lol ouch); Nicolas de Lenfent (even bigger ouch, RIP); Santiago; Estelle; Celeste; Eglee; Sam; Gustav; Quang Pham; pretty much the entire Theatre des Vampires.
Summary: Fem!reader is the newest addition to the Theatre des Vampires, and Lestat becomes smitten with her (of course he does, the little whore!). Lestat’s allure, charm, beauty, and viciousness are not lost on the reader, and she falls for him (I mean, who wouldn’t, let’s be honest). With fem!reader being the freshest member of the Coven, Santiago “initiates” her (similar to how he brought Claudia in) by casting her as Lestat’s co-star in the next play as his love interest. The play, overseen reluctantly by Armand is about a wedding (in the vein of The Taming of the Shrew, As You Like It, or something similar but accurate to the time period, that is the vibe…Lestat, little miss Lady Macbeth himself, “barely Balthazar” Armand, “too old to play Hamlet, too young to play Polonius” Santiago, and I are all Shakespeare girlies, so I thought it would make sense); fem!reader and Lestat are actually getting legally married, unbeknownst to the mortal audience. Fem!reader and Lestat are to be the bride and groom, Santiago is the Justice of the Peace, and the rest of the TDV are the wedding party. While Armand is still the Coven leader, he “directs” the play and Nicki leads the orchestra. Things do not go the way they were planned to go (in Armand’s case); a story of love, sex, and vampire drama unfolds.
Warnings and additional tags: New/eventual relationship, established relationship, smut (P in V), fluff, mention of sex, mention of masturbation, (F and M), oral sex (F and M receiving), all characters (except the reader, duh) are written to be as close to the way they are in the books as well as the show to the best of my ability, reader-insert, reader-interactive, use of Y/N, Lestat gives the reader pet names in French (this is Lestat, after all), mutual pining, flirting, slight voyeurism, slight exhibitionism (is anything Lestat does really a secret? No, not really), blood drinking, blood sucking, bloodletting, biting, gore, violence, murder (feeding on humans is the only instance of this), both Lestat and fem!reader are bisexual, age gap (fem!reader is younger than Lestat by at least a bit but it doesn’t really matter as much because he himself is a new-ish vampire; Lestat would still be somewhere in his thirties in mortal years by the show’s timeline), Lestat is very seductive and persuasive (fem!reader doesn’t need much persuading, so it’s not a bad thing), a bunch of mentions of Shakespeare, lines from As You Like It are in italics and dialogue from vampires using the Mind Gift are in bold italics.
Notes: This story takes place while Lestat is still performing with the Theatre des Vampires and is newly a vampire himself. Magnus is obviously dead by now (thank God). The events of this fic take place after Lestat breaks up with both Nicki (he is still alive at this point in time) and Armand, but before he meets Louis de Pointe du Lac and later Claudia. I don’t have anything against either character (I adore both greatly!), this is just a “what if?” kind of situation. This is a basic idea I had had for literal years ever since I read the books, but I didn’t do anything with it until the second season of the show started, specifically episode 10. I wasn’t immune to Harlequin Lestat, and I was FERAL about it. Sam Reid only made that worse for me (God, I am so in love with him…that man IS Lestat. He doesn’t just play him, he BECAME him, and no one else has come close. Tom Cruise and Stuart Townsend could NEVER!). The premise of the fic came to me while listening to “Written in Blood” by She Wants Revenge…one thing led to another, and here we are! Also, yes, I KNOW the vampires don’t “have sex” in the novels, but they do in the show (a LOT). I might make references to things that have happened in the books (mostly Interview with the Vampire and The Vampire Lestat, possibly a bit of Queen of the Damned) but might not have been shown in the TV series yet, so reader beware of that. Let this be the spoiler warning if you are not familiar with the books or haven’t watched the show. I am completely ignoring both movies, because they mean absolutely nothing to me now that the (far superior) show exists. The piece that fem!reader uses for her audition comes from Shakespeare’s comedy As You Like It…she is reading as Rosalind while disguised as Ganymede, and Lestat reads with her as Orlando. I thought the parallels were a nice touch. I obviously do not own the rights to As You Like It, I merely used the one scene for Y/N’s audition, and to add romantic and dramatic effect. Special shout out to my best friend Riley for their contribution and ideas!
Language: English (except for a handful of pet names and expressions used by Lestat in French, hopefully I did it correctly. I took 4 years of French in high school, but I am not fluent)
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It was a cool autumn night in Paris, and while mortals slept, the undead were busy welcoming their newest member to their coven inside the old auditorium. The Vampire Armand stood proudly in front of the stage, looking up at the Theatre’s founder and poster child Lestat de Lioncourt, giving him notes and stage directions he knows full well Lestat will not listen to. Next to Lestat was Y/F/N Y/L/N, a freshly turned vampire herself.
Today was Y/N’s audition to join the Theatre des Vampires, and although nervous, she felt at home already among the other thespians in the room with her. With her lifelong love of theatre and literature that only intensified in her newly immortal life, Y/N knew she was in good company. She caught herself stealing glances at Lestat, as if against her will, but she knew she couldn’t help herself. Of all the vampires in this room—the stage director and Coven leader Armand, fellow company members Eglee, Celeste, Estelle, Sam, Gustav, and Quang Pham in the seats, as well as the gifted violinist Nicki hiding in the wings—there is something captivating and enchanting about this charismatic blonde actor. Y/N felt immediately attracted to this man, and she was both alarmed by and pleased with this sudden revelation. Lestat could feel Y/N’s attraction to him, something he found adorable, endearing, distracting, and quite arousing. Lestat gazed at her, a charmingly wicked smile on his face as he admired the young vampire in front of him. Armand, annoyed but pushing the uneasy feeling down, turned to look at Y/N.
“Welcome to the Theatre, dear Y/N. The Coven and I are interested as to how you found yourself in Paris, and how you found us. Please, enlighten everyone,” Armand said, with a slight air of both curiosity and mild arrogance rolled together. Y/N quickly moved her glance from Lestat to Armand and shivered slightly before she answered.
“Hello all, my name is Y/F/N Y/L/N, and I was visiting when I was given the Dark Gift. I have been in Paris ever since. I heard about the Theatre through my maker, and through discovering the Theatre, I found out about the Coven.” As she told the truth, she felt Santiago staring daggers at her, full of amusement.
“So, little miss Y/L/N, it seems as though you enjoy the arts, is that right?” said Santiago, with a slithery snark. Y/N nodded her head. “A birdie told me that you’re auditioning with one of Shakespeare’s lesser works, yes?” Y/N nodded again. Lestat’s blueish violet eyes widened as he grinned a little bigger.
“Yes, I will be reading as Rosalind disguised as Ganymede. I hope you find it suitable,” she said politely, trying to stifle a small tinge of laughter. Santiago exaggerated his giggle to mock her slightly before speaking again.
“Hmm, I assume you would like to have someone read with you. I wonder who that could be…” Santiago’s voice trailed off as he shifted his glance from Y/N to the left of her.
The slender, blonde, and devilishly handsome vampire beside Y/N spoke before she could even have the thought to respond. Watching from the wings, the violinist Nicki put a hand to his forehead with a quiet groan.
“I volunteer myself. I know the play by heart,” said Lestat. He shot Y/N a soft but sly grin as he placed his hand on his chest, reeling in the blush that appeared on her face. Armand had to hold back a scoff as Lestat offered to read with her. “I’m quite curious to see how she does, if I may.” Lestat gently bowed as he spoke to her, with a smile on his face and intrigue in his heart. Lestat was many things, and subtle was not one of them. Y/N nodded, smiling slyly back at him.
“You may,” Y/N said, bowing slightly. Her cheeks cast a rosy glow upon them as she smiled. Santiago chuckled to himself, and Armand choked down another scoff as he looked back to Y/N and Lestat.
“As you wish. Lestat, you will read with Y/N as Orlando, starting from his entrance after Jaques exits the scene. Y/N, you will follow.” Armand crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the two vampires in front of him on the stage.
“Yes, maître,” said Y/N, slightly nervous but strangely excited about reading alongside this hauntingly tempting creature next to her. She got herself into character quickly, trying to fight off the thought of how sweet Lestat’s blood might taste on her tongue and how soft his full lips must be, among various other salacious and primal things that she wasn’t aware of that she needed or wanted. It wasn’t an unwelcome thing—Lestat had something disarmingly attractive about him. Y/N felt drawn to him somehow, but she tried in vain to hide it. Lestat cleared his throat and prepared himself as well, his own pale skin turning a faint pink as they moved to the middle of the stage. Butterflies fluttered inside their bodies as they began their scene. After a few seconds of silence passed, Lestat launched into character.
“My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise.” Lestat said, remembering the lines from memory as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. Despite her nervousness and giddiness, Y/N began herself.
“Break an hour’s promise in love? He that will divide a minute into a thousand parts and break but a part of the thousand part of a minute in the affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid hath clapped him o’ th’ shoulder, but I’ll warrant him heart-whole.” Y/N matched Lestat’s intensity and focus as she spoke her lines. Astonished by her delivery, he carried on with his own lines.
“Pardon me, dear Rosalind,” continued Lestat, feeling a rush of adrenaline in the pit of his stomach, the pleasant sensation only growing stronger as she went on. Lestat watched her as she moved effortlessly through her audition, overcome with awe, very nearly stumbling on his own lines as a result. Armand and Santiago watched from the bottom of the stage as Y/N and Lestat kept going.
Armand watched from the front row and noticed Lestat’s immediate and oddly natural chemistry with Y/N and was well aware of the subtle attraction and quiet infatuation she felt towards Lestat. Armand could feel it through her, and it bothered him. He couldn’t help it; he began to feel his face turn green with envy. Santiago, however, was greatly amused at what was unfolding in front of them—and he relished the drama of it all. The rest of the Coven watched from the seats intently, some engrossed, some unbothered. Nicki leaned up against the wall backstage, a pained expression etched on his features. Looking on at his former lover floating across the stage with a woman whom he had only met mere hours ago and watching her fall under his spell just as he had, Nicki shook his head, a grimace forming on his face.
With all due respect, maître…maybe we should keep an eye on the new one, said Santiago, filling Armand’s head with his thoughts without moving his mouth. It’s only a matter of time before our dear founder tries to take her to bed with him…you know as well as I do how he is. And seeing how she’s looking at him—Armand did not want to hear this. Lestat and Y/N were too immersed in their scene and lost in each other to hear them through their own minds.
Armand cut him off. Enough, Santiago. I know very well how Lestat operates. Let them finish. I’ll allow Y/N to continue, for now. We shall decide what measures to take when the time is right… As Armand and Santiago sized Y/N up, she breezed through her audition.
“Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday humor, and like enough to consent. What would you say to me now an I were your very, very Rosalind?” Y/N continued as she blushed and smiled at Lestat. Anything he did in his impromptu performance, she followed with masterful skill.
Lestat slowly walked closer to her, his gaze never leaving her eyes. Lestat looked at Y/N, smirking as he brushed some of his long blonde hair behind his ear. He let the silence expand for a second before he continued.
“I would kiss before I spoke.”
Lestat and Y/N gazed at each other as if they were the only beings in the room, amusing Santiago morbidly and annoying Armand profoundly. A mixture of admiration and a deep hunger formed inside Lestat’s chest, and Y/N’s heart pounded against her ribcage. She gulped quietly as she tried to keep up with Lestat. Determined to give the best audition she could despite having to act opposite the most gorgeous creature she has ever laid her eyes on, alive or dead, Y/N tried to fight off her own desire building within her. Soft gasps could be heard from the other vampires watching them from the seats.
“Nay, you were better speak first, and when you were gravelled for lack of matter, you might take occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit; and for lovers lacking—God warn us—matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss.”
Sensing Y/N’s struggle to maintain her composure, Lestat met her energy with his own words. “How if the kiss be denied?” He looked at her for a beat, cocking his head to one side quizzically. Y/N answered him with a playful shrug.
“Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter.”
Lestat continued his teasing, delighted by the thrill Y/N gave him. “Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress?”
Y/N pretended to scoff. “Marry, that should you if I were your mistress, or I should think my honesty ranker than my wit.”
Lestat looked at Y/N with a look of mock surprise. “What, of my suit?” he said, his voice harboring a more sensual tone this time.
“Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit. Am I not your Rosalind?” Y/N floated across the stage like a ghost, every single movement calculated and carried out so smoothly.
“I take some joy to say you are because I would be talking of her.” Lestat’s face reddened slightly as he noticed how Y/N’s jaw dropped, but only for a second before she kept going.
“Well, in her person I say I will not have you.” Y/N let out an exaggerated giggle as she playfully spun around slowly.
A dramatic sigh escaped Lestat’s lungs. “Then in mine own person I die.” He looked back at Y/N as she turned to face him again.
“By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come; now I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on disposition, and ask me what you will, I will grant it.” Y/N gazed at the vampire in front of her, only inches separating them now. Lestat reached out to gently caress Y/N’s cheek as they looked deeply into each other’s eyes, making her blush even more obvious in her face now. He has her right where he wants her, and as fate or some other mystical thing would have it, Y/N is right where she wants to be. Once again, Lestat drew the silence out for a beat too long before he spoke.
“Then love me, Rosalind.”
Y/N’s voice trembled a little as she leaned into Lestat’s touch. His unbroken focus on her made her feel slightly faint just from the way he looked at her, but she kept her cool as best as she could. “Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and all.” She shyly smiled up at him, trying and failing to hide her quiet swooning.
Lestat hung on to every word that left her lips as if he had never heard such language spoken before. Of course, he was no stranger to the stage himself, having been the Theatre’s main selling point for a few years now. The act of performing on a stage in front of an enamored audience always thrilled him, but she…she was different. This new and sudden but pleasant feeling cut him way deeper, hit him harder—he knew that she was something magical. And Lestat wasn’t quite sure where to put that desire and hunger, so he decided to do the thing he does best: he needed to have her all to himself, by any means necessary. Lestat was delighted to find that the feeling was so clearly mutual.
Santiago watched Lestat enchant Y/N as they continued with their performances. He gasped quietly as he saw Lestat become smitten with Y/N, rolling his eyes. Just look at those two! Can you believe them? They’ve made eyes at each other from the second she came through the door. They’ve only just met a few hours ago and he’s looking at her like Venus de Milo herself…and she looks as if she’s about to melt through the floor. Armand found himself becoming more and more annoyed as Lestat and Y/N carried on like they were, and Santiago took notice. Maître, you’re grinding your teeth…
Armand huffed quietly. I said let them continue. Y/N is smarter than we realize. If she doesn’t know who she’s getting herself tied up with, she will. I can guarantee that. Armand maintained his mildly annoyed expression as he crossed his arms over his chest. I see potential in her. We can use that potential.
Santiago, ever the drama queen but also the suck-up, tried to push Armand’s buttons. How shall we do that, maître? I wonder what our violinist has to say about this…I can’t imagine he’s especially thrilled about—
Armand cut him off once again. Be silent now, Santiago. Nicki is the least of my worries right now.
Now mildly aware of the growing discomfort in the pit of Armand’s stomach and Santiago’s antagonizing of him, Lestat continued to read with Y/N. He was enraptured by her, this was true—but he also found quite a bit of amusement in making Armand uncomfortable. Y/N, less aware of the effect her performance is having on the Coven leader and his all-too-willing sidekick, matched him masterfully.
“And wilt thou have me?” said Lestat, sultry and low.
Y/N nodded her head and smiled. “Ay, and twenty such.”
Lestat felt his heart flutter in his chest as he moved closer to her. “What sayest thou?”
Y/N gently bit her lip then let it go with a smirk. “Are you not good?”
“I hope so.” Lestat rolled his eyes in a sassy manner.
“Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing?” Y/N went on, closing the small space between herself and Lestat.
The vaguely pained expression did not escape Armand’s face. Still wanting to maintain some sort of order and power over his Coven, Armand kept his focus fixed on the two vampires on the stage in front of him.
Santiago, an evil grin taking shape over his features, watched Lestat and Y/N’s bond become deeper by the second as Y/N continued. “Come, sister, you shall be the priest and marry us. Give me your hand, Orlando.” Y/N gently reached for Lestat’s hand, and he placed it in hers, tangling their fingers together. She looked to where the audience would be sitting. “What do you say sister?” Y/N looked back up at Lestat as he gazed back at her, their vampire eyes blown out with love and desire for each other.
After what felt like an eternity, Lestat put his finger under Y/N’s chin and gingerly tilted her head up. He started to move down to press his lips to hers, and she moved up to meet him. He closed his eyes, and her eyelids fluttered shut as his lips gently—
A groan could be heard from Armand as Santiago abruptly rose from his seat and applauded loudly. Lestat and Y/N snapped out of their trance and pulled away from each other, no longer able to hide their blushing. The rest of the Coven began to applaud as well. The vampires Sam and Gustav were enthusiastic in their encouragement of the new potential member of the Coven and her undeniable and palpable chemistry with their Theatre’s founder. Celeste looked on with a proud smile on her face, while Estelle clapped wildly. Eglee rolled her eyes before eventually joining in with her applause. Backstage, Nicki shook his head again as he quietly left the auditorium, quietly cursing under his breath.
“Very well done, Y/N. Very well done indeed,” said Santiago, sounding giddier than he probably should. He looked at Armand. “What say you, maître?” he asked with mock amusement.
Armand once again did not listen. He looked up at Y/N as Lestat released her from his gentle but bold embrace. “Exquisite work, Y/N. Exceptional. While we evaluate your performance, you are welcome to remain here with the Coven. We have provided a coffin for you near your maker’s.” Armand started to dismiss everyone before he turned back to Y/N. “We do expect you to keep our hours, curfew is three o’clock sharp.” He shot a subtle but menacing glare at Lestat. Lestat rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself as he turned his back to him. Armand looked at Y/N again. Lestat smiled warmly at Y/N as he winked at her.
Still reeling from everything that just occurred, Y/N nodded and bowed. “Yes maître, I will. Thank you all.” Armand dismissed Santiago and the rest of the Coven, and they all left the auditorium.
It was then that Y/N heard a sensual and seductive voice inside her head.
Très bien fait, ma chérie. I’m impressed.
Y/N turned around to find Lestat leaning against the piano on the stage, his arms crossed over his chest, looking her up and down, dripping with genuine curiosity and insatiable desire. She blushed and smiled as she met his gaze.
“That’s very sweet of you to say, Lestat. It really means a lot to hear.” Y/N walked over to him, slightly nervous but not at all deterred. “You were amazing yourself.”
Lestat rolled his eyes playfully at her compliment but accepted it. “You flatter me, mon amour.” He stood up straight and walked over to her, looking down at her with that softly sly smirk again. “I must say, my dear Y/N, you are quite the actress. Many have come and gone from this theatre, but none have bewitched me so like you have, ma petite fleur.”
Y/N swooned at his words, slightly taken aback by the sincerity in them despite the obvious attraction. “Oh, you’re too kind. It’s not often I’m in the presence of someone so…” She caught herself getting lost in his eyes again—something she has by now realized is very easy to do—before she continued. “So…enchanting as you.”
Lestat chuckled lowly. “Is that so? Well, you have captivated me too, love,” he said, pausing briefly as he took the sight of her in. “I haven’t seen such talent on this stage in quite some time, Y/N.” She blushed deeper as she took a second to gather her thoughts. Y/N sighed softly before speaking.
“Thank you! I’m just happy that I can finally do what I love to do. Up until today, I thought it was unfortunate that I couldn’t do this kind of thing when I was mortal, but I don’t have that feeling now that I’m here. In an odd way, it feels right like this.” Y/N chuckled lightly.
Lestat listened to her words intently. “I know that feeling very well, mon coeur. For what it’s worth, I’m quite glad you wandered into our midst. I can see already that you’re passionate about the Theatre, and it’s refreshing. You’re simply lovely.” Y/N smiled at his words of admiration and encouragement. “I cannot wait to see what other talents you possess, if you don’t mind my saying so,” he said with a smirk, appreciating the slight drop of her jaw. Noticing the positive tension on her face, Lestat spoke gently to her. “Oh, and don’t be nervous, chérie. There is nothing to be afraid of. I have no doubt you’ll fit in here, I am sure of it.” He traced her jawline affectionately before tilting her head up to bring her eyes to meet his, just like he did during her audition. “And, if I may be so bold, I would love to get to know you better. If you’ll have me, of course.” Y/N’s eyes widened as she swooned. She nodded as she stuttered slightly.
“I’d love to, Lestat. I would be honored.” Y/N felt her heart jump into her mouth. The gorgeous blonde vampire in front of her reveled in how flustered she looked as he spoke to her.
“Very well then, dear Y/N. We’ll continue our little conversation after your initiation tomorrow.”
Y/N gulped. “My…my what?!”
Lestat giggled slyly. “You heard me correctly, ma chérie. Welcome to the Theatre, darling. You’re one of us now as far as I’m concerned.”
“But…Armand said—” Lestat gently placed a finger over her lips to shut her up as he spoke lowly to her, sultry and dripping with desire.
“Shh, ma jolie fille…never mind what that manipulative gremlin Armand said.” Lestat let his finger gently drag across her bottom lip before letting it go. He brushed some of her hair behind her ear as he continued. “I’ll be seeing you backstage afterwards, yes?”
There was no way for him to be coy about his appetite for her any more than he had earlier. The vampire Lestat de Lioncourt, the Brat Prince himself, was anything but shy about his unquenchable thirst for Y/N; it only grew exponentially in the few hours since he met her.
Y/N felt as though the air had been knocked out of her lungs as she nodded. “Of course, Lestat. You will.” She smiled at him, trying to regulate her breathing.
Lestat smiled wickedly at her again. “Très bien, mon amour. I’ll see you then.” He caressed her face again before turning to walk away. “Bonne nuit, ma belle. Sweet dreams.”
Y/N could feel her heart pounding in her throat as she smiled. “Good night, Lestat. I hope you sleep well.” Blushing, she beamed at him, and he smiled back, a blush of his own on his face.
With that, they left the room. As she lifted the lid to her coffin next to the others to crawl inside it, Y/N gasped as she heard Lestat’s voice in her head again, stopping her momentarily.
Remember what I told you, ma petite fleur. There is nothing to worry your pretty little head with. And know this too, my darling: I don't bite...hard.
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sheepwavehdg · 19 days ago
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I am generally disappointed with the place the HDG Foundational Works have ended up in among the broader readership and fandom of the setting.
Despite the fact that the foundational works page literally says it is not intended to be the definitive introduction to the setting, it is common in spaces devoted to the fandom for it to be presented that you absolutely must read all of them to understand HDG enough to read other stories.
And like... No???
It's meant to be stories that should be read before writing and to answer questions about the setting. That is literally what the page says. I have, however, seen readers lament that because abscisson is too dark for them or divaricated is too long, they feel they cannot read anything else in the setting. I have seen people genuinely believe there are exactly seven stories in all of HDG (because of the unintended misleading design on the website that implies that)
Every story an author makes should stand on its own to some degree. Certainly, mine are all written assuming the reader is brand new to the setting(though I dont think any of them is an ideal introduction, I make sure a reader wont be completely clueless). If someone is looking to get into HDG, I vastly prefer to ask them the question "what kind of tone do you think you would enjoy" to just linking the foundational works page. A linear entry to the setting- even though I consider every story on it to be very important and noteworthy- flattens nuance and minimizes the importance of later growth and development in a way I really don't like.
The foundational stories reflect a specific period of time, when the setting was much smaller and existed on Read Only Mind. It is no longer on ROM, it is on AO3, and many of the most influential authors currently writing are all new voices who were never even here for ROM. I do not think that the broader fringes of fandom appreciates the nuance of this fact, and it irks me that so much discussion now centers on these stories to the point it drowns out all else unless you actively force it to be otherwise.
If I absolutely had to reccomend an introduction to the setting that composed of a list external to the foundational works, I would personally point to Irregular Orbits by rocketmermaid, Through The Looking Glass by PyxxieStyxx and mothcourt, and particularly The Place Where We Can Stop Running by Dame Harmony as my set of introductions to the setting as it exists in a living body of ongoing works today.
I don't think, aside from fixing the stories tab on the website not mentioning the existence of stories outside of the foundationals(and this is already kind of a waste of time since the entire website is being replaced soon) and perhaps moving them to the writing tab instead of the stories tab, there is anything that the settings managing team can or even should do about this, as it is unfortunately just a reality of the broadening fandom drawing more mid to low engagement voices into the mix, but it still really irritates me.
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grison-in-space · 8 months ago
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You know, I've been reading things written by people on the internet for my whole life, or at least my whole life after I was about ten. I'm thirty three now. That means there are people whose words I read on the internet twenty years ago who are presumably still around and occupying the internet—sometimes using names I can recognize from back then, too. (hat tip to my fellow "changing usernames is unnatural actually" brethren; I've only changed one myself twice in the whole world since I was about fourteen or fifteen.)
Sometimes I think about a person I see around occasionally on the internet. That person wrote a story about a character in a rather silly fandom we shared, and I read it as a child just beginning to conceptualize being someone whose opinions might matter. And I remember reading that story at some point, because at that age I had a hyperfixation on that character in that fandom at that time and I read pretty much everything in the genre. I never really got to talk to anyone but the inside of my head about it. My friends didn't read fanfiction, and my parents viewed my reading fanfiction as some kind of depraved, shameful secret. Anyway, I read that story and I remember having some kind of deep realization about how adult humans work while I was reading it.
I learned something about the world from that story. (It was one of those insights that are now so molten alongside my core that it's difficult for me to disentangle them from myself, like "people outside you have their own perspective on your behaviors, but that doesn't mean they have to be right.") And I remember that they know it, because they taught it to me, without meaning to. One of the anonymous impacts on readers that writers never see unless they're extraordinarily lucky.
And I smile, because it's lovely to see them again, and they showed me a skill I still use today. We don't have a relationship of any kind—it would be very difficult to recognize me, I think—but they did me a favor a long time ago. And I remember. Now I get to be reminded that this person still exists, and is still a pretty cool human to be around today, at least for the specific circumstance of internet neighbor. Well, and our modern level of concern about once beloved elders from the distant past going terrifyingly cult-addled and bigoted on short notice.
That has not happened in the slightest. They're just still a pretty nice fandom person who is a bit older than me, who is recognizably the same person they have always been, but more intensely and thoughtfully—like a distilled brandy, not a sour vinegar left out on a countertop too long.
Weirdly, that's a thing I find comforting: this tiny, one way, invisible affection. Every so often I feel this intense affection for a person I've never spoken to or about, because I see them and I love them intensely for a moment and then we both go about our days.
Think about how many interactions you have with people as you go about your day. Wouldn't it be nice to imagine that other people feel like that about you?
I think I'm going to imagine that there's one person that read something I said and thinks that about me. I don't need to ever actually know if it's true: I can just imagine someone who happened to be at a formative moment when they learned something against the background of my words. We'll never know each other as our screennames are lost along the years and we move in and out of touch with parts of ourselves, but we still have that little fond impact on one another, those fingerprints in one another's clay.
It's a nicer world to imagine than the one where no one is paying attention to me, or the only people paying attention to me are mean. And there's really no way to ever know for sure, so why not inhabit the pleasant end of the imaginatory pool if you can?
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yurunivo · 1 month ago
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Hii! Not sure if you are doing theres(if u dont just please ignore it) kind of requests, but if you do, may I pretty please with cherry on top get some headconons of yandere Mavuika with a darling on hunger strike? (basically darling refuses to eat unless freed)
Tsm 4 reading my request! And I am so sorry if you are not taking theres kind of requests, please just ignore this if thats the case!!
This is my first time getting this kind of request but I'll try 👆
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Synopsis: you're not eating till you're free
TW: Darling will be the reader since I'm not too familiar with the concept (idk if darling is reader or not so yeah), gn!reader, coercion, manipulation, drug use, mentions of people supporting mavuika's actions, yandere Mavuika, reader is a traveller (but not the traveller), bad grammar, not proofread, bad writing, english is not my first language, I do not support any of the actions I've written, mentions of hurting reader, OOC, mentions of vomiting, short
Characters: Yandere!Mavuika x gn!reader
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You missed the outside world.
The way Mondstadts air was like a calming breeze, the way Liyue had their stories, the way Inazuma was filled with the books from Yae publishing house, the way Sumeru was so casual, the way Fontaine's books were always entertaining to read.
You missed it all.
You had a plan to journey to find out about the entire world, the cultures of the different nations and their history. It was all so intriguing to you. However, out of all the regions, Nation was the most mysterious. None of the civilians from Natlan went outside their Nation, and it was all a mystery to you.
Now you knew that you should've stayed curious.
Natlan was filled with welcoming people, the culture and everything was all so unique to you. The tribal systems, the ancient names, they were all things you'd never heard of before. The fact that the Archon was human too really piqued your interest. It was much different than anything else you had ever seen before. You were drowning in these revelations, in a good way.
That's when you met the Archon.
She was welcoming, very much so. It was like you two bonded immediately. The two of you often got lost into speaking about many topics, her about Natlan and you about your journey. That often led to hours of talking, a company you enjoyed greatly.
It was then time for you to leave. Your family would start to worry about you leaving for too long anyway. But, Mavuika's words always made you stay for a bit longer, somehow.
"You still haven't learned about the specific cultures of each tribe, maybe we could talk about that. Writing letters is a hassle anyway. Just stay here for longer I promise."
So, one month turned to two, two into three and three into four. That's when you had the conscience to know that you were staying for too long. It was strange how your family wasn't giving any letters, but they must be worried either way.
The look Mavuika gave you when you told her this was nothing in the sort of pretty. However, she complied, and allowed you to leave Natlan. However, just as you were about to leave her office, you collapsed. You coughed up a bit of blood and you looked above you. Mavuika was peering down on you, her foot next to your head. Maybe that's why the smell in the room made you feel weird.
That's when you woke up in a bed, more luxurious than yours but horrifying nonetheless. You saw Mavuika entering the room, her expression unreadable. She offered you a hand, yet you slapped it away angrily. You were beyond angry, and also scared.
"Where am I Mavuika?! What did you do?!" Your eyes were starting to be filled up with tears, yet all she did was brush them away tenderly with her finger. The action felt disgusting, and you wanted nothing more than to escape. You spoke insult after insult to her, but she ended up carrying you, and as much as you wanted to just get out of her grasp, her scorching Pyro abilities on your back was enough to shut you up.
She took you to the stadium where multiple people were watching. You gulped at the sight, what was going on? Why did the people look so happy, weren't they going to help?!
She announced with joy that you were her "lover". You looked at her, horrified, trying to escspe from her grasp. The thought of it made you want to vomit, but the fact that so many people were cheering her on for getting a lover in the first place made it impossible for your screams of terror to be heard. You screeched, yelled and tried your very best but they were never heard.
You stayed for another month in Natlan, your face turning paper by the day.
Mavuika took you to the different tribes. She made you meet ancient name bearers, heroes of Natlan and such, but you want nothing to do with it. You just want to go home. You didn't want to know who were random people, you wanted to know how the hell you would get out of your situation.
Every feast, every gift, every compliment, they meant nothing. You vomited everything you ate, you threw away every gift you got and you (rudely) brushed off any compliment you could get. Mavuika gave you gifts too, but you always threw that away first.
Right now, you vomited up the food you ate again, feeling sick to your stomach. Coughing up saliva, you wiped it away with your sleeve.
"If she's going to play this game then so shall I," you muttered to yourself, determined . Really, your plan would only bring you so much pain, the pain of not eating, but you couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she sees your dead body. That salvation was the only thing you dreamed of. That's the day you put your plan into effect.
You ate nothing, you didn't want to, and for your best interest too. All the events that were celebrated were declined, and the maids that were supposed to take care of you got the same old excuse of: "I already ate," or, "I don't feel like eating." You were ecstatic, so glad everything was going the way you wanted. Sure, you were as skinny as a stick now, you were pale and all of your veins were showing, but hey, if she didn't do anything about it, it was fine. They way you would tremble, the way you constantly felt cold, the way you were like a twig ready to be blown away by the wind would all be worth it. Your inevitable death would be worth it, and you'd been dreaming of that outcome for a while by now.
"It would all be worth it."
As you pushed away the food you were offered again, you looked through your surroundings. You were bored. All the novels you'd gotten were all read through, and if it weren't for a certain Archon, you would've found your way to Snezhnaya by now.
That question answered itself quite easily.
Surprisingly enough you started to feel your eyes going shut. You mumbled incoherently, slowly falling asleep. Maybe you could pass the time by resting.
"Just a small nap.." You yawned, your mind going blank.
As you did so, Mavuika entered the room again, holding a bowl of gruel in her hands. She walked up to you and sat down at the ledge of the bed, slowly but surely feeding your unconscious figure. You would choke if she got any thing heavier, so this would have to do for now.
A few coughs went unnoticed as she finished your meal and slowly making you drink water, making sure you don't waste any drop. Your face was serene, she really hoped it would stay that way when you woke up.
"The inscence I got from Miss Emilie certainly worked well, I should thank her by letter sometime," she mumbled, looking at the hidden plate of the stuff in the corner. You were still fast asleep, oblivious to what she was doing.
"You won't be able to get rid of me so soon my dear," she talked to your sleeping self as she walked away. In response, you did a slight jerk in your sleep, almost as if you could hear what she said. But, if you knew or not didn't matter, you couldn't fight her anyway.
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This is so trash but wtv
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lakesbian · 9 months ago
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i have had like 10 friends rec worm to me but nobody’s given me a good like, gist of its vibe and what its abt because ‘its best blind’, could u please give a like brief summary and vibe check of it 😭 it’s so long i dont wanna try and invest that much time without knowing much abt it
so, worm is a 1.7 million word long webserial written in 2010. 1.7 million words seems like a lot, but it was also written over a relatively short period of time, which means the writing style is very easy to parse--the ideas aren't without complexity, but the language itself isn't intimidatingly dense. you can get through it at a very decent pace. i agree with your friends that there are vast portions of worm that hit best when you're unspoiled, but the thing is that worm is long enough that giving you the basic plot pitch is in no way spoilers for any of the things that i wouldn't want to see spoiled for someone. i'm actually kind of baffled they're not telling you Any Thing, because it is in my estimation one of the best books i've ever read, but it also Needs a briefing before you get into it for like five different reasons. which i will now provide. i swear to god this is brief by my standards it's just that i am very thorough
worm is a story about superheroes and supervillains, set in a world where superpowers are traumagenic--rather than appearing randomly or innately, some people gain powers after a traumatizing event happens to them. the protagonist is taylor hebert, a 15yo girl who has the power to control insects and desperately wants to be a superhero. and then accidentally finds herself scouted by a team of teenage villains instead. who's to say how she's going to react to all that!
one of the most compelling things about worm is that the superpowers in it serve as visceral, hyper-literal metaphors for the trauma and traumatized coping mechanisms of the characters with those powers. each power is incredibly specific and thematically relevant to the person who has it, and it's incredibly interesting and evocative. it feels so natural and well-done that it comes off like how superpowers are just meant to be written.
the fact that superpowers stem from trauma also means that worm is fundamentally a narrative about trauma. specifically, about traumatized teenagers and the relationships they form as they cling together while struggling through growing up traumatized & mutually coping with an increasingly intriguing, intense, and far-reaching escalating plot. worm's depictions of trauma + mental illness--including unpalatable trauma responses, including traumatized characters who are allowed to be complicated and nuanced and messy while still receiving narrative respect--are deeply real-feeling and impactful, and they're placed in the context of a well-spun + engaging story.
i really do have to stress how excellent the character writing is. worm is fully deserving of being as long as it is. over the course of 1.7 million words of character development, the average reader's reaction to the main characters goes from "sorta interesting" to "okay, i want to see where this goes" to "augh...really likable" to "i am now on hands and knees crying and these characters are going to stick around in my brain forever." wildbow has incredible talent for efficiently conveying complicated, real-feeling, and viscerally evocative characterization. many of the interlude chapters (chapters written from the perspective of different characters other than taylor) are so interesting, fleshed-out, and emotionally affecting that they make you wish you could read an entire novel about just the side character being featured. with that level of characterization for just the side cast, it's not surprising that taylor (& co) are genuinely just downright iconic. and i do not say that lightly--taylor is truly one of the best-written protagonists i've seen in anything. ever.
the other main pitch-point for worm is that it's a fascinating deconstruction/reconstruction/examination of the conceits of the superhero genre. it answers the question of--what would the world have to be like, for people with superpowers to act the way they do in classic cape media? and it does this well enough that it's interesting even if you have only a passing familiarity with cape media. i am not a big superhero media fan, but worm addresses virtually every aspect of cape media that was under the sun around 2010 in a way that's so interesting i still find it incredibly engaging. the approach it takes makes the narrative very accessible even to people who aren't usually cape media fans.
and speaking of the narrative: the end of the story is coherent and satisfying and deeply thematically resonant*. the way worm follows through on all of its main mysteries & plot threads is excellent. you don't have to worry about getting thru 1.7 million words and being dissatisfied by the author shitting the bed at the end, or anything like that. he does an amazing job of weaving together plot events in a way that makes each successive one feel rationally, thematically, and emotionally connected to what came before. there's really only one part where i feel the story stumbles a bit, but i think it was the best option he had for the narrative, and it's by no means a dealbreaker. it's in fact really impressive how cohesive and satisfying worm is for such a long webserial released over such a brief period of time.
*this is subjective ive seen some people who didnt love it but ive never seen anyone who downright Hated it who didnt also demonstrate egregious misunderstanding of literally everything worm is about. so thats a good sign
as for the downsides of worm/things that might put you off:
there is a very long list of trigger warnings for it. if you have any trigger warnings you want you should ask your friends to let you know about the relevant parts, because the fact that it's About Trauma (& about typical cape media circumstances presented very seriously) means that traumatic and violent things & their realistic aftermath are constantly happening and/or being discussed. i would not classify worm as needlessly dark or spiteful to the audience by any means, but it is intense and covers a lot of heavy topics. i do assume if your friends are all recommending it to you, they think none of the material would be too much for you, though!
worm was written in 2010 by a white cishet guy from canada. it's typical levels of 2010-era bigoted, it has a deeply lesbophobic stereotype character, it has some atrociously racist stereotype characters, the author really hates addicts, It's Got Blind Spots. i think worm is generally fully worth reading despite these, but very fair warning that it can get bad. i think what exacerbates this is that worm is generally extremely nuanced & sympathetic regarding ideas such as "crime is a result of systematic circumstance vs people just being inherently evil" and "mentally ill people who are traumatized in unpalatable ways are still deserving of fundamental respect as human beings" and so on and so forth, so it's extra noticeable and insufferable when you get to a topic the author has unexamined biases on and all that nuance drops out. the worst part is that a lot of this is most concentrated in the early arcs, so you have to get through them without being super attached to any of the characters yet. it is worth it though.
worm like. Does have a central straight relationship in it. and it's a very well written straight relationship for the most part and i like it quite a lot. but worm also passes the bechdel test with such flying colors that it enters 'unintentionally homoerotic' territory. which means a lot of people were shipping the main character ms taylor hebert with her female friends while the story was being released. which caused the author to get so mad he 1. posted a word of god to a forum loudly insisting that all of the girls are straight and 2. inserted a few deeply awkward and obvious and out of character scenes where he finds an excuse for the girls to more or less turn to the camera and go "i'm not gay, btw. this is platonic." This is fucking insufferable, and will piss you off immensely, but then you will get to any of the number of deeply emotionally affecting scenes between them, and at that point you will be too busy sniffling piteously and perhaps crytyping an analysis post on tumblr to be mad about all that other shit. also they're only a couple tiny portions out of an entire overall fantastic novel
overall: if those points don't sound like dealbreakers (i hope they aren't they're really massively outstripped by the amount of devastatingly good moments in worm, worm still has a thriving fandom over a decade later for a reason), you should absolutely give it a shot and see what you think. my final note is that you have to read up until the end of arc 8 to really see where what makes worm Worm kicks in, so aim for at least there to see how you feel about it if you're just thinking about dipping your toes in vs fully committing. i hope that was helpful and not too long :)
oh and don't go in the comments section on wordpress if you don't want spoilers. or anywhere else in the fandom at all. you will be spoiled. quite possibly for things you could not even have imagined were topics to be spoiled on.
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lincolndjarin · 1 year ago
Text
Best Kept Secret
chapter twenty four : lunar interlude : riduur
ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧
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pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader
rating : 18+ mdni
word count : 7.8k (at last, a normal chapter length)
summary : din is so in love it's obscene at this point, keep it in your chest man (it being his heart.)
warnings, etc. : language, fluff, smut, this chapter is a sappy nightmare,,, like i've got one last chance to be sappy before i need to do my action packed finale so this is just me being sappy, din djarins so in love it makes me sick, fingering, p in v, clit stim, reverse cowgirl, creampie, cockwarming, massages, just general happiness like why are these idiots so happy what is their problem
a/n : WOOF this took a fucking WHILE to get out, and for those who waited, prepare to be UNDERWHELMED lmao. this is the last chapter before the final arc of the story and i was feeling rather sentimental while I wrote it. anyhow,,, i have a million excuses for why this took so long but like who cares cause it's here now yippee!!! as for every chapter i've ever posted i have no idea if i like this or not so there's that, i kind of hate this one the way i hate every lunar interlude, like i've never written a din pov and felt good about it lmao so i guess we'll see. comments and reblogs are appreciated <3
He doesn’t deserve this.
How could he possibly be deserving of you? Yet somehow you make him feel as if he is. With your soft touch and the way your eyes get just a little bigger when you see him. 
He’s going to ask you to marry him.
Is that something he can do? 
Technically of course you don’t really consider yourself married as far as he can tell. Sure you have a husband but that’s all he is, a husband. 
An obstacle. 
The two of you could still be married. 
And you wanted to leave this place. So he was going to give you exactly that. 
A home, far away from here. 
He pulls you into the cabin, wanting nothing more than for you to see the smile on his face. Of course you won’t let him do that much to his confusion. 
Maybe if you’re married to him you’ll look. 
The longer you wait the more nervous he gets about it. 
A lot can go wrong with this kind of thing. 
Very specifically, you could just not find him attractive in the slightest, which wouldn’t be great all things considered. If that happened maybe he could just live with the helmet on and you’d be okay with that. 
“Do you want to sleep here tonight or go back to the castle?” You look exhausted as he asks, he practically carries you towards the bed. 
“Here’s fine.” You look too tired to walk back anyway. 
He drags the mattress off of the busted frame, setting it on the floor. You seem surprised that he didn’t have a bigger reaction to your love confession. 
He did the first time you’d said it a few days ago. 
After the first day stuck in your room, you had said it that night. All you had wanted to do that day was fight and he hadn’t been able to give you even that. He knew you were right. It was stupid to stay. 
Even if things are okay now. 
You had said his name so clearly with such urgency that he believed you might be about to start another argument in the middle of the night.
“Din?” You had grabbed the front of his shirt and it wasn’t until he’d tried to talk to you that he’d realized you were still asleep. 
“Are you okay, sarad?” He sat up and cradled your head in his hands but you’d only held on tighter as you mumbled in your sleep.
“I love you.” And just like that you were collapsing back in his arms, still asleep as if nothing had happened. 
He hadn’t cried like he did that night since the kid left. 
And it didn’t matter when you didn’t say it back in the morning. (Despite the fact that he had said it quite a bit.) You loved him and he knew it. And he had made sure to show you just how much he loved you on that second day. 
He grins as you sit down on the bed with a yawn. He takes it upon himself to kneel beside you, unlacing the back of your gown. You have no resistance as he helps peel the rain soaked fabric from your skin. 
“Let me get you a change of clothes.” He leaves you to get out of the rest as he finds you a simple set of sleep wear. You let him redress you until he finally lays you down and stands, going to change out of his own wet clothes. 
When he steps out of the fresher you’ve turned the lights off he's in a clean flight suit with his helmet on as he slides under the blankets with you. 
“Warm enough?” The cabin feels colder than the castle as he pulls you closer. 
“I’m perfectly comfortable here.” Your voice is heavy with sleep as he rests his chin on the top of your head, beskar bumping against your hair. 
“Get some sleep.” He mumbles, not bothering to close his own eyes. 
“You promised you’d eat the candy.” You whisper into the darkness, you sound  barely conscious. 
“I did not.” At least he’s pretty sure he didn’t, he’s realized at this point that if he says anything with enough confidence you usually believe it. 
“You alluded to it.” You’re right, he probably did. 
“Do you really want to see the damage I would do after eating that thing?” He’ll never do it. In all honesty he’s a little nervous he’ll accidentally hurt you.
“A little.” You flip over in his arms so you’re facing him now, when you look at him he finds himself falling victim to the pleading look in your eyes. Damn nightvision. 
“Go to sleep.” He has to close his eyes, if he stares at you too long he’ll give in despite his own worries. “I love you.” He murmurs. He needs you to know it. 
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” You laugh softly before going silent. 
It only takes a few more minutes before your breathing gets quiet and steady against him. 
When he’s certain you’re asleep he reaches over to turn the lamp back on. You’d think with how often he does this that you’d have seen his face on accident at some point but maybe he’s just really lucky. 
He likes to look at you without the helmet on.
It’s fine with it, but nothing compares to seeing you without the barrier. Sometimes, if he’s still wearing the helmet and he takes it off you smile in your sleep when the airlock hisses. But since you’re insistent on not looking he doesn’t get a lot of opportunities to really look at you. So he does it on nights like these. 
You get so sleepy after sex. 
So he gets to hold you, and watch how your eyes flutter open the tiniest bit when he can’t help himself and kisses your cheeks until he can bring himself to sleep. Or how you mumble back to him when he whispers things to you in Mando’a. 
Most importantly you look less worried when you sleep. You always look so worried but not when you’re like this. There is plenty to be worried about so he can’t hold it against you. 
He’s going to build you a house someday. And he’s going to give you a garden. 
So you can go outside and look at the flowers whenever you want. 
And you won’t ever have to worry again. 
With a soft hiss of air he removes his helmet, setting it somewhere in the sheets as he looks at you, unburdened. He likes the way your lips part just a little bit as the corners of your mouth lift. 
He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek before rolling over to rest his head on your chest so he can feel you breathe until he falls asleep, it helps him to match your breathing. Your hands hold him, even in your sleep you run your hands across his back and shoulders. One time you had a nightmare and you pulled his hair so hard you’d woke yourself up. But he’d never complain, it’s one of his favorite things about you. You love him even when you’re sleeping. Like right now, your nails lighty scratch at the nape of his neck. 
It helps him sleep.
When he wakes up he’s got a blanket thrown over his head and you’re already up, sitting at the table.
“You fell asleep without your helmet on.” He hears you grumble. 
“Sorry.” He chuckles as he searches for it in the mess of sheets only to find you’d set it on the floor beside him. Once it’s properly in place he finds you reading. He stands behind you, looking over your shoulder. 
“How did you find that?” He tries to grab the translation book but you swat his hand away. 
“You said we had no secrets.” Your eyes are scanning the pages. “Ner means mine.” You grin up at him as you say it. 
“Yes, it does.” He stares right back down at you. 
You lean backwards, grabbing the front of his shirt. 
“Ner.” 
Would you think less of him if you knew how often his face turned red when you spoke to him like that? A few weeks ago that kind of worry would drive him mad, but now? He knows you wouldn’t mind, knowing you'd probably feel accomplished to get such a reaction from him. 
“Gar serim.” You’re right. He murmurs back before getting your things together, listening to the sound of the pages frantically flipping behind him as you look for the words.
When you find the page you give him a dopey smile 
He suddenly remembers something, going to the fresher and searching through last night's wet clothes he finds the vial, bringing it to you, you don’t need any instruction from him as you pop the cap off, drinking the contents before setting it aside. 
“What do you want to do today?” He holds up the scraps of your dress, trying to decide if it’s even worth putting back on. 
“I’m a little tired, maybe we could read today.” You turn just in time to watch him toss it back on the ground. 
“Sounds perfect.” This will give him some much needed time to think.
He has a plan for today. There are a few things that he needs to get done before he leaves.
Like tell you that he has to leave. 
Of course he doesn’t want to leave you, even if it’s only going to be for a few days, but he wants to do this the right way and to do that he needs to leave. 
Just a few days. And then he doesn’t have to leave you ever again. 
And he needs to get away from you long enough to make the failsafe he knows you don’t want. You’re always together at this point, (not that he would have it any other way.) so it won’t be easy to find time away to do it but he’ll figure it out. 
“We should get going.” He’s pretty sure he has everything he needs and you need to be back in your room before any staff might notice you’re gone. 
“But  I wanna keep doing this.” You give him your sad eyes as you gesture to the book and he’s already ready to give in. 
“You can bring that to the library.” He groans and that’s all the convincing needed to get you on your feet. He manages to get you back to your room just before the girls arrive. He stands where he’s expected to stand out in the hall. It’s the only time he really spends away from you. 
When the door opens he instinctively stands up a little straighter.
They put you in a white dress. 
A pretty white dress. 
Did you know what this would do to him? 
You can’t possibly know the effect this kind of thing has on him, if you did you wouldn’t put him through this. 
“Ready?” He says as he peers at the translation book still happily tucked under your arm.
“Of course.” He’s mesmerized by your gown, it’s simpler than the ones they normally do you up in, white fabric flowing off your shoulders down to the floor, as you walk it trails behind you a bit. It’s a familiar quiet as he walks you to those large wooden doors, opening them as you rush inside. 
“What do you want to read today?” You’re searching around the shelves, you’ve already set your own reading in the nook. 
“Surprise me.” He won’t be reading today anyway, he needs to plan. 
“Here.” You hand him a book on speeder maintenance, normally he’d be thrilled to spend the day reading the sort of thing but he really should just take today to think. 
He sits first. Leaving space between his legs for you to sit which you happily do. Once you’re settled he opens his book, pretending to read as he lets his mind focus on what's important. 
Starting with the part where he tells you he’s leaving.
Or that he’s decided rather recently that he needs to leave.   
He should just do it now, get it out of the way so it stops bothering him, especially because he’d like to leave as soon as possible, but you seem so relaxed right now and he’d hate to ruin that. 
So he’ll focus more on the trip itself than the telling you part. 
It should only take a few days. A quick trip to the forge and back. 
He’s pretty sure he’s found out where the convert currently is. He doesn't have as much free time as he used to so it took a little outside help, seeking out old colleagues until finally hearing word of an outer rim planet where they might be located. He’ll catch a transport ship there, take care of what needs to be taken care of, and be back to you before he knows it. 
Then you can plan your life together. 
He would love to just bring you to the forge with him, go from there and never look back. That would be ideal. To get you out of here as quickly as possible. But that’s not possible, if he’s gonna go this he’s gonna do it right, so he’ll plan everything down to the last detail to make sure that it’s as safe as possible. If he’s being realistic he knows you’ll have to do something drastic, probably along the lines of faking your death. 
Will he have to kill Kodo? 
He’d like to. 
He’s wanted to kill Kodo for some time now, he’s just a little worried you’d be mad, you were so mad when he hit him. 
He never wanted you to be that mad at him ever again. 
So maybe he won’t. 
That would be the easiest way to get you out though, to be fair. Kill Kodo and run, and deal with the consequences after. He’ll hide you away somewhere until things die down and then he’ll build you something permanent. A home for the both of you. 
He could also just whisk you away into the night one of these days. 
He honestly isn’t sure how long they’d look for you, the last thing he’d want is for you to have to live a life on the run, he wants for the both of you to be able to settle. If it was clear he had taken you it would be deemed a kidnapping, it would be a long search, how long would they look if they believed you just ran away? He doesn’t talk to other staff members enough to know how seriously the royal family would take such a thing. 
Faking your death would probably be the easiest thing. 
No one comes looking for you. 
He isn’t entirely sure how you’ll handle that suggestion but if you’re serious about starting a life together it isn’t going to be easy. 
“I’ll be right back.” He stands, and you immediately give him a confused look, he never gets up and leaves, but he’s just realized that you’ll need to be taken care of while he’s gone. Who will protect you when he’s away? He definitely doesn’t trust anyone here to watch over you, Elaine would be his first choice but she’s busy when she isn’t tending to you and in all honesty he isn’t sure what she would do if something were to happen to you. 
So he’ll have to go with someone who he knows is available to watch you and who he’s certain won’t harm you. 
You aren’t going to be happy with his choice. 
When he steps out into the hall he calls his name, a few moments later Leo appears, he already seems reluctant, Din never summons him but this is important, and he doesn’t have any other options. 
“I’m leaving, tomorrow, I have to take care of some things, Kodo said it would be fine for me to take time off when I took the job.” Tomorrow. Well that’s settled then he supposes. The twi’lek trembles under his gaze, clearly unsure as to where he’s going with this.  
“While I’m gone you will watch her.” Din adds on at the end, Leo looks clearly unhappy with this arrangement as he stumbles back a bit. 
“Me?” 
“I won’t repeat myself. You will watch her, you will make sure she doesn’t leave the castle when I am gone. If somebody tries to get near her, you stop them, if somebody tries to hurt her, you will stand between them, if she gets hurt you will feel whatever pain she feels tenfold upon my return. If she so much as gets a papercut while she’s reading in the library there will be repercussions.” He straightens his posture to make himself the tiniest bit more imposing over Leo. “Is that understood?”
“Yes, you’re understood.” Based on the fear in Leo’s eyes he’s certain he may have gone a little overboard but he’d rather be safe than sorry. 
“Good.”
That’s taken care of. 
Once Leo is gone, disappearing down the hall, he opens the door, slipping back into the library where you’re standing in the entryway.
At least he doesn’t have to figure out how to tell you. 
“You’re leaving.” You say it like it’s a fact. Which of course you now know it is. 
“Yes.” No sense in hiding it. 
“And you just weren’t going to tell me?” He definitely should have told you. 
“I was just about to tell you.” He hates when you look at him the way you are now. Like you can see right through the steel, like you know he’s lying, like you can see the guilty expression on his face. “I was going to tell you soon. I have to go take care of some things.” 
“Take me with you.” You say it more like a demand and less like a request. He probably should have seen that one coming, even if he wasn’t going to get something to surprise you with he probably wouldn’t be allowed to take you off planet. 
“I wish I could, sarad, but I have to go alone, I’ll only be gone a few days.” Kriff, he really should have told you sooner. 
“Where are you going?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. 
“I… can’t tell you.” Not a great excuse, he knows that. 
“If I’m being honest I don’t love the sound of that.” He can’t blame you, if your roles were reversed he wouldn’t just let you go. 
“I know but I need you to trust me, I’ll only be gone a few days.”
“And you absolutely have to go?” You sound less mad and more upset now. If he wasn’t leaving to do something for you, your expression alone would be enough to make him stay. 
“Yes. He says it like he’s confirming it for himself. 
“I’ll miss you.” All the anger has left your voice, now you just sound sad. 
“I’ll miss you.” More than anything. 
“When will you be back?” 
“I’m not sure exactly, I won’t be long.” Unless he can’t find the convert, but you don’t need to know that part. You nod and he’s a little surprised at your acceptance of all this. “I have to leave in the morning.” A deep frown settles on your face. 
“So soon?” He really should have told you sooner.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. If you have to then you have to.” You give him such a sad smile, he wishes he didn’t have to go but he wants to do this right. 
“Can you stay here, I’ll come get you in a few hours.” He cradles your face in his hands, wishing he could wash away any of your doubts, but now that you know he should probably go get ready. “I have to go pack a few things, I’ll be back before dark, okay?” 
“And then you’ll stay with me the rest of the night?” And every night after. 
“Of course.” 
“Okay then, hurry back.” 
This will also probably be the only chance he gets to make that fail safe.  
He lifts his helmet a bit to plant a kiss on your forehead before leaving you, watching as you instinctively close your eyes as he does. There isn’t a lot of time for him to do what he needs to do before you’ll be expecting him so he gets back to the cabin as quickly as possible.
He’s quick with everything, packing his bag with only the essentials and tossing the empty box down before finally sitting down at the table. 
Now to write the note. A letter with instructions on what to do if something ever happens to him. 
He doesn’t like the idea of you being left alone with your husband. The thought of it makes him sick. 
If another body guard were hired they wouldn’t protect you from him. 
Maybe he should ask Elaine to help you if that happens. 
She could get you out. 
If he wasn’t here he would want you to leave as quickly as possible, to go somewhere safe. He lists out all the places you could go, names and coordinates of people who can keep you safe at the mention of his name. He spends a solid hour staring at that piece of paper, writing out anything he’d want you to know before folding it up and setting it in the box. 
With that taken care of he kneels on the floor, feeling around until locating the familiar loose board under the kitchen table. 
He’d found it a week after moving in and it seemed like a perfectly good spot to hide things. He’s got a collection of things already set aside for you, he pulls each item from its hiding spot, putting them into the box before holding up a small chainmail shirt. He retrieves the stick shift knob from the shelf, wrapping it in the shirt and putting it in the box. 
In his note he’s left you with a task, to give those to the kid, and to tell him that he’s sorry. 
Lastly he fills a bag with credits, about a month's salary, you should be able to buy yourself a ship if you want, he isn’t sure if you’d know how to fly it but with the money provided you can pay someone to fly it for you. With that he sets the box under an extra flight suit in his bag before returning to the castle, on his way out the door he grabs the few bars of beskar he has. 
You’re right where he left you in the library, your brows furrowed as you stare at that damn book, he should have hidden it better. 
“Wanna go get some dinner?” You look up when he speaks, holding his hand out which you gladly take as he pulls you towards him. 
“We can do that. You’re all packed?” Thankfully you look less upset than you had earlier. 
“All packed.” He drops your hand as he opens the door, following you as you walk to the kitchens. He watches the way the back of your dress just barely drags along the stone floors as you ask for two dinners, handing his to him to carry with a smile as you continue to walk.
When you arrive back at your chambers you’re quick to lock the door, he watches as you rush to the closet, already sitting with your back to him when he steps inside, dim lamp light illuminates the room as he sits, his back brushing against yours as he listens to the sounds of your eating. 
What he wouldn’t give to eat face to face. 
He can’t remember the last time he shared a normal meal with someone. He ate in front of the kid but he always kept the helmet on, it would have been years and years ago, maybe with his parents. 
He finds the latch for his helmet, tossing it aside, he’s already decided he won’t be putting it back on tonight, he chews his food thoughtfully. What would life look like with you after this place? He certainly wouldn’t want to eat dinner like this every night. 
Maker, why won’t you just look? Everything would be easier if you’d just look. He would abandon his creed entirely if that’s what you wanted. Instead he loves the one person in the galaxy who doesn’t want to look. 
“You’re being quiet.” You finally break the silence as he sits up a little straighter.
“I’m always quiet.” He murmurs. 
“You think I don’t know that? You’re being extra quiet, what’s wrong.” 
“Nothing’s wrong.” He takes another bit as you lean back against him, resting your back on his as he hears you set your plate aside.
“You’ve been quiet all day.” Of course he has, he has to leave you tomorrow and you’ve been in a white dress all day. 
“I’m quiet every day.” He finishes his food quickly, reaching around blindly until he finds your plate, standing to set the both outside the room, when he turns around this time he faces you, kneeling on the floor behind you as he plays with the lace on the back of the dress, lining a series of buttons in a straight line down your spine. 
“You’re avoiding the point.” You snap at him but he just continues to trail his fingers across the intricate patterns of your dress.
“I’m just gonna miss you, that’s all.” 
“I’m gonna miss you too.” Your tone has softened.
“Want me to show you how much I’m gonna miss you?” He gives the back of your gown a teasing tug. 
“That might be nice.” You’re already reaching towards the lamp but he takes your hand, guiding it back into your lap. 
“Leave it.”
“Din…” You have a soft warning tone as he kisses your exposed shoulder. 
“Please, I want to see you.” He murmurs against your skin as he bunches up the fabric of your dress, pulling it up towards your hips. 
“But-” He’s quick to cut you off. 
“It’s fine, if you don’t look then you won’t see.” He swiftly unlatches his armor, setting it aside as he pulls you into his lap, his chest flush with your back. He turns to kiss your cheek, watching your eyes flutter shut as he does. 
He bunches up your skirt enough so he can see your thighs, pulling his gloves off so he can touch you, he likes the feeling of his skin on yours, how often does he get to have this? Only ever with you, not that he’d have it any other way. You’re just so soft, he likes the way you feel when he spreads your thighs a little wider, watching your mouth open a tiny bit as you inhale sharply. He’s already terribly hard, trying not to rut against your ass as he lets one hand dip between your legs, under your skirt, as the other one drifts up towards your chest, splayed out across your sternum to keep you in place.
He pushes your panties to the side, admiring the wetness he finds already there as he swipes his fingers along your seam. He tilts his head to the side, eager to watch your expression unburdened by his helmet as he pushes two fingers into you. 
Once he’s in your peripheral you close your eyes, leaving him to observe the way your mouth falls open as he gently slides his digits in and out, feeling you shift in his lap to grind against his palm. 
He’s fascinated by you, by the way you move in sync with him, with each movement of his hand you match it with a rock of your hips, or by arching your back.
“Din-” Your voice comes out as a high strangled cry that makes his cock ache against the fabric of his flight suit. 
“Go ahead, I wanna watch.” He mumbles as he presses his cheek to yours, staring down, mesmerized by the sight of you riding his fingers, his own mouth falling open as he feels your entire body tense up, feeling you clamp down on his fingers as you come. He keeps his fingers inside of you until your breathing evens out, once you come down from your orgasm he removes them, bringing them to his mouth as he uses his other hand to reach between the two of you, pulling his cock free. He stares down at the sight of himself against the pretty white fabric of your dress as he moans against his own fingers, stroking himself for a moment before popping his digits out of his mouth, grabbing your hips and lifting you a bit. 
He lets out a small groan as your hands reach down to line him up at your entrance, he lets go of your hips, letting you sink yourself down onto him, his hands wrapping around your thighs instead, squeezing the meat there with a pleased hum. 
You’re going at your own pace as he fights his own impatience, doing his best to not thrust up into you as he latches his mouth onto your shoulder, biting softly as you take nearly all of him, gasping his name the entire time. 
After another moment you’re fully sat in his lap, your breathing heavy as one of his hands moves from your thigh to your clit.
“Can you come again? Like this?” He rasps the words out against your skin, you nod as he begins to swirl his fingers in small precise circles, his moans match your own as he feels you slowly lift yourself off of him, your chest bouncing as you fuck yourself on him. 
Gods as his witness he’ll never wear his helmet again during sex. 
It’s just better to really see you like this, he can’t believe he deprives himself of this so often, the way your body trembles, the sounds you make, everything is simply better without the filters and the modulation. 
“Maker- Din!” Your strained plea snaps him out of his thoughts as he looks at your face, your eyes and nose scrunched up in frustration. “Please, fuck me, Din please.” You always sound so sweet, at this rate he’ll never be able to say no to you.  
He sits up a little to give himself more leverage, one arm wrapped around your waist to steady you, his other hand reaching behind himself to prop himself up as he thrusts up into you. His hips snapping up as he grits his teeth, a growl forming in his throat. He keeps you there for a bit, keeping up a brutal pace as he lets gravity do most of the work, bouncing you on his length, eventually relaxing after feeling your legs give out from under you. He sits back up on his knees, steadying you with both bands now, keeping you impaled on his cock as he leans forward, kissing up the column of your throat.    
“Kiss me, please.” He murmurs against your jaw, desperate for more of you as he lets out a low whine, wishing you would just look at him.
Your eyes shut as you turn your head to kiss him, he brings one hand up to your face, his other still on your stomach as he groans, rocking his hips upwards again. 
“You can look.” He pants, holding his forehead to yours as he stares at your face, contorted in pleasure as he pushes himself deeper into you, watching the way your eyes flutter a bit, never actually opening.
“I- I can’t.” You gasp out as he fucks up into you, short shallow thrusts, relishing in the way you take him, squeezing his cock with every rock of his hips, the way your face looks as he leans in for another kiss, quick and chaste, a sharp juxtaposition to how he’s fucking you, only pulling out in the slightest before slamming back into you. 
“You can, I want you to.” His voice is ragged and desperate at this point. 
“I will, just, not tonight.” 
“Ni vercopaanir gar Ru'kel haa'taylir.” I wish you would look. 
“I will, Din- I promise I will.” He’s sure you didn’t learn enough to know what he said but he’s still satisfied with that answer.
“Okay.” He kisses you again, swallowing your moans as he picks up the pace, pulling you down onto him as he rocks his hips upwards. He manipulates your body like it’s nothing, his hands holding you tightly enough to keep you upright as he continues to slam himself into you, you’re soaking his cock at this point as he muffles his grunts with your mouth. He knows you’re both nearly there, with the way your words become nonsensical. He turns his head to whisper into your ear. “Come for me, sarad.” He groans, his mouth falling open as a slew of filthy noises fall past his lips he feels you pulse around him, he frantically goes to pull out but you shake your head no, slamming your hips back against his and riding out your orgasm he watches you mumble, barely coherently. 
“In- Inside, Din.” 
You don’t have to tell him twice. You give him the sweetest cry as he bites down on your shoulder, he growls against your flesh as he releases the fire pooling in his stomach. 
“Bid jate- bid jate par ni.” So good for me. He mumbles against your shoulder.
He fucks his cum deeper into you with a few more sloppy thrusts before sitting back on his heels, staring at the ceiling as his chest heaves, letting you rest back against him as you go limp in his arms. 
Once he’s caught his breath he leans back, keeping himself inside you as he kicks his legs out. He swallows, still a little unsteady as you sit up, one of his hands wanders to you back, drawing a star there with one of his fingers. 
“Are you okay?” He whispers softly just before you lay back on top of him.
“Why do you do that?” He doesn’t stop you this time as you reach over and turn the lamp off, taking his hands and guiding him to turn the both of you onto your sides as his erection softens inside of you. 
“Do what?” He blinks, adjusting his eyes to the darkness and biting back a groan as you adjust yourself to put your hips flush with his.
“You switch languages, usually when you’re near the end, or when you say something kind.”
Oh.
He’s never really thought about that. 
“How did you know what I said?” He brushes a bit of hair behind your ear as he runs his hand down and up your spine slowly. 
“I asked my question first.”
“Fair enough. I guess it just happens, I’ve never really thought about why. I suppose it’s just another layer of armor, another way to conceal things.” You don’t respond, presumably thinking over his response. “Your turn, how did you know what I said?”
“I guessed.” Smart girl. 
“Of course you did.” He places a kiss against the back of your neck before resting the bridge of his nose there. “Do you wanna sleep like this?” He rocks his hips a bit to accentuate his point, drawing a gasp from you. 
“Yes, please.” You whisper back.
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He smiles before closing his eyes, wrapping his arms around you, the last thing he feels before falling asleep is you intertwining your fingers with his. 
He wakes up before you, careful to leave you undisturbed as he reaches over to turn on the lamp, happy to just watch you for a few more minutes before he leaves. Watching the rise and fall of your chest. After a moment he realizes he slipped out of you while he slept.
He’s in no rush but he knows the moment you wake he’ll have to go so he stays still for a while, enjoying the morning quiet until your eyes slowly open, and you stretch your arms with a groan. 
“Good morning, sarad.” He says softly, kissing your shoulder as you shudder at the sensation. 
“You’re leaving.” You whisper to him.
“I am.” 
Much to his surprise you turn to face him, of course he realizes a second too late that your eyes are closed. 
“Be safe.” You murmur, taking his face in your hands before kissing him. Maybe this will be a happy morning despite his worries about going. 
“Always.” He gives you another kiss before sitting up, dressing himself quickly, looking over at you every so often only to find that your eyes are closed until you hear the soft hiss of his helmet. 
“I’m serious, you better be careful.” You sit up and face him as he kneels beside you.
“I will, I promise.” He holds your face in one hand. “Goodbye, sarad’ika.” You give him a radiant smile. 
“Ret'urcye mhi, cyare.” Goodbye, beloved. That’s what you’d been learning yesterday. He’s a little taken aback by the sound of those words leaving your mouth, his own smile forming. 
“Jate bora” Good job. 
He doesn’t tell you how poorly you pronounced each of those words, too infatuated to care as he leans down, lifting his helmet enough to kiss your forehead. 
“I’ll be back in a few days, okay?”
“Okay.” 
He uses his free hand to gently grab your chin, giving you one last kiss.
“I’ll see you soon.” Once he’s shut the closet door he slips the fail safe box under your bed. 
And just like that he’s out the door, on his way to the nearest shipyard. 
It goes surprisingly smoothly. 
He’s only gone for about four days, he gets lucky as far as transportation goes, managing to catch a cargo ship going directly to the planet he’s looking for. He doesn’t recognize it and in all honesty he isn’t sure he’s ever been there but he finds the convert easily enough.
It took a bit of convincing but he got what he needed from the armorer and just like that he was catching a ship back to you with two rings attached to a thin chain around his neck. 
He’s eager to see you immediately after landing but he’s filthy from the trip so he goes to the cabin first, shedding his armor and clothes before stepping into the fresher. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t started taking care of himself more after meeting you. 
He’d avoided mirrors all together until you. 
He’d shave when his beard got unmanageable. He’d cut his hair when it stuck out the back of his helmet. And that was it. 
And then you came along and suddenly he was staring at himself in the dingy mirror he’s in front of now. The first day he realized he wanted to impress you he spent hours in the cabin fresher, trying to even out his facial hair, and give himself something that resembled a respectable haircut. He needs another one soon, staring at himself now he knows he’ll need to shave before he sees you but he can probably go a few more weeks without a haircut. 
He’s pretty sure you like his hair long, even if you’ve never seen it, that’s the only reason he hasn’t just buzzed it all, the way he’d normally do it. You’re always touching it. 
So he cleans up his beard before stepping into the shower, he’s in a hurry, scrubbing away the days of travel and grime. He finds a clean flightsuit and dons his armor as quickly as possible, his hair is still wet when he puts the helmet back on. 
He makes a beeline towards the castle as the sun sets, the promise of you drives him forward despite his exhaustion. 
He checks the library first, finding the nook to be empty. He goes to your chambers, if his count is correct you would have had dinner with Kodo yesterday, so if you aren’t reading you should be in your room. He’s pleased to see a nervous looking Leo outside your door, his eyes go wide as Din approaches. 
He stops a few inches away from Leodall, looming over him. 
“Everything went smoothly?” His voice is low and husky. His professional voice. 
“Yes, of course.” He’s pretty sure Leo is too scared of him to lie so he gives him a curt nod of approval. 
“Then you’re dismissed, thank you.” He really is thankful, despite his dislike for the twi’lek. He watches him scurry away before hastily pushing your door open, stepping inside to find you there. 
You’re laying on your stomach, a book laid out on the bed in front of you. A look of anger crosses your face when you look up, assuming you’d find Leo in the doorway but once you see him you’re sitting up, rushing over to him and wrapping your arms around him. 
“I missed you.” You mumble against his chest plate as he returns your embrace.
“It was only a few days.” He laughs softly as you look up at him. He’s just happy to be with you again. 
“That doesn’t mean anything, I still missed you.” With the way you’re looking at him it’s a wonder he doesn’t get on one knee right now. 
Instead he can’t help it as he yawns, he’d been in such a rush to return to you he’d barely slept during his trip.
“Are you tired?” Your brows furrow in concern as he shakes his head no. 
“No, I’m fine, I’m just happy to see you.” He’s about to lift his helmet to kiss you, but you frown and pull him towards the closet. He isn’t entirely sure he’s going to be able to properly fuck you in this state but he’ll make it work. As you shut the door he starts taking off his armor and you turn to help him, carefully removing each piece until he’s in just his flight suit and helmet. You gently put your hands on his shoulders, pushing him down to the floor before kneeling beside him. He puts his hands on your waist and is a little surprised when you tenderly pull them away. 
“Lay on your stomach.” You tilt your head to the side and he’s about to argue but you click your tongue and point at the blankets. “I let you disappear for a few days with no questions, you owe me, now lay down. And take off your flight suit.” 
With a reluctant groan he does as he’s told, sliding his flight suit down to his waist, his confusion only growing as you straddle his back. His bewilderment vanishes though as he feels your hands kneading his shoulders. He’s about to flip himself over and tell you he’s fine but as he opens his mouth to complain you dig the heel of your palm into his back and instead a moan slips out. 
He doesn’t make much of a fuss after that, letting you methodically take care of the many knots and tense spots across his back. 
He turns his head to the side, closing his eyes as you hum a song to yourself, caressing and kneading every inch of visible skin until you’re satisfied. He feels you lean down, planting a kiss along his spine before climbing off of him and laying down beside him, he sits up with another rather embarrassing moan. He’s trying to flip you over to do you as you laugh, pulling him back down to lay with you. 
“You need sleep.” You once again catch him off guard as he feels your fingers on the helmet release, the kiss of air accompanied by the click of the lamp as you remove his helmet, kissing his forehead. 
“I missed you too.” He whispers into the darkness, realizing he hasn’t said it yet.
“I know you did, now get some sleep.” You pull his head down against your chest, squeezing his shoulder as you do. He really is exhausted, he hadn’t realized until he was reunited with you that he doesn’t sleep as well without you. 
“I love you.” He sleepily mumbles against your chest. 
No one takes care of him the way you do. Your soft hands continue to rub his back as he succumbs to sleep. 
“I love you too.” He feels another kiss on his forehead as he exhales the last of his energy. 
If he wasn’t so tired he probably would have proposed right then and there. 
Having the rings has made him a mess.
Anytime you do anything he just wants to ask. When you’d kissed him this morning, when you’d walked out of your room in a green dress grinning at him like you’d done it just for him, when you’d handed him the speeder maintenance book from before because you just knew he hadn’t read it last time. 
And right now, as you read like you always do, sitting beside him. 
Now more than ever he wants to ask. 
He had wanted so badly for it to be special. 
He was thinking of maybe doing it in the gardens some night, where he had kissed you for the first time. But you look exactly how he always wants you to look right now. 
Your face buried in a romance book with a smile dancing on your lips. 
Tucked away in the nook, safe from the world. 
“How much of the Mando’a book did you end up reading?” He plays with the edge of the page he’s on now, he’s been pretending to read again, unable to pull his focus from you. 
“The translation book? Not a lot.” He watches as you turn to give him a smile. 
“Do you know what riduur means?” He knows you don’t, but he can’t stop himself from saying it. 
“No, I don't think I learned that.” You close your book, staring at him curiously. 
“It means partner, or spouse.” 
“Oh. Okay…” Your eyes get a little bigger once he says that. 
He gives you a nod before looking back down at his own book, silently cursing himself out for not going through with it. He hadn’t realized that having rings made would make him fall apart every time he’s in your presence. 
You’re just so… perfect. Do you have to be so perfect? You learn his language and you respect him and you love him and you’re endlessly sweet. 
He just wants to keep you like this forever.
Safe and happy. 
That’s why he can’t help himself as he sets his book down, he fidgets with his helmet for a moment before turning off the modulator, he wants you to hear his voice without the filter, sitting up, he cradles your face in his hands. 
“Can I ask you something?” He whispers.  
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