#and many more will suffer the same fate

[suratan-zir]

Imagine if russia...

[nikonuee]

SVSSS AU where due to dimension shenanigans Shang Qinghua gets to meet alternative versions of himself. Including notable figures such as Original Flavour SQH and the SQH who did take the rock route when he first met MBJ :)) OG!SQH is much more proper and peak-lordy looking then our local hamster and is just so so grossed out by the demon loving SQH's. Why on Earth is a version of himself Married to Mobei-Jun? and the other one is fawning over him too! Like you willing chose to be into that fucking thing? at least one of them managed to kill the demon...

Meanwhile Rock-hua (Who is much more scarred and physically inclined since he didn't have a MBJ to call on whenever he got into trouble) is looking at Mobei-Jun like "Ah, it's nice to see him again, especially with his head in one piece :))"

Mobei-Jun is very conflicted about everything that's going on.

[three-dee-ess]

going up to bat against the wii u lovers on my 3DS blog was a mistake i did not realize it had that many defenders to this day

[solemnly-lament]

hello, many winged fri WHY DID YOU DISTORT

"1.76MHz broke out again. I thought it would be helpful to my plan but it was not."

"Such is life and such is death. A neverending dance."

[lactose-tolarant]

sad day for all mr doombringer cosplayers on roblox

over 100 bucket hats were deleted from the market place earlier today 💔💔💔💔💔💔

[pinolitas]

my cousins who have money and privilege to be moving back and forth between the US and Mexico treat living in the US like a study abroad program that they can just pick up whenever they want and go back home to tell stories about it im sorry i have to say it they dont have good reason to be doing that when they have kids to raise 😭 youve set up the foundation for a terrible childhood by moving them back and forth and having them live with different people all the time like part of the year they live with their grandma and then with their dad and then with their mom you are fucking up those kids' mental stability 😭😭😭😭

[ofsilentwinds]

just having the stark realization that the failed act of rebellion was 24 years before katniss volunteered. that begs the question of whether or not there were more attempts. did johanna suffer the same fate as haymitch? did the capitol lie and say she was hidden the entirety of her games because she was given a similar (failed) assignment from beetee? did they have to erase countless hours of footage? edit things to make it seem like she was never where she actually was, simply hidden away from the chaos? how many mockingjay figures did they cycle through before landing on katniss? how many did they cycle through before the revolution actually began?

[baeshijima]

thoughts on being engaged to duke!sunday, the head of the oak family, an incredibly influential figurehead within society, the close subordinate of emperor gopher wood who brought him and his sister in and raised him like his own, and the villain who faces a tragic ending in a novel you recently finished — the very same one you just so happen to find yourself transmigrated into. he is as cunning as he is blinded, a trait which brought ruin to many in the empire, and one which ultimately brought ruin to himself at the hands of the protagonists.

as luck would have it, you became a barely mentioned side character from a marquis family, whose role was to be the villain's wife stuck in a one-sided love who, too, would get caught up in the tragedy alongside him. however, now that it's you who is stuck in this position, you're determined to try any means necessary to deter him from going down that path, all in an effort to escape your predestined doomed fate!

of course, you didn't expect it to be easy. the day of your arrival in this world was already the night before your wedding, so you had little time to prepare yourself for the nonchalance of your supposed family, how they viewed you as but a means — a tool — to boost their influence and prosperity, the dismissive mannerisms of the household servants, and the absolute beauty of a man you will be married to.

(seriously. the novel descriptions did not do him justice. he was like... like... like he was handcrafted by god himself! and not to mention his sister, robin, was the very epitome of an angel! perhaps you're destined to perish by the god-tier visuals instead...)

to say the least, the wedding ceremony went by quickly. safe to say you didn't spend the night; he was cordial and gentlemanly upon letting you know that he won't do anything until you're ready, that you can take this relationship slow, but somehow you ended up feeling a tad insulted. like, who leaves their newly wedded alone in a big cold bed as they walk out on their own? a sick bastard that's who!

well, whatever. it's not like you need nor want to consummate with him! besides, you have bigger things to worry about — things such as your impending death. and, of course, the only way to stop sunday that you can imagine working is by chipping away at his resolve bit by bit, and opening his eyes to reality.

he is a tragic character, one who cares more about the well-being of penacony and its people than anyone else, but was manipulated into getting his hands dirty in the emperor's stead. you knew this. you sobbed over his story, cursed out the protagonists, and even fought internet randos on novel forums about sunday's motivation and how,

no, he is not just a stupid villain. he is a complex character with flaws and humanity and was cruelly taken advantage of by someone he considered family. he was deceived through the suffering the emperor wanted him to see to make him easily manipulated, creating a rift between him and robin to have that prominent separation. you know what? maybe you're just a !%#@ who can't even #@?"% read properly!

and yet you still find yourself at a loss when faced with the walls he has in place. your initial efforts went as well as it possibly could have; you trying to earnestly help him, while he "kindly" dismisses your offers! well, "kindly" being more condescending since you could read between the lines of his mannerisms and amiable demeanour, but that's fine! you expected this! that just means you have to double down on your sincerity, get through to his heart (somehow), and help him realise humanity isn't as weak as he's led to believe!

you have three years until the novel's plot officially starts, and another year after that until your demise. that's plenty of time to get him to warm up to you!

it was easier said than done, but after your valiant effort and abundance of time put into this relationship, which admittedly you could do with some of that lost time back, you could give yourself a pat on the back with the progress you made! while you definitely could have done without a lot of the headaches, it's safe to say sunday has significantly warmed up to you in comparison to your wedding day. he now willingly eats all his meals with you with some real conversation, takes garden strolls with you in the early evenings, invites you out for dinner at a restaurant at least four times a week, hell he's even joked and laughed with you more frequently! but most importantly, he has begun asking for your opinion before finalising any decisions he is required to make. and he actually listens and considers your side! now, that certainly is the best outcome you could hope for after all this time, and it most definitely will help in your endeavour to save you both from the protagonists!

however, you've noticed he's been more... affectionate? well, at the very least he now willingly holds your hand when in private (not just in moments when you're in the public eye and he has to make sure the family's reputation is spotless), sometimes he will hug you out of the blue ("i just need to... recharge. you have a way of calming me down. i hope you don't mind." ...how could you say no to his supreme god-tier face card? that's just a losing battle you won't even bother fighting against.), oftentimes he opts to just gaze wordlessly at you (robin had mentioned over one of your tea times how it almost appears as though there is no one but you in the world when sunday gazes at you with, in her words, "the eyes of a man so deeply in love!" ...whatever that's supposed to mean...), but a more recent development has been his sudden interest in kissing you; well, more specifically giving you a kiss to the back of your hand or on your forehead — certainly not anywhere near the lips! (besides, he's probably just gotten comfortable with you, enough where he can freely act without judgement. nothing more, nothing less.)

well, either way, development is development! soon enough, the time for the main plot to start has arrived. it of course follows what you remember, from the organised balls to the protagonists meeting to the political aspects of it all. the only difference is sunday's less active involvement in all the schemes and the emperor's ploy. rather, he seems more focused on you and the future of your marriage and even displayed a sudden interest in your practically non-existent relationship with one of the foreign diplomats, aventurine— wait...

"[name]," he calls your name out so sweetly you nearly disregarded it as someone else he was talking to. well, perhaps you would have done had he not suddenly appeared before you, a tight-lipped smile tugging the corners of his lips as he steadily approaches you.

oh. he doesn't seem very happy, if his tense figure is anything to go by. you wonder if one of the nobles grated his nerves a little too much this time?

sunday comes to a halt a step away from you. "i don't like that... gambler being so close to you. it... it brings me a rather unpleasant feeling." there's a slight, trembling pause. not a moment later does he close the gap between you, one knee on the ground as he matches your seated height on the fountain rim, your hands gently enclosed in both of his.

you idly wonder if this is what robin meant by the so-called "eyes of a man so deeply in love" she constantly gushed about, for the way in which he gazes up at you is enough to render you breathless.

"tell me, [name]," he begins once more. there is an underlying desperation woven within his tone, one which has your head spinning and heart thumping wildly as his trembling gaze holds you in place. "tell me, what am i to do with this fervent love and overwhelming adoration i hold for you?"

oh.

...oh.

perhaps your impending doom should be the least of your concerns when you now find yourself in the arms of a clingy husband...

(though, it's safe to say you did, in fact, manage to prevent him from succumbing to his tragic fate! you just gained a loving, yet slight slightly emotionally challenged husband along the way.

well, you can help him work through it; you have the rest of your lives now to figure it out, after all.)

[cherienymphe]

Basic Training XVIII

Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, mentions of MURDER/violence/kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

~

What had once been a great fear of yours had turned into something akin to a comfort.

The basement was a lot of things—dark, isolating, and creepy to name a few—but in the weeks that you’d been exiled to it’s suffocating walls, you slowly found solace in being left with nothing but your solitude and your thoughts. At least it felt that way. In truth, you didn’t feel much of anything at all and had grown content in that feeling.

Or lack thereof.

The days blended together until it was one long endless stretch of darkness, and it gave you so much time to think. You thought about every decision that had landed you here, all the way from your first conscious memory to that fateful day when you and your friends stopped in some seemingly unassuming town for food. If you thought about it too hard, you could feel a chill creeping over your still form.

Lingering on the day your friends were murdered threatened to put you back in that headspace you’d been in when you were first brought to this house. Your breathing would become shallow at the memory of your erratic emotions and your inability to hold your bodily fluids and the time you’d nearly lost your mind at the mere sight of blood.

You had quite literally lost your mind.

You’d been driven insane by the abuse you’d suffered and had been forced to witness, mind shattering and falling apart from the actions of the same person tasked with putting it back together in whatever manner benefited him. Peter had torn you down and built you back up like some demented caregiver and despite the fact that you knew this—recognized this—you were essentially powerless to do anything about it.

You were in too deep, this was your life now, and such a thought was both comforting and suffocating. On the one hand, you knew what was in store for you. The rest of your days were laid out before you so meticulously, a breakdown of what every single day would be like for the rest of your life. In a way…it was relieving to think that you’d never have to expend any more effort into planning a single thing about your life ever again.

…but in the same breath, that was so tragic.

The excitement of possibilities and opportunities was something you’d never feel again. You’d never have that wonder about what the next day or month or even year would bring. You briefly recalled fleeting thoughts of grad school once and possibly living abroad for a while. Peter would never allow that, and even if he wanted to, Steve would never allow him to even consider the thought.

This was your life now.

Such a simple sentence brought on far too many emotions for you to handle, and so you didn’t. Handle them, that is. You didn’t feel anything and it didn’t just start and end with the complexities of your heart. You didn’t feel the pillow beneath your head nor the thin sheets over your frame. You didn’t even feel the shift in the room when someone—no doubt Margaret or Christine—opened the door and descended the stairs to bring you food.

Surely you ate.

You were still alive, after all, but you didn’t recall eating. Truth be told, you didn’t even recall bathing or using the bathroom. If you thought long and hard about it—struggling with your memory so much that it made you frown in the darkness—you could recollect brief flashes of memories that painted a picture.

Sharon’s worried face before you as she held some orange juice in front of your face, Margaret standing in front of you in the bathroom, tone pleading as she encouraged you to empty your bladder, and even Tony and Pepper standing over your bed as Pepper said something to him, her stricken expression clear even in hazy memories.

The days and everything that happened in them blended together so seamlessly that it all started to feel like a dream. How funny it was that you once feared the basement so much it was enough to give you a panic attack, and now that you were down here you felt the calmest you’d ever felt in months. You felt unreal—untouchable even in a way—and it wasn’t long before you forgot that this wasn’t meant to be forever.

You forgot that a day would come where Peter would come down—likely with Steve in tow—and tell you that your punishment was over and you could finally rejoin him amongst the world above ground. You didn’t know how you felt about that, and you found yourself wondering if you even wanted that.

Of course, you wanted that.

You couldn’t live in darkness and solitude forever, but stepping out of this room meant going back to the problems the basement currently shielded you from. When you stepped through that threshold again, Steve and Bucky and all of the other husbands would likely still be upset with you with the mentioned being more cross than the others. You would have to step back into an atmosphere where you weren’t trusted—again—and you’d have to earn it all back…again.

You supposed you still had friends in the wives, but who was to say. Yes, you’d remained silent when you witnessed Nat escape, but you had a feeling that someone like Margaret likely wouldn’t agree with what you did. You recalled a conversation you had with her once about the needs and sanctity of the house coming first. Allowing one of the wives to escape and possibly ruin everything wasn’t exactly in line with that.

Nat didn’t seem upset with you, at all the last time you saw her, but you didn’t truly know verbatim what Peter had said to Bucky to get him to take her out of the basement. Sure, he could’ve insinuated that keeping her down here and punishing her in a harsh manner after they’d been trying for a baby wasn’t smart, but he also could have flat out said to him that according to you, Nat thinks she's pregnant.

You only wanted to save her, and while you liked to think she’d understand if she knew you told Peter, you also weren’t so sure. You weren’t sure of a lot of things anymore, and your uncertainty about so much—the result of whatever truth you thought you were living being turned upside down—made you retreat into yourself even more.

“Y/N, you need to eat something…”

The familiar voice faintly reached your ears, and as you slowly turned your head, you thought to yourself that you hadn’t even heard Margaret open the door and walk down the stairs. She was staring at you with an expression you couldn’t quite name, and it was only after some time did you register the weight in your lap.

Your gaze landed on a tray of food, and as appetizing as the toast and eggs and sausage looked, you had no desire to eat. You felt lucid for the first time in ages, and you slowly blinked before shaking your head. The words to tell her you weren’t hungry were on the tip of your tongue, but the redhead spoke before you could find your voice.

“You barely ate anything yesterday. And the day before…and the day before,” she breathed. “Steve wants to see an empty plate.”

You blinked again at that, and despite the fact that she was repeating Steve’s words, you could see her own concern in her eyes. You struggled to recall just how long you’d been down here and just how many plates you’d barely touched. You couldn’t recall, and despite the nagging at the back of your mind, you couldn’t bring yourself to want to eat.

Even so, you and Margaret knew better than anyone how Steve could be, and so you slowly reached out for a piece of toast.

“I’ll eat,” was all you said.

She seemed relieved as she left you—albeit reluctantly—and you nibbled on the bread in your hand. The taste of it on your tongue made your stomach twist, and you put the rest of it back down without thinking. You had every intention of finishing it later, but once your food was set aside, all you wanted to do was sleep.

Your sleep wasn’t dreamless, and it rarely ever was. Sometimes you dreamt of your mom and your friends and your life before Peter took you for himself like some villain. Those dreams served nothing more than to torment you, and you often woke from them with tears in your eyes, vision blurry even in the darkness.

More often than not though, you dreamt of Peter and your life here. Sometimes it was awful nightmares about Steve—and even Bucky sometimes—where his handsome face was contorted in that perpetual frown it always seemed to be in when he laid eyes on you. Only it would be so much worse.

Your brain liked to conjure up visions of him where he was absolutely murderous, and it was no secret as to why. There’d been the brief moment here and there where you wondered if Steve would just say ‘to hell’ with all of his rules and get rid of you—in the most violent and dismissive fashion—and force Peter to find a sane wife. 

A better one.

That left a bitter taste in your mouth…and you hated it.

You liked to think that the thought of Peter with someone else only upset you because you didn’t think any woman deserved to be subjected to this. You liked to think that righteously and noble of yourself, but the truth was much more demented and depraved and twisted. No woman did deserve any of this, that was true, but the thought of Peter loving someone else made your stomach churn.

You could say it until you were blue in the face that this wasn’t love—it couldn’t be—but it didn’t change how you felt. You couldn’t fathom the thought of being tossed aside and replaced, and being replaced by someone better would only add insult to the injury. It wasn’t fair that they got to break you until there was hardly anything left only to cast you aside because they didn’t like the inevitable results of their choices.

The thought made you want to be sick.

Peter would never, and you knew without a doubt that he would never, but for all that he put you through, the least he could do was remain by your side and look after you forever. Something deep within you hated him so much for what he did—the dark-haired man worse than you initially thought him to be—but a larger part, the part that had been carefully put back together by him, only wanted him to show an endless display of apologies for the rest of your days.

You deserved that.

You deserved to be free, but that was never happening, and as it were, could you even function properly if you were allowed to walk off of this property tomorrow? Your mind didn’t work the way it did before you were brought here. It had been taken apart and scrambled and replaced with one that wasn’t your doing. You feared that you would never be able to function right again, and who would want you?

Who would want you besides Peter?

You were an abused, broken, and genuinely unwell mess…and Peter loved you for it…in his own way. You could see it in his eyes whenever he looked at you that the thought of losing you would send him over the edge, and you knew you felt the same, but you were sure it was for entirely different reasons. At this point in your life…what were you without Peter?

When you weren’t dreaming of your friends and family, and when you weren’t conjuring up nightmares of a familiar blond, you were dreaming about the man who put you into this mess. Sometimes you dreamt about who he actually was and in those dreams there was no doubt about his motives and his actions and you felt the appropriate fear when staring into his eyes.

…but more often than not you dreamt about the man he manipulated you into loving. You dreamed about welcoming him home from work and kissing him and touching him. You dreamed about the days where he simply held you as you cried, conveniently ignoring that he was the reason for your tears. In this house of horrors, Peter was your safe place, and you knew that was purposely done, but again, you felt powerless to do anything about it.

It shouldn’t be that way, but your only other choice was to spend the rest of your days in torment.

“She hasn’t eaten properly in weeks,” the soft words reached your ears, and you knew they weren’t meant for you.

There was a beat of silence, and as you were slowly gripped by consciousness, you took note of the smell of food. It didn’t tempt you, and you almost turned your head away.

“Do you think it’s because of Peter?”

Jane.

You absentmindedly wondered why she was down here and not resting. You hated to think that she’d come down here just to check in on you when she should’ve been looking after herself. You felt her hand on your head.

“She hasn’t seen him in a month…and we know how she—how they can get…”

You squeezed your eyes tight at that, heart aching for the first time in forever at those words. Had it been that long already? Had you really gone a month without seeing him, talking to him, touching him? Was that the cause of this…numbness? You were sure Peter wasn’t the only factor here, but you couldn’t deny that you missed him. You weren’t used to being without him, and this was the longest you’d ever gone without being with him since you first woke up in this house.

…but you knew that this was as much of a punishment for him as it was for you.

What if he didn’t miss you at all? What if you were in hell while each day only brought him more peace not having to be around the crazy one? That thought made your heart ache more, and for a brief moment, you never wanted to see him again.

“Steve only thinks it’s been a handful of times, but she’s not eating. At first, we weren’t too alarmed, especially considering…”

You placed Margaret’s voice now as she trailed off.

“...but then every tray just went basically untouched, and she’s lost a lot of weight. I think we need to tell Steve to contact Dr. Banner.”

You recalled a familiar face with glasses and dark hair.

“She doesn’t use the bathroom every day either. She mostly sleeps,” the redhead added.

“Have you mentioned this to Peter?”

“So he can come barging down here and start a whole other thing with Steve? They’ve only just settled back into being civil with one another. If Peter finds out she’s like this…”

Margaret scoffed, and you detected the unease in her tone.

You had never thought about the aftermath that followed your punishment and how it might have affected things upstairs. You had never thought to, you supposed. You had just assumed that Peter would fall in line with what Steve wanted as usual. After all, no matter how you felt about what you’d done, the household—or more importantly the husbands—did not agree. You’d broken their rules, and rules were rules.

It had never occurred to you that this whole ordeal—and you being at the center of it—might cause friction between Peter and Steve.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of your name, and you were loathed to admit that it took so much of your strength to open your eyes. Jane was as pregnant as ever and glowing, and she gave you a small smile when your gazes met.

“Do you want to try eating something today?

Her tone was light, but you detected a hint of pleading.

Your gaze shifted, and you looked at the tray of food in Margaret’s hands. You eyed it, wanting to eat for their peace of mind if nothing else, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You swallowed, and Jane must have seen the guilt and conflict in your eyes.

“It’s okay,” she assured you. “You don’t have to.”

You didn’t miss Margaret’s look.

“We’ll leave it here, and you eat when you’re ready.”

She touched your face, and with a few lingering looks, they left you.

It wasn’t long before you dozed off again, but it wasn’t a deep sleep, and you drifted in and out of consciousness. It felt like no matter how much you slept, you just couldn’t shake the feeling of being exhausted. Exhausted, not tired. Your whole body seemed to ache, and you dreaded the moment you’d have to get up and shower.

The next time you were even halfway lucid, you felt a hand at your back and a spoon at your lips. On instinct, you turned your head away, but the person’s hand was firm.

“None of that. You need something on your stomach,” the voice was just as firm as the grip, and it was comfortingly familiar.

Your eyes widened a bit at the familiar face, and you unintentionally parted your lips, allowing her to give you a taste of broth. It took you by surprise, and you coughed a bit, but swallowed it nonetheless. Nat gave you another spoonful, and so in shock at her presence, you accepted it.

“Sharon’s supposed to be in my place…but…Steve and Bucky are at work,” she shrugged, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. “...and I had to see you.”

For the first time in a month or so, you felt…something. For a brief moment, your perpetual numbness had lifted, and you both spoke at the same time.

“I’m sorry.”

It was said by two different voices, but it echoed as one.

“You’re sorry…?” Confusion filled you. “Why are you sorry?”

Your voice was small and unsure, and Nat looked so like you were unused to seeing her. She was normally so strong and fierce—a great source of envy for you—but now she looked sad…and regretful.

“You felt more obligated to protect me than yourself…and had I thought for a moment that you’d see me…I never would’ve left.”

Your shoulders fell at that, and you hated that Nat felt…guilty over your predicament. Your own choices had led you here, and that was what you told her after clearing your throat.

“It doesn’t change the fact that I thought the best thing that could happen was I’d get help and we’d all leave this place…and the worst was that I’d get dragged back,” she fed you more broth. “Not once had I considered that someone else would get dragged into my mess.”

You didn’t quite know how to respond, because after all, you didn’t really agree with her. You hadn’t felt obligated to do anything. It seemed like a no brainer to you to not say that you saw her that night. It was never even a question, never even a consideration to tell Peter Nat had escaped.

You swallowed, only taking a tiny sip when she offered you another spoonful. The green-eyed woman frowned at that.

“Nat…”

The words were on the tip of your tongue, but she merely shook her head.

“Bucky was practically ready to flog me for leaving him,” she lightly said despite the severity of the topic. “When they threw me down in here, I was prepared for it. Even with my possible delicate condition.”

Your eyes met hers, and she sent you a crooked smile.

“I knew only one person could talk them out of whatever they prepared to do to me…and I knew there was only one thing you could say that would change their minds…” you bit your lip at that. “Thankfully, I thought wrong, but even if I was pregnant, I’d still understand why you did it.”

She gave a small, bitter laugh.

“I may not have agreed with it nor been the biggest supporter of that decision…but I get it,” she shrugged. “After they found out what you did, I think I was scared for you more than I’d ever been scared for anyone…and I imagine that’s what you’d felt like.”

Your gaze found the sheet on your legs.

“If I had known something that could save you too, I might’ve done the same.”

When she offered you more broth, you sadly shook your head. A look passed over her features at that, and her face fell. She set the spoon back in the bowl with a small sigh before standing.

“I had to check on you,” she told you. “They said you haven’t been eating, and I didn’t realize how bad it was…”

You noticed the way she eyed you, and you suddenly had the urge to find a mirror. She set the bowl down, and she looked unsure about it.

“I’m going to leave this here. Just in case…” she trailed off, a bout of worry crossing her features. “I’ll come check on you again when I can.”

You nodded at her words, but the shock from Nat’s presence and the few sips of broth had taken more energy than you cared to focus on, and you were already sliding back down in bed.

It took her a long time to climb the stairs and shut the door behind her.

It could’ve been days later when you heard the low timber of a voice that wasn’t wholly familiar to you. It scratched some part of your brain, but not enough for you to pinpoint where you’d heard the tone before. Unfamiliar fingers were prodding at your face and neck, and the feel had you frowning in your semi consciousness. 

The man hummed to himself.

He was speaking, but you were in and out of sleep, so you couldn’t tell��nor cared—if he was speaking to you or someone else whose presence you weren’t aware of. A voice spoke back, and both sounded so muffled and far away to you.

You felt those same fingers on other parts of your body, as well as cold metal, and the intense temperature against your warm skin made you jolt a bit. You pushed at the hand, but a voice shushed you, but it didn’t sound close enough to have the intended soothing effect. Words were exchanged again, but you were already falling back asleep.

It was a dreamless sleep, the first in a long time, and it made the passage of time feel like a blink.

A voice so hauntingly and achingly familiar to you reached your ears, and you thought you were dreaming.

“I don’t give a fuck about what Steve would’ve wanted. His wife is healthy and coherent and probably getting ready to give him another Goddamn baby,” the voice hissed, interrupting a smaller more feminine one. “She’s been like this for weeks, and no one said a word to me.”

“Peter-.”

“Dr. Banner should’ve been here weeks ago. I should’ve known about this weeks ago. I should have seen her weeks ago…!”

Sleep was pulling you back in again, and the louder the voice got, the more it started to fade. The wrathful pitch grew higher and higher but also fainter and fainter until it was gone entirely, and sleep welcomed you again.

Your mind was struggling to put pieces together, and in your sleep, you thought to yourself that those words sounded like they came from some demented doppelganger, the tone sounding so much like Peter but not at the same time. You had never heard him so angry, and a voice in your head convinced you that you dreamt it, used to a sweet disposition from your dark captor, the dichotomy of which never failed to throw you into greater mental turmoil.

When your senses came to you again, you felt stronger than you had in probably two months at this point. You weren’t entirely sure, completely confused by the passage of time. The basement smelled different, and even the bed felt different, but as you shifted, you understood why.

The numbness that you had started to find comfort in was gone, and you could feel the bed and pillows and sheets beneath you…and they felt familiar. Too familiar. They felt like home. They felt like the place where you’d spent hours in Peter’s arms and hours sleeping and hours accepting the affections of the man who’d kidnapped you.

You thought you might have conjured the feeling up, but then you inhaled, and Peter’s scent filled your nose, and you thought of the nights he’d slept here alone in your absence. The faintest of touches disturbed the back of your hand, so featherlight that you could almost ignore it, but the slight pressure in your chest wouldn’t let you.

When you opened your eyes, his face was the first thing you saw.

His hair was a little longer, a little curlier and brushing his ears, and his face was as pretty as ever, but the dark circles beneath his eyes betrayed his sleepless nights. Had you the strength to move, you would’ve reached out to touch them.

Peter was knelt beside the bed you shared and his hand was in yours and his brown eyes lit up at the sight of your own. His face shifted so suddenly and seamlessly that you would've sworn he’d been smiling at your sleeping face this entire time instead of with that pinched brow and clenched jaw you’d been initially met with.

“Hey,” he softly and slowly greeted, dragging the word out in a whisper. “...my pretty girl.”

You swallowed, blinking a few times before briefly glancing around to confirm you were where you thought you were. Your gaze caught onto the medical equipment by the bed, blinking at the bag two feet above you with unidentifiable liquid in it. You absentmindedly reached up with your free hand as you traced the direction of the tube.

“Hey, hey,” Peter softly admonished, taking your other hand too. “Don’t touch it.”

You looked down at the feeding tube going into your chest, and you felt your heart skip a beat. Confusion filled you, and you were just about to speak when Peter let one of your hands go to take your chin instead. Still in the process of escaping sleep, you could only blink at him, a million questions running through your mind that you didn’t have the capability to voice.

“You’re really weak and…you haven’t been eating,” you watched his face as he said this, and you took note of the dark shadow that passed over his features, and you thought to yourself that perhaps you hadn’t dreamt that interaction at all. “Dr. Banner gave you that because you need to eat.”

Peter appeared to get choked up, and your eyes widened a tad. Sniffing, he rose a bit to press his lips to yours, fingers brushing over your cheek.

“You need to eat, you need all your strength,” you felt his tears on your face. “...because we’re going to have a baby.”

He pulled away only enough to look into your eyes, his own looking between them as he spoke.

“My pretty girl is going to have a baby,” he whispered more to himself than you. “...and you want her to be healthy and fat, don’t you?”

His thumb brushed over your lips, but it was hard to focus on anything he said after ‘baby’.

“I need you both healthy,” he said, voice cracking, and he kissed you again. 

His arms circled around you, and you felt his wet face fall to rest against your neck and shoulder. He kissed the skin there that peeked through above the large shirt, his whispered happy words reaching your ear.

“My baby’s having a baby.”

[aakaneeee]

Love is presented in many ways throughout Alien Stage: For Mizi and Sua, it's codependent, romantic to a worrying extent. For Ivan and Till, it's one sided, unrequited, and painful.

And for Hyuna and Luka, it's a curse.

Not only a curse, but one that haunts them. Jacob once told Hyuna to "Forgive yourself", which, to her, was misplaced. She could have forgiven herself. It was Luka who she couldn't forgive. But, in the end, she couldn't fulfill the legacy. She couldn't forgive herself for loving Luka. She couldn't forgive Luka for killing who she loved. And so, what did she do? She passed on the legacy.

The words "Forgive yourself" didn't help her. They built who she was, but in the worst possible way. She couldn't take his words, because she didn't consider herself the culprit, but the one she resented.

She told this curse, "Forgive yourself" again. She told them to Luka, sentence that almost sounded mocking on her lips. She couldn't have died before because she had to keep moving forward, but now, the pressure wasn't on her shoulders anymore.

She loves Luka, of course she does. But she cannot possibly forgive him. She knows he doesn't realize the suffering he inflicts. It's ironic, he's so unbearably smart, solving puzzles in a matter of seconds, but he doesn't know how to take in the real world, and the feelings of the ones around him, the most important 'puzzle' of them all. So, she gives him the biggest dilemma of his life. It's harsh, cruel, messed up in every sense. It's the puzzle she knew he could never solve, because she herself, who knew humanity, couldn't. Hyuna knew Luka loved her more than himself. And Hyuna cared for Hyunwoo more than for herself. Luka killed Hyunwoo, and so, Hyuna repaid him with the same coin, an eye for an eye. With an act that is the ultimate sacrifice, and the ultimate revenge.

As I have said, Hyuna knew the love he had for her, beyond the limits of his own body. She must've known how much her act would destroy his world: a fate worse than death. Her kind tone, telling him to take as much time as he needs to solve the newfound question she has proposed in such an ugly way, appears almost taunting.

And the way she holds him in her arms, purposefully close, and looks into his eyes, makes it just so much more painful. And yet, when she speaks her soul, passes everything she was carrying on her shoulders, over to him, her face is hidden away, buried in his shoulder. She's free. She finally had her revenge. She can forgive him, and then herself, even though the price was destroying him, without building him up again. Leaving him like pieces of a puzzle that never got solved. She's been cruelly betrayed, and she, even more cruelly, fed him his own medicine.

Hyuna is haunted by both Hyunwoo and Luka, similar to how Mizi is haunted by Sua. Hyunwoo brings the horror aspect: the bloodied blouse and head, while Luka has the smile that Sua has in the imaginations. The two people she loved most: the one who couldn't forgive her because she didn't get to apologize, and the one she didn't forgive. It's all so incredibly complex: she hates and loves, she resents and adores. Hyuna can't pick anymore. We're shown that she's such an active person, sociable, loving, having a whole group of humans just like her, and yet, we're told that she thinks all of them are selfish, even if they seem altruistic. She doesn't trust them, it seems it's a facade. In this, Luka and Hyuna are similar, but divided by the fact he wants to conceal his emotions, and she wants to make them more visible.

This page, specifically, made me click MiziSua and HyuLuka together. They look scarily alike. The same lovey-dovey expression, versus the distressed one of the lover, even the slight glow that Luka has is similar. I think this is meant to show that they still depend on each other, despite the fact that Hyuna seems to resent him so much.

Hyuna says Luka doesn't know the meaning of love. That the only thing he's ever shown, the only thing he genuinely knows, is suffering, and that his abilities basically stop at inflicting the same. (At least, emotional ones.) This is a parallel to Ivan, in my opinion, who didn't know love either, but he liked the idea of it. Instead, Luka loved with everything he had, even though he had no idea what it truly was. His love is obsessive, and somehow, so impossibly innocent at the same time. Because in a way, he's still a child. When he sees Hyuna, he becomes immature again, his facade of control dissipating into thin air. He mocked Mizi for her inability, but he's even worse.

According to his ear monitor, his heart was beating out of his chest. He could hear his own erratic heartbeat. It's painful, how happy he was, how excited, to be in her arms again. And yet, despite the love, the embrace was just as much of revenge.

Ever since Wiege, we've seen Luka smile so much. Just for him to never truly smile again.

I am a fan of the gentleness that Hyuna treats young Luka with. She seems awfully attached to the image of that innocence she knew. But it's not like Mizi's idea of Sua, the perfect one. It's an image she can't bear seeing again. "I couldn't stand seeing myself on those posters, because I knew exactly the face the you'd have. Yes, I bet you were smiling ear to ear." We've only seen him like this for the first time, but to her, it was so familiar, even years apart, she still knew.

Another thing I have noticed is that Hyunwoo's grave is right infront of a tree, almost separated from the others, just the way Luka was sitting before Hyuna found him. Now, this time, Hyunwoo lost Hyuna, and he's forever forced to be lonely in the garden he'll never grow out of.

Hyuna wanted to give Luka a rubik's cube he wouldn't be able to solve, something difficult. A rubik's cube can represent human nature, who Luka seems to have mastered completely. But Hyuna finally manages to postpone him: the puzzle is herself.

And in the end, after Hyuna's body goes limp, he finally manages to take her in his arms. He promised that there, she'd be safe, but he didn't manage to keep her that way. And suddenly, the words "My Savior" from Ruler of my Heart are awfully true.

[loverindeepspace]

I Remember // Rafayel x Reader

So I'm still screaming about Raf's new myth, it's so good!!! Got lucky and got it this morning on Day 1, and got inspired to write! Concept: You wake up remembering your past. Tags: Spoilers for the new myth!! Hurt/Comfort, established relationship Words: 1012 Part 2 Masterlist

You don’t know what roused you from your sleep. Was it the stabbing pain emanating from deep inside your heart? Was it the crushing pressure of dread that paralysed you? Or was it the deep voice that echoed through the fog settled in your mind? You didn’t know. All you knew was the soft touch of lips against your own, the cold waves lapping around your body, the warm embrace cradling you tenderly, the sobs that bid you farewell from a life once lived- all an echo from a past you had forgotten. 

A dream. Or was it a nightmare?

No. 

That wasn’t right.

It was a memory. 

You remembered the smooth cerulean scales that brushed against your legs underwater, you remembered the melody that once chased away any pain you felt. You remembered the cracks that formed on a gift so precious, the scale around your neck crumbling more by the day, the same way your beloved god’s life seemed to crack and wane right before your eyes. 

You remembered the high waves that threatened your life, threatened the people who once abandoned you. You remembered the hot rush of energy, the rush of fire that split those waves in half. The arms that wrapped around you in that moment. The moment that drained his life energy to save you. 

The Sea God’s Bride. 

That’s the title you held. The title bestowed upon you. A curse that led to the suffering of so many. But also the blessing that made you reunite with your beloved, the god that sacrificed everything to rewrite your fate. To save your life. You wanted to save him too. And you did, in the only way you knew how. You broke his chains, you broke the bond that entwined your souls together, you freed him. You gave him his power back. 

You could still feel the sharp pain that spread from your chest, the warmth of the blood that contrasted sharply with the cold blade that struck your heart. The expression on his face engraved itself in your mind, the panic, the sorrow, the desperation. It made your heart hurt more than any wound. 

It’ll be okay, don’t cry my beloved groom. 

I couldn’t let you die. So live for us both.

These are the thoughts that ran through your head as darkness seeped into your vision, your limbs growing numb and weak. 

The cries from your memory overlapped the ones that finally snapped you from the dream, except the ones in the present came from your own body. Warm fingers wiped away the tears on your cheeks as you came to, the haze in your mind lifting slowly as your eyes met the ever familiar eyes of your lover. Blue and pink, so much like the ocean you now remember. 

“Cutie? You with me?” His voice was filled with concern, his brows drawn together. 

“Raf- Rafayel?” You almost couldn’t recognise your own voice as it broke midway, a strangled sob escaping from your lips. He immediately draws you up into his arms, and you don't hesitate to burrow your face into his shoulder, drawing deep breaths, trying and failing to calm down. Your hands clutched onto his shirt, desperate to be as close to him as possible. 

“Shhh, I’m here. You’re okay.” The usual teasing tone was nowhere to be found, replaced with a seriousness you weren’t used to. But it was comforting either way. He was here. The past you had succeeded, but at what cost? You left him alone. You forgot about him. It was really no wonder he made you promise not to make him wait for you. He had waited so long. Across so many lifetimes. 

But he waited. For you. 

“I’m sorry.” You breathed, your voice muffled by his shoulder.

“Whatever for, cutie? Unless you’re apologising for not letting me have more turns on the claw machine, you don’t have anything to apologise for.” He did his best to lift the mood, to make you feel better. He couldn’t stand seeing you cry like this, to see you so meek. He wants to see your smile, the one that lit a fire in his heart. So he joked around like normal, hoping to break the tension in your body. 

You pull away slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, your lips twitching slightly at his words. Silence filled the air, not uncomfortable, but still tense, as your left hand reached for his cheek, stroking a thumb across the pale skin there, imaging the scales that once adorned his face. Your gaze was heavy, a deep melancholy settled deep within your eyes, but there was something else too. Something akin to devotion, a love so overwhelming it spilled out across your features, into the fresh tears that filled your eyes. 

“My beloved groom, I left you waiting. I’m so sorry.” 

The smile on his face fell, breath hitching and eyes widening at your words. Disbelief was obvious in his features as he searched your face, searched for a confirmation that this was real. That your memories had come back. He seemed to forget how to breathe, his body freezing in place.

“You… You remember?” The arms wrapped around your body seem to tremble, as your lips turned into a small smile, tears still trailing down your face.

“I do. I remember you. I remember our time together. Lemuria. Romirro. Everything.” You couldn’t help but let out a wet chuckle at the expression on his face as you continue to admire him. Your God. Your groom. Your beloved. He’s been through so much, you put him through so much, but he still waited, he still loved you. And you loved him, in every lifetime.

He sucked in a shaky breath before pulling you into his chest, arms tight around you, as he buried his face in your hair. You wrapped your hands around him in return, holding him just as tight. 

“Took you long enough.” His voice was wobbly, but the relief in it was evident, a warmth seeping into his words.

[dduane]

Just so that people know...

Facebook/Meta's just-announced change in its fact-checking and moderation policies (which would, among other things, allow users to refer to LGBTQ+ people as "mentally ill"), and its sudden vanishing of trans- and nonbinary-friendly themes, has made it plain to me that some of the book-series-oriented spaces I've maintained over there for years are no longer safe places for users, especially younger ones, to be.

I have therefore begun deleting them.

The Middle Kingdoms page (being both the smallest and the one now potentially most dangerous to keep) was the first to go: I nuked it about ten minutes ago. (Naturally I checked it first to make sure nothing of any note was going on in there, and also naturally, I took a backup.)

The Young Wizards page will be the next to be deleted, probably tomorrow. The Ebooks Direct page there will also be deleted over the weekend. Neither of them was all that busy, ever: but that's not the point here. Meta is no longer a safe or appropriate place for them to be. (It doesn't hurt that many of FB's employees are furious about this policy change too... but their boss, I firmly believe, doesn't give a shit about that.)

The DD Facebook page may suffer the same fate. My personal "main" account...? I have a lot of older friends over there for whom FB is their lifeline and main digital platform. I'm going to have to think about how best to handle that. It may be that there will be no more public posting from me there: just DM'ing. ...And I'm still working out what makes the most sense to do about the Middle Kingdoms Instagram account, and my own personal one. Neither of them has been heavily trafficked, and I may nuke them too.

(sigh) All this comes as something of a wrench. But at the very least, as regards the part of my creative work that contains LGBTQ+ themes and characters, I refuse to leave any of it there. To do so would risk having its continued presence seen as support for the platform's boss (and, as @petermorwood remarks in passing, "would-be capo"), who's already busy genuflecting to the US government's incoming (mob-)boss's agenda.

So, as the man says,

"If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly..."

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

hii I was wondering if u could write something where daeho and reader are already in a relationship and they find eachother after the first round and maybe they are upset with eachother for going into the games.

anc if it could have a bit of fluff that would be nice!!

tyy🫶🫶🫶

At Least We Have Eachother

KANG DAE-HO X READER

Summary- Dae-ho and you both join the squid games for the benefit of the other. Neither of you know about it, until you find each other after the first game.

Warnings- Squid Games, mentions of blood, murder, and death

A/N- Thank you guys for the overwhelming support with my Daeho fic. I am so motivated right now, it's not even funny. He is such a sweet baby, MY SHAYLAAAA

Word Count- 1,192

Your debt was not something you were proud of. To be honest, it crept up on you. It started with medical bills, then Daeho ran into some Ex-Marines, who dragged him into a bad gamble.

From there it kind of went down hill. Struggling to pay bills, borrowing more money, making the wrong people mad. In other words, the two of you were in an extremely bad position.

When a strange man with a suitcase approached you on your way home, you were hesitant. In any other situation you might have ignored him and walked away. But, you had just had another invoice from a debt collecting company. Not to mention the loan shark that came up and threatened Daeho two days prior. The eviction notice was also putting a hole on your kitchen table.

The idea of following the funny-looking card, winning a bunch of money, clearing your (and Daeho) debts. It was too good to be true, you knew that deep down. At the end of the day, you were at rock bottom. Desperate people do desperate things.

So, while slipping Daeho a simple lie about spending the night with a friend... You took off to the discrete location alone. Where you were picked up by a van. You don't remember much after that.

The regret sunk in deep when you realized what you had gotten yourself into. When you awoke seeing hundreds of people around you, all in the same position, you were noticeably scared. You barely left the bed you woke in. Only to stand with the crowd to listen to the guards and sign the needed contract. It seemed too late to back out now...

The first game was lonely, intimidating, and revealing. The only reason you weren't lying head face in the sand dead, was your fear. It struck you stone-cold still on 'red light'. The ring of your ears pressured you to move forward on 'Green light.' Due to the deadly shots to other players. It pushed you to move so you didn't suffer the same fate.

You were much too nervous to talk to anyone, you saw little point in making friends at first. That was until the realization of any team games.

After the first game was officially over and you had returned to the common room, you'd taken a moment to think. To think how it would be if you were able to walk home now. How it probably wouldn't even matter if you had died, so many people were out for your head anyways. It was all looking dark, but Daeho was your light. He was always so positive, he kept you happy. You owed it to him to keep fighting.

To keep fighting for that adorable, handsome, sweet face. That same face that was currently staring you down....

"Daeho?" You questioned, just in case your mind was playing a trick on you.

"What are you doing here!" He ran over, pulling you further behind the layered beds. His grip was tight on your arm, once the two of you stopped, he seemed to notice. At that he quickly loosened his squeeze.

"W-why are you here! I-I thought you were sleeping over at-" You cut him off, your guilty conscience taking over.

"Daeho, what are you doing here?" You rebutted, frantically pushing your hair back. He knew you were nervous.

"To settle some of our debt, but that doesn't even matter anymore. People are dying, you can't be here!" He stressed over you. He did a few takes over your form, making sure you were not hurt in any way. You thought he was finished until he slowly brought his hand up. He stuck his thumb out and seared a few drops of blood off of your cheek. You hadn't noticed them before...

An argument against him was impossible to think of, but you managed. "Well I can say the same about you! You could get killed also. Where would that leave me!" He threw his head back, pressing both hands over his face. He dragged them down, an annoyed expression on his face.

"Ohhh, this can not be happening.. I-it doesn't matter, because you're here, where you were not supposed to be!" He started to fidget with his fingers, a sign he was distressed.

"Dae...I'm also here because... I got fired yesterday..." You looked down, picking at your nails. His head snapped to look at yours. "What?"

"They were... overstaffed and, apparently a younger employee could do the same amount of work for minimum wage... So, they just got rid of me..." He looked sympathetic, but still mad.

"You should have told me. We would have figured it out. You didn't have to lie."

You thought for a second, "Its not like I wanted to lie! I was trying to help us!"

"How reckless!" He said. It was almost comical!

A laugh pushed its way out, "Oh my gosh, don't act like you aren't here too!" You started to raise your voice, frustrated.

He took a single step back, hands on his hips. "You're supposed to be the smart one! I'm fun, loving, a burst of fricken light!" He said, his words contradicting his tone, not joyfully at all.

"Whatever! What matters now is that we were stuck in a death trap! The money is not even our first problem. We might not even be alive before the day is over! Or worse, you'll be dead and I'll be left to suffer!"

He gave another sigh, stepping forward and embracing you. It was exactly what both of you needed. His arms wrapped impossibly tight around you. You could only reciprocate the squeeze. His head fell on top of yours, he nestled in.

"I don't want to argue, I just want you safe... We will be fine." He said, keeping you in his grasp.

"I know, but I just wanted to help... The man seemed so promising, that we could have a normal life again." You wanted to let your tears flow, but you couldn't risk looking weak. You had to remind yourself that there were still a couple hundred other players in the large room.

He shook his head on top of yours, "I would live in a tent as long as I was with you.... I can manage anywhere, as long as you are by my side..."

You pulled back to look at him. Your arms still wrapping around each other. "I just, I know you're not happy... I wanted to clear everything up, one day own our own house. One that we can never get evicted from." He pushed a stray hair behind your ear.

"Oh Dae, I don't care about that. I just want you." You shoved your head into his chest.

"I love you.."

"I love you too."

"What the hell are we going to do here." You questioned, peaking up from his chest slightly.

"Were going to stick together. We're going to get out of this alive." He pulled back and down to press a firm and reassuring kiss on your lips. Maybe things would be so bad after all.

Oh, how naive you both were...

A/N- Honestly, I like my first Daeho fic better. But that's probably because I am a SUCKER for emotional hurt/comfort. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoyed this one. Pls lmk how I can improve!!!

[twisted-broth]

Scarlet End

Mr Scarletta x Reader

(Anything in bold is in the other world language)

How did you end up here? In those apartments? In this other world? Could it really all have been fate?

No. It was all his fault. Ever since you spilt blood on his property, you were in the palm of his hand. He toyed with your reality like it was all just a game to him. You supposed that likely wasn't far from the truth.

How many days had you been running? Every corner you turned brought you face to face with a new monster, difficult to distinguish between friend or foe. Although you suppose you probably didn't look much better at this point. Blood slipped through the cracks of your raincoat, staining the white dress underneath as you fell to your knees. You were so tired. Even if you could keep running, where would you go? All you could see for miles was an ocean of red. And your hunter didn't suffer the same exhaustion you did.

Shade falls over you. Although now that you think about it, was there ever a light source to begin with? Either way, you don't have to raise your head to know that a red umbrella was covering you. Not to mention the telltale static that always managed to make your teeth throb.

He says something incomprehensible.

No, you know this one. It's the same thing he asks for every time he sees you.

"Give name?"

You finally raise your head to look at him. His red hair covered most of his face, but you could still catch a glimpse of his haunting eyes staring at you, unblinking.

You clumsily utter out what you think is the equivalent of "Why?"

"Me like you. You give name, me ??? you."

What was that word again? It was one Mr Crawling used often. Something like... protect.

"Protect you."

Could he really protect you? Judging by the reactions of everyone else here, you were under the impression that he was the one you needed protection from. The voice on the telephone seemed adamant that you not tell anyone your name. But could you really trust that voice? They hadn't led you astray yet.

They also said you would have to make a choice.

All things considered, this is Mr Scarletta's world. Either you refuse and keep running for the rest of your life, or you join Scarletta in his reign of terror. Your crowbar digs into your shoulder, reminding you of your past. When you stop to think about it, you're not so different from Scarletta. Maybe you're even worse.

"Name... Y/n."

His eerie smile grew more than you thought was possible.

"Y/n." He repeats.

His hand is cold and rubbery, not unlike a corpse, as he takes your own. The fact that he was incorporeal when you swung your crowbar at him a few minutes ago nags at the bag of your mind. Your brow creases in annoyance, but if Scarletta notices he doesn't say anything. It really was true that this world was stacked against you.

Scarletta rises to his full height, pulling you up with him. It takes a great deal of effort to force your aching muscles to stretch once more, and your knees nearly buckle again. Amidst your struggle to right yourself, he hands you his umbrella, much to your confusion. Before you can ask why, he scoops you into his arms bridal style. You supposed this was his way of showing that he cared.

Under the cover of the red umbrella, you feel isolated from the rest of the world. Even if that world was only a wasteland of red for right now. Fear grips your throat as you meet his awful eyes. They were even worse up close. Even now, having gotten what he wanted, his expression seemed the same as always. Being so close, the static was almost deafening as it continued to assault your ears. Perhaps these were all traits that you would grow used to in time.

"Let's go."

[mysumeow]

︵ ☆ Malleus NSFW Alphabet (S-Z) Pt. 3

ᓚᘏᗢ WARNINGS: AFAB body reader. Brief cervix stuff mention. ᓚᘏᗢ A/N: i know cervix stuff irl is not that pleasurable to most, but in smut, i like it :D | ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ . . . TWST MASTERLIST | PART 1 | PART 2

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

You could try outlasting him if you’d like to, although it’s more likely that you’ll tire out before he does.

He’ll last as long as you want it to last; energy’s not a limitation. If you’re in the mood for more than one round, he’s up for it.

That’s under normal circumstances. When he enters his rut, however, it’s another story. Just once isn’t enough. If you’re giving him a hand (or more than that), be prepared for a long night. For several days.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

In terms of technology, Malleus is not what you would think of as careful, considering how often he breaks his phone and Tamagotchi. If he owned a toy, it would meet the same fate as those.

Besides, he doesn’t deem toys necessary. His hand gets the job done.

This reasoning goes in hand regarding the use of a toy on you: unnecessary. Why would he use that when his fingers, his mouth, and his dick can provide you with pleasure. His cock is big enough to give you the stretch you crave, the warmth you seek that a measly toy won’t provide.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Most of the time, he’s pleasing. Giving you what you need.

When he’s not, he’s cruel. You aren’t sure whether he uses that excuse of wanting to wallow in you to prolong your suffering, or he means it. When you need him to go faster, to ravage you… Instead, his pace is unhurried, gripping your hips with decided strength to keep you in place, not letting you buck your hips to reach that orgasm that’s just there but not quite…

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

For someone that’s not experienced, he controls his volume well. Even when he speaks, his voice is collected. During sex, he’s not loud, but each groan is like a reward. They’re so pleasant to listen to. His words might stutter a bit when he’s exerting himself, but he keeps it low.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sometimes he gets an urge to bind your hands. For you to grant your pleasure to his mercy. To see how far he can push before you start begging him to let you orgasm. Or, on the contrary, if you're bratty, he wants to see for how long you can keep it up.

If he can be a menace when in bed under normal conditions...if you willingly let him tie your hands to the bed post, be prepared for a long night.

X = X-ray

Even if you’re dripping wet, it can be a bit of a challenge to take it all. It stretches you in a way unlike anything else you’ve tried before, and you could soon find yourself unsatisfied if you try to find that same feeling with a toy or your hand. Even by fae standards, he’s above average in size. Once you get used to his length, you’ll feel the tip stimulate your cervix.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Since his feelings for you grew to the point of no return, he finds himself thinking about you a lot more often. Those thoughts arise with more mild intentions, such as taking a stroll across campus with you to take in the true majesty of gargoyles, see how you take care of his pet Tamagotchi…the ideas spiral into something less idle and more salacious. He itches to have you underneath him again, to clutch your legs open while he seizes everything you have to offer, to worship you with kisses—suddenly, there’s a strain under his pants.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Malleus catches his breath faster than you do, and if he notices you’re drowsy, he’ll hold you and wait for you to fall asleep first. He’s still got energy left, so he stays awake a little longer than you do. He can’t fight back against somnolence when you look that placid in dreams, and after a moment, he falls asleep too.

[axolotl4days]

Yandere! Royal family × Neglected Reader

The Reborn Royal Part 1

Summary: This is one of those storys where y/n is born to royal family but the family treats them horribly and they become reborn and try to change their fate. Except, this y/n has been through the loop many. Many times, always meeting their doom, until one loop it suddenly changes

Tw: violence, abuse, yandere behavior(all platonic), descriptions of death, mentions of suicide and self harm.

Another day of torment has gone bye, as usual.

This time y/n had "embaressed" the family at a royal ball ruining their older siblings proposals. And being punished heavily for it.

Beaten and bruised y/n retreated to the library, one of the only places you know is safe from the torment on account of how large it is. Always finding books that have been hidden away covered in dust for who knows how long.

The library was always so quiet, you always liked that about it, you weren't yelled at here, weren't beaten here due to the importance of the library.

So you were free to explore and read to your hearts content, thats when you found it.

A book unlike anything you've ever seen before, a book with no cover, and seemingly having empty pages until you reach the middle of the book and see it written.

"Ask for it and it shall be yours. But be careful what you wish for"

You wonder what this means, you've seen magic before, even learned it in some previous lives, but you've never known magic, let alone any books that could grant wishes. Still, after so many lifetimes of pain and suffering, you think about what to wish for that could save you from this.

"I... I wish for my life to change, to have a loving, caring family, to go throughout my days not needing to fear pain just for existing" y/n starts to sob, wishful thinking they think to themselves, that is until the text on the book starts to move around and change.

"Your wish has been granted. The next time you wake up your life will be changed forever" the text then fades from the book as if it was never there in the first place. Y/n puts the book back where they found it and filled with hope that they hadn't had in a long time, they head off to bed hoping that the book worked and that finally things will change for the better.

....

.......

It does not.

Nothing seems to have changed. Everything is the same as it was. It's been a few weeks since you've made your wish, and unfortunately the torment hasn't let up, not even a little bit. Your Mother and Father, the Queen and King respectively continue to ignore your existence completely, ashamed to have birthed a useless child like you. Throughout your lives no matter what you did they always saw you the same, it shouldn't still hurt after so long but it does.

Your siblings, have changed, but only for the worst, since your last embaressment on them your older brothers have been pushing you around more and more, your older sister, while she doesn't harm you physically whenever she's near you she makes it her job to remind you about how much of a failure you are. How you always ruin everything.

You never should have gotten your hopes up. You don't know why you even try anymore. What's the point of living through these lives if the outcome is all the same, waiting for the day you'll die in some horrible way, usually killed, but there has been the occasional accident.

Something snaps. You can't live like this anymore, maybe... maybe if instead of being killed... maybe if you kill yourself it'll all stop...

And that's what you do.

While the rest of your "family" is hosting another ball to repair the damage you've done. You make your move, heading to one of the palace balconys and ending it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Royal Family have just announced they are having another child, they should be rejoicing but ever since the Queen discovered she was pregnant they whole family seems to have fallen under a curse of some kind.

Visions of the future, of pain, of... a person? They've never seen this person yet they look so much like them. And they see themselves too but.. somethings wrong with them. The visions are horrible, seeing each of them hurting this unknown person.

At first the Queen thought she was just having pregnancy nightmares, but then she overhears her boys fighting about something they've seen.

The Royal family gathers to discuss and discovers that they've all been getting this visions, visions of different lives, of this persons different lives. They've discovered that their visions line up, but still have many differences.

Preists, Mages, Wizards, they've called everyone they could from all over the kingdom that could possibly explain what's happening to them. To make it stop.

But none of them could figure it out.

This continues for months and they only seem to get worse. At first it was merely people who looked like them being rude, or obnoxious, or bullys, but has time went on the people in these visions got meaner. Got violent. And then the deaths started to show.

They can only watch in horror as this person dies time and time again. They refuse to believe that the people in these visions could be them. Why would they ever hurt this "y/n" this way. They don't understand it. The children wake up screaming so often that for the last month of the Queens pregnancy the family refuses to leave each other's side.

And then it happens. The day that changes everything. The day the Queen gives birth, they all have one final vision, for once, it's the same vision as well. They see this "y/n" holding a book, making their wish, and then... jumping

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything is dark, and for a moment, you think this may really be the end for once... so many emotions all at once but there's no time to think before there's a bright light and you open up your eyes.

And you see them. It didn't work. You start to cry, and you cry hard, you immediately expect to be handed over to a maid as always, but instead the queen Your mother, she keeps you in her arms and tries her best to comfort you. Looking at you for the first time and she cries.

This is strange. She's never reacted like this, she's never held you like this she's-

"It's her."

A states, you can't see him but you recognize your father's voice. The voice of a king is hard to forget.

"There she is. Y/n."

You flinch at your name being said, you don't think anything of it, but they notice. They never wanna see you flinch again. Your only a baby. Your THEIR baby.

They have you now. So small, so delicate, so fragile, they won't let anyone hurt you. They've seen the visions, they've seen your deaths, and while you don't know it. They've vowed to never let you go through any of that ever again.

No matter what. You will get what you wished for. They'll make sure of it.