#learning to control it and his spell casting for so long

[yuurei20]

Unique Magic / Signature Spell Compilation: Azul Ashengrotto

Azul’s unique magic, It’s a Deal (hidden meaning: The Golden Contract) is a “taboo” magic that “sucks every power out of someone if it’s not channeled through a contract.”

Azul does not need the scrolls in order to cast his unique magic: he needs them to limit it, as it is too strong for him to wield on his own.

In Book 3 Leona explains that Azul’s unique magic “enables the caster to take one power from a target if that target signs the scroll,” but he later learns that he was wrong and that the scrolls are merely the filter than enable Azul to control himself.

Leona further explains, “in the event of a contract breach, the breacher is compelled to obey Azul’s every command to a T,” and this seems accurate, with Azul turning 225 NRC students who fail to fulfill their contracts into servants in Book 3.

When Azul takes a special talent and/or magical power for collateral, “it’s sealed inside the contract and made available for Azul to use as it suits him.” Jack accuses Azul of cheating by using powers swiped from others, but Ruggie assures him that he isn’t: “As far as signature spells go, his is crazy high-level. Guy’s gotta have some chops to pull something like that off.”

We see examples of what might be abilities that Azul has acquired from other people via his contracts, such as an impressive singing voice, the ability to speak with and understand animals and advanced potion-brewing skills.

Leona says that the contracts last as long as the special scrolls he uses in order to limit his powers exist, and Azul himself emphasizes multiple times that they are invulnerable.

When students attempt to so much as touch a contract they are electrocuted, with Azul saying, “they’re rigged to jolt anyone who touched them aside from myself.”

Leona says, “all magic’s got a loophole,” “there is no such thing as a spell that’s completely flawless” and that the idea that Azul’s contracts are unbreakable is preposterous, and he is proven correct: he is able to destroy Azul’s entire collection of contracts with his own unique magic, explaining, “it looked like they were impervious to damage only under specific conditions. Namely, either being in the VIP room, or being in your hands…the contract scrolls themselves are no stronger than any other sheet of paper.”

While Azul does not take the destruction of his contracts in Book 3 very well (it drives him to overblot), there are other examples in the game where he destroys contracts and does not seem to suffer any side effects.

Unique Magic Design: We technically see the process of Azul crafting his unique magic through sheer effort via a flashback: unlike Riddle, who seems to have worked for his UM to please his mother, and Leona and Idia, who were born with their magics, Azul seems to have been motivated by a desire to enact revenge on those who bullied him as a child.

But while Azul seems to have designed the spell himself it’s possible that he didn’t know he was creating what would become his own unique magic at the time. While unconfirmed, he may have wanted a spell–any spell–to take talent from others, and it becoming his unique magic was possibly an unintentional bonus.

Limitations: During Glorious Masquerade Jamil teases Azul with, “I doubt a certain someone could get plants to sign a contract for his signature spell." As Azul does not need the contracts in order to cast the spell, just to control it, it is possibly still unclear if he can or cannot cast his unique magic on things that cannot give their consent (maybe not without overblotting?).

In-Game Examples: Jade and Floyd describe examples of Azul’s unique magic from before they enrolled at NRC, with one mermaid losing weight in exchange for giving up their singing voice and another mermaid getting beautiful hair but losing their tailfin.

Other examples from the game include Azul contracting with the prefect in Book 3 to try and get them to acquire a photo from an elementary school trip on display at a museum in exchange for freeing his 225 student servants (including Ace, Deuce and Grim), taking Ramshackle Dorm as collateral.

He also contracts with Floyd, taking Floyd’s unique magic as collateral while granting him a deeper voice. Azul also contracts with Deuce, taking his unique magic and using it to strike Rollo in exchange.

There is a conversation in a vignette where he discusses providing Vil with moisturizer in exchange for poisonous plants from Vil, and while Vil does sign a contract there is no talk of collateral, so this may have been a normal exchange of favors between two Housewardens rather than a unique-magic-enforced arrangement?

[recitedemise]

𝗚𝗮𝗹𝗲, 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗮𝗯𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗰𝗲, 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗻𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗪𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝗳𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗴𝗲. After ridding himself of the orb at last, in fact, the wizard becomes a force that's once more unstoppable. He can cast spells without a word, capable of summoning infernos with a wave, and the ease in which he harnesses storms is frightening, but only as frightening as it is an art. Of course, Gale, however, had proved long ago his more prodigious talent. Still, to see him in action beats just listening to this talk. Gale is powerful, relearning all that he'd lost with alarming speed, and that's all a testament to his blinding brilliance--and, of course, his ingrained ambition. With the orb, the wizard had to limit all manner of casting. He had to sate his hunger, was forced to draw back as to not tempt fate, and with the orb in place snuffing his most powerful spells, was something of a tempest in a thick glass cage. However, with the orb finally gone, those limits have at last been lifted. He had became a level 12 wizard with a hell of a handicap, and with that handicap absent beyond its lingering scar, it's like all his previous mastery finally returned--and with force, mind you, like a strike of lightning. In a way, one could compare him to a runner stripped of their weights. He'd learned unparalleled control with an arcane bomb strapped, but now no longer fearing his imminent explosion, is free, as goes the metaphor, to cast a god damned marathon. And Gale is learned. Rather, he's disgustingly learned. He knows all schools of magic, is qualified to teach every field in Blackstaff, and he doesn't serve his city or own his own floating realm, but he'll once again become archwizard in those ways that matter--in his ability to cast and his hellish ferocity. Maybe he won't become as great as he had been with Mystra, but as a former chosen, it's a helluvan accomplishment. In time, Gale Dekarios becomes Gale, professor at Blackstaff, but as a testament to his ability, the city again warms to the idea of Gale of Waterdeep--because she's really only one Gale one could possibly need.

Of course, he doesn't advocate for the title... But it still delights him.

[mossy-rock-in-a-field]

Several weeks ago, my retirement-age mother requested that I play Baldur’s Gate 3 for her because she has trouble with controllers/keyboards and wanted “to see what all the fuss is about with that cute wizard boy.” For context, my mother and I have done this sort of thing in the past with certain RPGs (dragon age, mass effect, etc.), but it’s been a few years since she’s personally requested a game like this. Basically, I control her Tav but let her make all the choices so she can determine how the story plays out without worrying about mechanics. She treats it like a choose-your-own-adventure book.

Anyway, here is a list of some of the things my mother has said and/or chosen to do throughout the course of BG3 in no particular order:

She is (obviously) romancing Gale. She is quite smitten with him and his passion for books and learning; she also thinks he’s polite and qualifies as “relationship material.” She also REALLY likes the things he’s said about his cat so far (my mom is a cat lady), so I know she’s gonna flip shit when we meet Tara in Act III.

She’s playing a normal druid Tav with a generally good alignment. Her favorite spell is Spike Growth because she thinks it’s hilarious whenever enemies walk into the AOE and die. I usually end up having to cast it at least once per battle per her request. Sometimes twice.

Contrary to her alignment, my mother tasks me with robbing every single chest, crate, barrel, and burlap sack we come across; this also includes people and their pockets. The party is always at max carrying capacity. ALWAYS. She doesn’t like selling things because “what if I need them.” The camp stash is in literal shambles. There is no hope of organizing it. She’s got like fifty seven sets of rags and a billion pieces of random silverware.

She MUST talk to every animal and corpse in the game. I think five hours of her total playtime so far (47ish) has been spent speaking to animals as many times as humanly possible. Like, I was thorough in my own playthroughs, but this is on a whole other level.

She did NOT get Volo’s lobotomy, but she did let Auntie Ethel take her eye in hopes of a cure for the tadpole. I did not understand the logic then. I still do not understand it now.

She is far more interested in fashion than equipment stats. Do you have any idea how much gold I’ve had to spend on dyes just to make things match? SO much. Same vibe as that “please someone help me balance my finances my family is starving” tweet but instead of candles it’s thirty thousand fucking bottles of black and furnace red dye.

We broke the prisoners out of Moonrise, but they got on the boat too early and bugged the fight by leaving Astarion and Karlach behind. Wulbren Bongle somehow got stuck in combat mode even after engaging the cutscene on the docks below Last Light; he he kept trying to run ALL THE WAY BACK TO MOONRISE nine fucking meters at a time while I frantically tried to finish the fight with the Warden, otherwise Wulbren would have run straight into the shadow curse. (I would’ve let him go; fuck Wulbren Bongle, all my homies hate Wulbren Bongle. But my mom didn’t know that, and she wanted to keep him safe. So.)

She had me reload a save like eighteen times to save the giant eagles on top of Rosymorn Monastery. Wouldn’t even let me do non-lethal damage just to get past things. I think getting that warhammer for the dawnmaster puzzle took us like an hour and a half alone. (Yes, I know you can use any warhammer, but SHE didn’t.)

She’s started keeping an irl notebook to keep track of her quests between play sessions. She writes down ideas and strategies when she thinks of them during the week, then brings them to her next game session at my house. I think she wrote about three pages on possible approaches to the goblin fortress alone.

She insists that I pet Scratch and the owlbear cub before every single long rest, no exceptions. Sometimes I have to do it multiple times until she is absolutely sure that the animals know exactly how much she loves and cherishes them. She has also commissioned a crocheted owlbear plush from a friend of hers and is very excited.

I’m sure there’s a bunch of stuff I’m forgetting, but those are some fun things I thought of. She’s enjoying the game and is telling all of her retired friends to get it and play it for themselves. She asked me “what is Discord” yesterday and I think my life flashed before my eyes.

anyway shout out to my mom for being neat

Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5

[scriptumsempra]

Second Best

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC Word Count: ~1.4k Tags: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC, No use of Y/N, she beat him ONCE and he never recovered, academic rivalry as love language, Teen romance, just kiss already, Ominis is sassy (as always)

Sebastian Sallow had always been first: Top of his class, quickest on his feet, sharpest with a wand.

Maybe it was the ambition—Slytherin-bred and bone-deep. The kind that sharpened itself on every challenge, not out of cruelty, but because winning meant control—and control meant safety.

Maybe it was the pressure—the kind that comes with affection. Never demanded, never forced; just a quiet inheritance from two scholarly minds. Or maybe it was simply who he was: clever, competitive, constantly reaching. Sebastian never asked for rivalry, but it found him anyway. For every title earned, there were whispers behind his back—quieter in tone, louder in envy. For more admiration he drew, the sharper the scrutiny. Ravenclaws, in particular, seemed to bristle at him: too fast, too certain, too often right. His reputation preceded him into every room, and none more than the duelling space, where defeat at his hands stung sharpest. He was the measure to beat. The standard to unseat.

—Until the new fifth-year came. Uninvited, unexpected, and entirely out of place.

No one transfers into Hogwarts in their fifth year—no one should, but there she was. Defence Against the Dark Arts: her first day, her first class. The girl across from him didn’t look like much—robes slightly uneven, expression unreadable.

“Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome.” Wands are raised. Stares exchanged. Two flicks, one flash. Spells cast and hexes collided. The next thing he knew, the stone was cold beneath his back, and the silence rang louder than the impact. He’d been beaten—cleanly, efficiently—by a new student, freshly exposed to the world of magic. With a borrowed wand, no less. He stayed there a moment too long. Not from pain, not even pride—but something colder, stranger. She hadn’t flinched. Hadn’t blinked. Just stood her ground, wand steady. There was no gloat in her stance, no glory in her win—only calm, blanketed with quiet clarity. It unnerved him, the way she held silence like a weapon. Not cruel, not smug—just sure. And in that certainty, something inside him shifted. He, who had always been quickest to cast, sharpest to strike, first to rise—now second.

Second to a girl with borrowed magic and an unreadable gaze. Second, and watching her like she was a riddle he hadn’t studied for.

In Hogwarts, nothing stayed secret—not bruises, not losses, and especially not pride. And words? They spread like fiendfyre.

“Sebastian Sallow. Second best duellist at Hogwarts.”

Sebastian Sallow. Defeated in a duel.

By a girl. He wasn’t necessarily irritated—no, Sebastian wasn’t the type to let pride get the better of him, no matter how bruised. Not even when the corridors echoed with murmurs, or when Leander carved second best into every pause. He didn’t bother. (But he had a wand. And Prewett had a face.)

Growing up with a twin sister had taught him the meaning of equality—sometimes painfully. It hadn’t come naturally; not when he was young, not when cleverness felt like truth, and fairness was harder to grasp. But a few years of Anne’s sharp tongue—and sharper jinxes—had corrected that. Fair was fair (not that she’d let him forget). Still, he was his father’s son—or so his uncle insisted, especially when his ambition crept too close to arrogance. But it wasn’t just ambition he inherited. It was what came after: the pause, the reckoning, the reach for better.

His pride didn’t bruise—it recalibrated. If he’d lost, then he’d learn. If she was better, he’d find out why.

He started watching her—not obviously, not all at once, but in pieces. When she slipped into class, always a touch early, always alone. When she moved through the castle like she already knew the stones, despite being new to every one of them. He noted the way her gaze lingered on certain spells, the way she gripped her wand like it was both unfamiliar and utterly hers.

But for all his watching, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. There was no obvious trick, no flashy technique, nothing he could steal and make his own. She wasn’t faster, wasn’t louder—just precise, unnervingly so.

… He tried not to talk about it. Really, he did. But one afternoon in the Undercroft, wand in hand and frustration thick in his breath, the topic slipped out anyway.

“I mean—she’s barely had a wand for what, a week? That’s not normal.”

Ominis didn’t even look up from the book he was thumbing through. “Neither is obsessing over her like this.”

“I’m not obsessing,” Sebastian said too quickly. “I’m just saying. It doesn’t make sense.”

Ominis hummed, unimpressed. “Maybe it doesn’t have to. Some people are just—” he waved a hand vaguely, “—fortunate.”

“Fortunate.” Sebastian repeated—half scoffing, half-mocking. “Right. She accidentally walks into Hogwarts and accidentally knocks me flat on the first day with borrowed wand, and we’re calling that fortunate?”

“Yes, Sebastian,” Ominis drawled, finally looking up. “Sometimes the world accidentally produces prodigies. Try not to take it personally.” Sebastian scoffed. He didn’t believe in prodigies—not really. He believed in effort. In midnight practices that left both your eyebrows singed. In pages stained with candlewax and margins filled with counter-hexes. That’s what earned him his titles: brightest in his year, best duellist in Hogwarts. ...Fine. Second best duellist in Hogwarts. (A technicality. Soon to be rectified).

Sebastian kept looking for an answer—for how she managed it. How a girl with no prior training, no formal spellwork, and a borrowed wand had made him second best. The answer came eventually. There were murmurs, footnotes, glances exchanged behind closed doors. Ancient magic, they said—but never in front of her.

But he didn’t think she was cheating. No. If anything, he was intrigued. Moved, even—because ancient magic wasn’t just rare, it was powerful. Wild. And in the hands of the right person… Maybe even restorative. Maybe—just maybe—it could cure Anne. But somewhere along the way, the logic faltered. Something shifted—quietly, irreversibly—between the theories and hypotheses. Somewhere between their midnight misadventures through the trees of the Forbidden Forest and the glances they shared across cramped classroom benches, he began to see more than potential in her. More than power. Ominis had called her fortunate. 

Sebastian couldn’t agree—didn’t. Not now. Not when he saw her more clearly. Thrown headlong into a world she never asked for, with spells she’d never studied and a responsibility no one her age should’ve been made to carry. There was nothing fortunate about it. She hadn’t inherited her magic. She endured it. She wasn’t just a solution waiting to be studied. She was a person. A girl. One who carried the weight of a world she didn’t ask for—and held it like it might shatter if she let go.

And somehow, she never did. Now that he’d studied her—really studied her—he knew her routines like his own: When she slipped into the Great Hall (late, but not too late). How she cut her food (precise, always left-handed). Which hallways she favoured. Which professors she avoided. Which books she’d reach for.

Like now—fingers tracing the spine of a leather-bound tome in the Restricted Section. Half-decayed, stitched with protective glyphs, inked with theories too dense for even most seventh-years. (Of course she’d choose that one). He understood how she thought— her logic, her precision, her silences.

Sebastian told himself it was admiration. Respect, even. But admiration is clean. Detached. Safe. And this—this thing in his chest—was none of those. Curiosity turned to fascination. Fascination turned to something else. He couldn’t stop watching her. The way her wand moved—like she was afraid of cutting too deep. The way she said names—like every one of them cost something. The way she stood—always with one foot still outside the room.

He noticed too much. Ominis noticed that. They were in the Undercroft, candles guttering low. Ominis sat with his hands folded over a closed book, gaze tilted away—but that meant nothing. The silence had gone long, too long. “You’ve been staring at the same spot for ten minutes,” Ominis said at last. “If you’re trying to burn a hole through the floor, you’ll need a different spell.” Sebastian didn’t answer. Ominis didn’t need him to. “Careful, Sebastian. It’s a long way down from second place.” Sebastian shot him a look—sharp, warning. Ominis just shrugged, all too pleased. “Let me know when you start writing poetry—so I can start drafting your dignity’s eulogy.”

... Sebastian thought he had her figured out. Maybe that was the problem. The more he learned, the less he understood himself. It wasn’t about winning anymore—it was about staying close. And in the quiet between wanting and waiting—he realized: He doesn’t mind being second best —As long as she sees him, even from second place.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

That's a Wrap!

Kinktober 2024 Day 2: Bondage

Mummified Lich Male Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: noncon, bondage, undead yandere, necromancy, graverobbing, mild blood drinking, biting, magic, soul binding, cock warming, overstimulation, controlling yandere, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 1k

(Honestly not my best work. A bit rushed. Smut isn't super detailed. But I hope you guys like it anyway.)

You didn't really think of yourself as a grave robber. Of course not! You were an explorer, a treasure hunter, a daring person who went on adventures into dangerous dungeons! Now, did that sometimes involve liberating certain valuables from the entombed? Sure.

In fact, that's just what you were doing. You had found a map in your travels that had led you to an ancient dungeon in which a long dead king was rumored to be entombed… along with all of his many treasures…

The entrance was concealed deep within a hidden cave. The opening had collapsed, but you had the right equipment for the job.

Though you lacked any ability to naturally cast spells, you did have several one-time use earth scrolls that would allow you to use their stored magic to clear the cave and make sure it was fully stable. Of course, you also had a scroll of teleportation so you could easily leave with the loot and a scroll of healing in case of injury.

You continued until you found a magically sealed door, though it seemed age had weakened it just enough for it to be broken by your enchanted pickaxe. You proceeded through the antechamber and into the main room. 

Strange. Absolutely no treasures filled the room, no artifacts mounted on the walls, no jars, urns, statues, or gold. It was just a plain, pristine room with some glyphs and runes.

But in the center, there were stairs leading to a stone sarcophagus. This was it, the resting place of King Relik. For something containing royalty, it was disappointingly plain. Maybe he was buried during a time of extreme poverty. You knew you were the first "liberator of treasures" though; you had been the one to break the sealed door. 

Well… a bit macabre, but you could still sell the mummy itself if nothing else. It alone would be a mighty fine pay day. Though you held out hope that some valuables remained in the sarcophagus.

You carefully shipped away at it with your pick. At about the halfway mark, it burst open on its own. 

King Relik rose from his 2300 year old prison with a yawn. He was mostly covered in strips of cloth. Upon spotting you, he willed his wrappings to extend and curl around you. 

The wrappings fell from his body, revealing him to have pale grey-white skin, ling black hair, dark rings around his eyes, and a muscular body.

The gauze evidently held spells to incapacitate whoever they bound but were no longer strong enough to hold such a powerful mage-king like Relik. 

You were only left uncovered from the neck up. The now naked former monarch bit your neck and drew blood, sucking only a few drinks from you. 

As he drank from you, he learned your language and your most recent actions and motives.

"Ha! A grave robber. I like you!"

You had no idea that he had been sealed there for trying to conquer the world as an undead lich. They couldn't kill him no matter how hard they tried, so they used the strongest magic possible to seal him away.

And you had broken the last bits of that waning magic. 

He kissed your neck where he had bitten you and cradled you carefully. He summoned up some clothes for himself. It was all he could do with his powers as weakened as they were.

Relik rummaged through your pack and found what he was looking for. The teleportation scroll linked to your nice private home.

How quaint. He never had to resort to a spell scroll before. 

Once at your place, he took the bindings off, laughed as you struggled, removed your clothing, and then re-wrapped your arms and legs.

"I don't really need these enchanted bindings to restrain you, but you look rather cute all tied up like this."

All you could do was make a distressed expression. He ruffled your hair to comfort you.

"Don't worry. It wouldn't be very kingly of me to just dispose of someone who freed me… especially when they have such a delicious expression of fear."

The lich bit his finger so that a drop of blood flowed from it, he put it in your mouth so that you would know who he was and what he intended. His blood power would work both ways, should he will it. 

Suddenly, his intent flooded into your mind. You now knew that from the moment he had tasted your blood, he intended to reward you for freeing him. He liked your personality and slightly questionable morals for wealth.

Your reward would be an immortal lifetime of getting dicked down by him. 

That night alone, he used a spell to make sure you were lubed and ready, then tied you up, and had you in nearly every possible position. His favorite was simply bouncing you on his dick with your hands, bound behind your back. 

Though the magic fabric wasn't on your mouth, its enchantment kept from making all but the softest moans and gasps. Good thing too, thought Relik. Otherwise, you may have damaged your voice.

Only when you literally passed out against his chest from the exhaustion and overstimulation from hours of sex did he finally remove the bandages. Instead, he held you close in his arms and used you to warm his cock as he fell asleep too.

Over the next few days, he would get enough of his strength back to make you magically addicted and dependent on him. This was to ensure you could never leave him.

He also used a spell to make it so you couldn't speak of him or otherwise communicate his existence to other people.

After a few months, he had enough power to tie your very soul to his for all eternity, causing you to become a lich as well. He sealed this soul pact with a magical collar he had you wear.

In every possible way, sexually, spiritually, and physically, Relik owned you. He may have been a mummy when you met him, but you were the one who was all wrapped up and bound. 

[zvezdacito]

Where Malleus' Character may be headed in Book 8: His place among the housewardens and road to true leadership?

Disclaimer(?): Not the most well-structured text since this was mostly written when I was half-asleep + it's kind of hard to tell what plot Book 8 will have from where Book 7 left off. But I think this was still worth putting out here because I would like to see this idea/something like it happening. ⚠️‼️Also this will obviously contain Book 7 finale spoilers

Since great power and adjacent attributes defined Malleus for so long, even if he's happy it won't stop him from being able to outwardly express emotion anymore, his Book 8 arc will likely be adjusting (he's already somewhat started here by asking assistance to cast spells now) and figuring out who he is as a person. Specifically, Malleus will figure out how to be a leader in ways not relying on these previous advantages (faulty ruling since it just him taking control for everyone)

Malleus has so far been outcasted from the other housewardens + we haven't seen much of him doing housewarden duties in the overall game yet so good time to show it now. So I feel like Book 8 will see his dynamic in the group somehow going from clueless nuisance to the leader of the seven, in time for the Book 7 battle.

Basically a callback to the impression that the twst website art gives off (shown above). Perhaps his center positioning has a deeper meaning than just being the poster boy/final overblotter (excluding what is likely overblot Grim)

Malleus's Dorm Uniform vignette built-up to Book 7 (the social exclusion, uncontrollable strength and magic, Lilia being the only one giving him chances, the 1000-year-understanding thing) and the other housewardens perceiving him as the worst at that responsibility/not like them is the only one not yet explored and "resolved" by the finale. Book 7 ended with most of them still having their doubts about letting Malleus back in, so I think that's perfect set-up for Malleus to be included in them as specifically a leader figure in Book 8. Leona makes a point about how Malleus needs to take initiative in housewarden meetings this time, so what better way than for earning his place as a leader in the group (and not just one who imposes his will on others, but listens and learns)

I think it would be a really compelling character development since it's a great leap from where he's currently at. Maybe he'll go about it by becoming the most transparent one in communication/not being afraid to show the many ways he does lack (since the others usually want to prove their strength instead) and how needs their help supplementing those weaknesses, and encouraging them to criticize him as much as necessary. It would be kinda funny to see them take advantage of his willingness to redeem himself at any cost by being overly nitpicky as like a power trip, but over time I think this would also help them understand where he is coming from too and being more genuinely kind (in the NRC way). Basically him taking the initiative to be open would form a trust that's good for team cohesion, building off what Vil and Idia already started in Book 6 and 7.

Vil became like the leader of the group while they battled at S.T.Y.X, while Idia became like the leader of the NRC dream-hopping group against OB!Malleus. So continuing this pattern, Malleus will gradually earn his fellow housewardens' respect and become their leader against like OB!Grim or whoever. Maybe he'll even rally the public at one point (idk what for since we have no clue what Book 8 lore is yet) and this will connect not only to his own growth but Book 7's ideals of making faefolk and mankind more connected

(Fan translation by Valkyrii on youtube)

Leadership traits I think Malleus has so far:

Takes accountability when he realizes his mistake, is impartial when dealing with disputes

Can be pretty forgiving (like with Rollo)

Gives his greatest effort as the host, as seen with Spectral Soiree and this final ball

Going back to how Book 7 ended, we see him regard all different sorts of people invited to Silver's debutante ball individually but equally. This closes Book 7's theme about different people being able to coexist and truly love each other, but he delivered the greeting as if they were all his people in a way. I think this may be setting up to true leader/king related character development in Book 8, honing these qualities further now that he can't default to power without thinking.

Earning the respect to become such a king instead of it simply being "blessed" to him without guidance or help already comes with him learning to process his feelings rather than just avoiding them and gives him opportunities to actually socialize so he gets better at considering the circumstances of others before he takes action. So when/if something will likely happen to give his magic back to him earlier than 200 years, that's already resolved the problems of him not being able to control his magic power when emotional + he's become the type of person/king who doesn't rely on it or is defined by it at the expense of his personhood anymore.

^ I don't think they will remove his powers for the rest of his main story time because they're still a part of him, since for a story about how differences can't stop you from belonging, it feels kinda wrong that his story will actually conclude with making him even physically more similar to the rest to get along. If you think about it, it's not really the powers themselves that were inherently isolating him, but rather that adults only saw him for authority rather than as a child, so never expected that he needed extra help mastering them first.

His horn breaking is basically just the starting point for him to learn this, a chance to pause he never got before. But I think it will be kinda dumb to nerf him for the rest of his screentime without letting his growth explore this through some inner-child healing first.

That's all... I'm not sure how much of the school year is left for all this since the third years were already talking about their internships. But since Crowley says Lilia and Malleus will be returning to the school the vibe would kinda feel redundant if they came back just to leave for internships again. And I just really think there's lots of potential on exploring that one last part of his dorm vignette + one of the earliest TWST arts actually foreshadowing their final dynamic as a group after all the character development. Kinda funny since Malleus still has both horns there, but I did mention I think something will accelerate its regrowth near the climax of Book 8, so yeah🔥

Also if I had to guess what OB!Grim's (and maybe Yuu too) dilemma is, maybe it's purpose? Like he wants to become all-powerful not genuinely but because he thinks it will make him have a reason to be alive and have people stick by him under the pretense of being like his minions. And Yuu has growing dialogue options (among the few they're allowed to have💀) about feeling useless. So I think Malleus slots in nicely there as someone with his own relationship to utility faced with newfound powerlessness (and him showing Grim there is more to being a truly great mage than the power maybe, and come to terms with what he's really afraid of)

[yanderes-galore]

I have Baldur's Gate 3 brainrot and I will make it YOUR problem. Here's HCs of you having Raphael as your patron when being a fiendish warlock.

Yandere! Patron! Raphael with Warlock! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Dubious

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior Occult themes, Violence, Murder, Blood, Mature themes (I elude to, well, sex but it's nothing graphic), Stalking, Kidnapping, Coercion, Haarlep is involved occasionally, Biting/Marking, Branding, Mind control via charm, Forced relationship.

Normally people avoid making deals with devils, cambions, fiends...

However, some are pushed into such an option, specifically if there's nothing else to turn to.

Perhaps you are such a case... Forced to deal with a devil in order or to keep your life.

Raphael isn't picky... He loves to charm mortals into deals.

So... It's expected he comes to you when you're at your worst, right?

Perhaps you were cast out of your home... ostracized for following dark paths... or perhaps you were on the brink of death from an attack?

Maybe you were originally a mage who was punished for being too ambitious.

Or maybe... Well, there's a whole list of reasons why warlocks make pacts, yeah?

Anything from curing a curse to wanting enough power to save yourself or those you love....

Raphael doesn't care for the reason.

When he encountered you, he saw you as another soul he can toy with.

Devils do love their toys.

You looked like a kicked puppy when he found you, such a weak frail thing.

Helpless souls like you are so delectable.

He had originally decided to interact with you in his human guise, to play the part of your savior.

"What a predicament you're in~" He coos, piercing eyes gleaming over your vulnerable form. "Would you like my help?"

Raphael is careful to pick the desperate ones.

Said souls have a harder time refusing his charms.

"I can help you be stronger... Think of me as a friend. I'm sure we can help each other out."

With no other place to go, what else could you do?

Imagine Raphael forcing you into a deal once you're at your worst.

With him, he promises you power, all in exchange for being his servant.

At first it's your typical devil deal.

The fiend allows you to use fiendish magic in exchange for your servitude.

It's mostly simple... a fair price for where you were at before.

Sometimes it's seeking items, other times you serve as a debt collector towards those who are indebted to your cambion master.

You grow used to being at your master's beck and call for years.

You've done horrible things to keep the power you were given.

Yet you've accepted the fact you're not a good person a long time ago.

You stopped being a good person when you met Raphael, practically begging for power to survive.

So, if it comes to killing a few folk and sending them to the Hells for your patron, you'll accept the task.

You're meant to be a plaything, a puppet to do your master's bidding.

Your agreement is simple for a few years.

You think it's what most warlocks deal with when it comes to their patrons.

However... Imagine Yandere! Raphael playing favorites, seeing you as his favorite debt collector.

His favors become more... personal.

You end up being summoned to the House of Hope more often than you'd think.

It's always an unnerving experience to you.

You'll be focused on learning a new spell or tracking down a target, only to feel a chill run down your spine.

It isn't long after an infernal transportation gate opens, making you come face to face with your patron.

He's always charming with his appearances, being theatrical as he tells you he has a new job for you.

You're used to this by now... He invites you to his House of Hope, he tells you of a new debtor, and you're sent off to hunt like a loyal hound.

Yet... Imagine if Raphael simply invites you over to chat?

There's no debtor to be hunted... Your job is just to entertain him with chat.

It's a new yet easier task... One where Raphael promises to teach you a new spell if you indulge.

As time goes along, you'll soon realize these moments you share with your patron are attempts at control.

Raphael, as a narcissistic cambion, enjoys control over you as his warlock.

He chats you up, trying to encourage you to do certain things for him.

Chatting is enough to show Raphael's interest, the devil often asking how your training and jobs are going.

That or asking if you miss him, your dramatic patron.

You can tolerate this for the most part... But devils always seem to surprise you.

Imagine if Raphael adds onto what he likes for favors.

Your patron has been watching you closely lately, call it 'admiring from afar'.

Raphael voices his needs in a way you aren't expecting, mostly because it's out of the blue.

"Little mouse, I desire something new. Perhaps I should give Haarlep a break and have you entertain me instead for a night or two. You'd do it if I ordered right, pet?"

Yes, Raphael seems like a devil who would use intimacy to control his warlock.

Of course, the devil has an incubus who normally keeps him company... but what better way to keep your pact than making you worship him?

At first it disturbs you.

Raphael has never said this was part of your contract.

You could do errands for the infernal beast, but now he's suggesting you bed him?

An unfortunate thing when it comes to devils... is their charm often gets to mortal minds.

He may be no incubus, but he has a certain seduction to him.

If he feels like it, he may allow Haarlep to make you comfortable, using 'Charm' to keep you a compliant little pet.

Raphael is an exploitative beast.

He'll use any means necessary to show you that you're his.

You should feel lucky... normally he isn't a patron for many warlocks.

Plus it's a small price compared to what his eternal debtors go through.

Let him have his fun... Let him leave his mark to keep you as his perfect little mouse.

Then you can go back to wrangling debts, being his enforcer by using his power.

Raphael is sure you reek of him.

His power rolls off you in waves, weaker creatures shuddering due to sensing his presence.

Other fiends can practically smell him on you, quickly making them realize your soul is tainted.

Raphael plans to trap you in his pact, giving you temptation and power, all while having you charmed.

Even the spell 'Protect From Good And Evil' won't help you evade his charm.

Raphael can sense it cast on you, causing the devil frustration.

Even Haarlep finds it amusing, you're clever...

But master has other ways of making his warlock comply.

Raphael covers you in bites, maybe he'll even brand you with a fire spell.

His entire obsession revolves around ways to control you.

He wants your eyes only on him, even when he allows Haarlep to share... You're only allowed to look at your patron.

Raphael plans to train you to crave him, all so can ensure you're loyal to him.

He wants you to need his touch, words, power... Everything.

He wants your worship.

In return, he'll let you channel his power, he'll let you be powerful... As long as you're his.

Raphael feeds you, your stomach and needs for temptation.

To him, it's like luring a mouse.

He'll put out some cheese... he'll make you come out of your mouse hole...

Then, as the cat, he'll pounce.

Even if you try to run, to find a way to remove the contract branded on your soul...

He won't let you.

You think Raphael will ever let you out of debt? Nonsense!

You belong to him.

Even if you tried to run or hide... He'll find you.

You'll be dragged back to the House of Hope like a misbehaving child.

You'll stay in his room until you can behave, Haarlep watching you like a hawk when your patron is gone.

There's no way Raphael is going to allow you to leave.

Ever since you pledged servitude to him... You became his to use as he wishes.

Soon you'll get used to it, soon you'll need him.

He just needs to break his mouse down with some more temptation and punishment...

Then you can be his perfect little plaything... His warlock who listens to his every word like it's law.

[thewulf]

Hidden Away || Rhysand

Summary: Request -hi if ur reqs are open, could you maybe write a fic with rhys where feyre is not his mate but reader? can r also be tamlins sister so when he locked feyre up in the manor, he also locked r with her? then r is just trying to break the barrier but shes draining her powers in the process so when mor and rhys arrive, r is just on the brink of passing out. thank you so so much! hope u have a good day!!

A/N: Rhys is challenging! Let me know how you like it below :) As always thank you for the requests!

Pairing: Rhysand x Female Reader (Spring Court Reader/Tamlin's Sister)

Word Count: 8.4k +

TW: Talks of abuse, use of magic

As Tamlin's nearly unknown sister your life within the Spring Court is shrouded in secrecy. Tucked away from the public eye, you roam the silent corridors of the manor with your presence barely acknowledged. The manor's ancient stones, cool under your fingertips, are the closest companions in your secluded existence. Each day bleeds into the next marked only by your secret practice of magic in the hidden corners of the lush gardens where the wildflowers refuse to be tamed.

Tamlin had his reasons for keeping you a secret though they were rooted in a misguided sense of protection and control rather than genuine care. From the moment you were born your existence was cloaked in secrecy. Tamlin was always wary of political machinations and potential threats from rival courts. He believed that hiding your presence would keep you safe from those who might seek to leverage you against him. As you grew older this excuse became a method to maintain control by suppressing any threat your emerging powers might pose to his authority.

Whenever important guests visited the Spring Court Tamlin would go to great lengths to conceal your existence. Often you were confined to the secluded parts of the manor. Your movements restricted. Your voice silenced. These actions weren't just physically isolating. They were deeply wounding, reinforcing a sense of imprisonment. Over time you learned that resistance was futile. After a century of struggling against Tamlin’s overpowering magic, a magic that you could never hope to match due to your suppressed knowledge and training, you ceased fighting back. Your spirit, dimmed by isolation and the relentless dampening of your will, began to fade.

Despite all this you’ve learned to cloak your discontent with a veneer of obedience by teaching yourself the subtle arts of magic from fragments of ancient texts and whispers of the wind. Each spell you cast is a silent rebellion against the isolation imposed upon you. It wasn’t much but it certainly was something.

Meanwhile, Rhysand had always felt an inexplicable pull towards the Spring Court. This sensation was particularly strong whenever he visited Tamlin's lands. Each step within its borders intensified a feeling of latent connection. A thread of destiny that seemed to tug at his very soul. For years he couldn't decipher this feeling instead attributing it to political tensions or his natural distrust of Tamlin. However, he knew the sensation was far deeper. He just didn’t know he was connected to the bond that lay dormant between him and you waiting for the right moment to awaken.

This mysterious pull was part of the mating bond that neither of you were aware of yet. Rhysand’s visits to the Spring Court were unknowingly steps towards his destiny, towards you. His soul recognized what his mind could not yet understand. That his mate was hidden within the very walls of the Spring Court suppressed under Tamlin’s rule. It was a bond that defied explanation, woven by the threads of fate, magic, and a longing that transcended Rhysand's conscious understanding.

The monotony of your hidden life breaks when Feyre returns from Under the Mountain, changed. No longer the mortal girl who once crossed into the fae lands she now carries the weight of her new immortal form along with the haunting shadows of her trials. Initially your interactions are tentative. The air between you charged with the unsaid. However, as time weaves its slow dance you find in her a kindred spirit. Another soul chafing against the constraints of Tamlin’s overprotective nature.

Under the cover of night where the moon casts silver slivers through the windowpanes you and Feyre meet quietly. There in the tranquility of darkness, you share fragments of your lives. Your years spent hidden within these walls and her days under the mountain and the heavy price of her return. Each story shared tightens the thread of understanding between you.

In these stolen moments you reveal to Feyre the secret magic you’ve nurtured. Her eyes, reflecting the glow of your spells, flicker with a mix of surprise and a burgeoning sense of solidarity. Encouraged by her interest you find the courage to dream of more than just secretive practices. Together you whisper of freedom and plot beneath the starry sky. Your magic mingling with her newfound strength.

Tamlin had cast a powerful and intricate spell around the manor. Not just as a means of protection from external threats but also as a method of control over those within its walls. This spell was multi-layered, designed to enforce Tamlin's rule and suppress any dissent. For you it was a tangible manifestation of your confinement. An ever-present force that limited your movements and dampened your inherent magical abilities.

The spell was woven into the very foundations of the manor. Invisible yet oppressively palpable. It acted as a barrier not just against physical entry but against magical influence from outside. And crucially it curbed the magical potential of those it enclosed. For someone like you whose powers had been stifled and knowledge kept minimal the spell represented a severe handicap. A chain around the very essence of your being.

On a stormy night, you and Feyre found yourselves poring over ancient texts and forbidden scrolls. These documents were hidden away in the darkest corners of the library and contained arcane knowledge that Tamlin had likely never intended for you to find. They spoke of old magic, powerful and untamed, the kind that could potentially unravel the complex web of spells Tamlin had cast.

The air in the library was heavy with the scent of old parchment and an undercurrent of desperation. Each incantation you attempted, every ritual you performed to try and dismantle Tamlin’s barriers, drained you more profoundly than the last. The magical exertion pulled at the very essence of your being. Proof to the spell's strength and your own nascent powers trying to break free.

Feyre who was transformed and strengthened by her ordeal under the mountain was exactly what you needed beside you. She lent her newfound powers to your cause. Yet, as the night unfolded and the storm outside mirrored the tumult within her concern for you deepened. She saw the physical and magical toll the efforts took on you. The color draining from your face. Your hands trembling with the strain. But still, you wouldn’t give up. Couldn’t give up.

Despite the risk the need to break free from the suffocating constraints of Tamlin’s spell pushed you both forward. It wasn't just about escape. It was about reclaiming your right to autonomy, to magic, to life itself. The friendship that grew between you and Feyre was cemented not just by shared secrets but by this mutual struggle for liberation. A struggle against the literal and figurative walls that Tamlin had erected around you.

As dawn approached with the storm still raging outside you and Feyre reached a critical point in your efforts. A breakthrough seemed tantalizingly within reach. The words on the ancient scrolls beginning to resonate with the energy you both channeled. The walls of the manor groaned under the pressure of your combined powers. A sure sign that Tamlin's spell was finally beginning to falter.

Determined to break the oppressive chains once and for all you both head into the heart of the storm where the barrier's energy pulses strongest. The rain beats down mercilessly mingling with the energy of your combined spell. A desperate, powerful incantation aimed at shattering the bonds. The backlash is swift and fierce. A surge of raw, antagonistic energy from the barrier meets your spell head-on. The impact is like a physical blow, knocking the breath from your lungs and sending sharp tendrils of pain coursing through your veins. The world tilts dangerously with your vision narrowing.

Feyre grips your hands as her own powers flared around you both in a protective embrace. "We can do this, Y/N, just a bit more—"

But her encouragement turns to a scream of horror as your legs give out completely. Your strength finally failing. As you collapse into her arms, your consciousness fading, her fear peaks. "No! Y/N, no, stay with me, please!" The raw panic in her voice is palpable. Her plea filled with a primal terror that she cannot contain. Her scream is not just vocal. It's a surge of emotional energy that travels through the bargain she shares with Rhysand.

At that moment, in the distant Night Court, Rhysand feels a jolt. A sharp, unbidden intrusion into his thoughts. Feyre’s voice was distorted by panic and edged with despair, echoes in his mind. "No! Y/N, no, stay with me, please!" The words hit him with the force of a physical blow. His heart races. His instincts scream. Without a second thought he’s on his feet. The protective and commanding part of him taking over. Mor sensed the urgency. She looks up from her work with alarm spreading across her face.

"We need to go to the Spring Court. We must go now." Rhysand barks out. His voice brooking no argument. He can't explain how he knows only that the terror in Feyre's voice has triggered something primal in him. Something fiercely protective. As he and Mor prepare to leave Rhysand's mind races with possibilities. His worry mounting with each passing second. The bargain was not one of mates but has acted as a lifeline in this critical moment. He is driven by a deep-seated need to respond, to protect, to arrive in time.

In the dim light of the storm-lashed evening back in the confines of the Spring Court, Feyre cradled you against her as her arms forming a protective barrier against the unrelenting winds and rain that battered the walls of the manor. The spells that Tamlin had woven around the estate groaned under the strain, resonating with the fury of the storm.

As you lay there nearly depleted by your attempts to break through Tamlin’s magical barriers you found every breath to be a battle. Feyre leaned close. Her voice barely audible above the howl of the wind. "Help is coming, Y/N. Just hold on. Please, hold on." Her words were infused with a mixture of determination and desperation. A fervent plea cast into the chaos of the night.

Despite her assurances you knew that Feyre had no way of knowing if help would truly come. She wasn't versed in the intricacies of the bargain she made, nor did she understand the silent, unseen forces that might be at play beyond the reach of Tamlin’s spells. Her faith was not based on certainty but on hope. A hope that Rhysand was somehow attuned to the peril you faced and would sense your need and find a way to breach the seemingly impenetrable defenses of the Spring Court.

As the minutes stretched into what felt like hours, the storm outside seemed to mirror the tumult of your emotions. With every gust of wind, with every crack of thunder, you felt the edges of your resolve fray. Yet with Feyre’s presence and her unwavering support it fortified you. Together you were wrapped in the scant warmth her body provided against the chill of the rain. You waited silently hoping.

Feyre continued to whisper into the storm. Words of encouragement and silent prayers mingled with the rain reaching out into the night as if the very force of her will could summon the help you so desperately needed.

As Rhysand and Mor race through the turbulent night sky the urgency of Feyre's distress call pulses within Rhysand. However, the formidable magical barrier erected by Tamlin at the Spring Court looms as a daunting obstacle. As they approach the boundary Rhysand's expression turns contemplative knowing they must penetrate the shield without triggering a violent magical backlash that could harm those inside.

"We can't just break through. It could harm them," Rhysand says. His thoughts on Feyre and the unknown others who might be caught in Tamlin’s protective snare. He suspects there are more secrets hidden within the Spring Court than Feyre alone.

Mor nods before pointing towards a section of the barrier shimmering less steadily than the rest—a weak point. "Here, let me," she offers, her hands glowing with a soft, probing light.

Together, they carefully manipulate the energies. Mor’s magic coaxing the threads of the barrier apart while Rhysand supports and stabilizes the surrounding spells to prevent a sudden collapse. The barrier relents under their skilled hands. Parting just enough to allow them a silent passage.

Once inside they quickly make their way towards the garden guided by the unerring pull of Rhysand's intuition, which grows stronger with each step. The night air is heavy with the scent of rain-soaked earth and the lingering traces of magic.

There, under an ancient oak, they find you lying in Feyre's protective embrace. Your appearance is startling to Rhysand. You were someone he's heard of but never met. A whispered secret of the Spring Court. Feyre’s eyes were wide with fear and relief. She meets their stares as they approach.

Rhysand’s initial intent to aid Feyre shifts as he catches your gaze. Something profound stirs within him as your eyes lock. There’s an unexpected jolt. A powerful surge of protectiveness that grips him. His knees nearly buckle under the sudden intensity of the emotion. His breath catching in his throat. The connection is unexpected, overwhelming, and in that moment, the significance of your presence begins to dawn on him.

"We will get you both out of here," Rhysand finds himself saying, the words carrying a weight he hadn't anticipated. His voice is gentle. Meant to reassure as he reaches out to steady you. His own magic instinctively flaring to envelop you in a warm, healing glow.

The touch confirms what his heart has already started to suspect. The mating bond, still new and unexplored, thrums with a rightness that transcends his understanding. It’s only when he helps lift you, his arms secure around you, that the realization fully settles in… his fate is irrevocably tied to yours.

With Mor and Feyre's assistance they carefully navigate back through the garden. Rhysand carrying you with an ease that belies the turmoil brewing within him. Each step back through the breach in the barrier is a step towards a new unknown, a journey he hadn't planned but now cannot imagine avoiding. As they slip back into the night heading towards the sanctuary of the Night Court Rhysand is quiet. His thoughts a whirl of possibilities and new realities. Beside him Mor watches thoughtfully. She was acutely aware that the High Lord of the Night Court was about to embark on a profoundly personal journey.

-

The night was deep and still when Rhysand was abruptly torn from his sleep. A sharp, jarring pulse of panic surged through the bond—a connection still new and startling in its intensity. It was you, finally waking from your long, enforced slumber, and the raw fear that washed over him from your end of the bond had him on his feet before he fully registered moving.

His heart raced as he crossed the space between his private chambers and the room where you rested. The halls of his residence silent save for the quiet thud of his bare feet on the cool marble floor. The bond pulsed with each heartbeat guiding him directly to you underscoring the urgency of your distress with every step he took.

As Rhysand approached the door to your room, he paused, taking a deep breath to calm the storm of his emotions. He needed to be a presence of peace for you not one of turmoil. Gently pushing the door open he stepped inside. His eyes quickly adjusting to the low light that bathed the room in gentle silvers and blues.

There you were attempting to sit up, your movements clumsy with weakness and disorientation. The room's luxuriousness that meant to comfort seemed only to add to your confusion. You grasped at the sheets. Your breathing quick and shallow as if the soft fabrics were the only things tethering you to reality.

Rhysand’s heart clenched at the sight. It was one thing to feel your panic through the bond, but quite another to see it etched so clearly across your features. He approached slowly. His presence commanding yet gentle, stopping a respectful distance away to not overwhelm you. His deep-set eyes, usually a striking shade of violet were clouded with concern.

"It’s okay, you’re safe here," Rhysand said. His voice a soft yet firm anchor in the swirling uncertainty you felt. His relief at seeing you awake, even in such a state, was palpable in his tone. Despite the fear there was an underlying gratitude that you were finally conscious. That there was a beginning of recovery however fraught it might be. "You're in Velaris, the heart of the Night Court." He adds hopping to provide you some comfort.

"Velaris?" you repeat. The name unfamiliar and puzzling. You squint at him trying to place the city that sounds more like a myth than reality.

"Yes, Velaris," he continues noting your confusion. "It's a city unlike any in the fae realms, hidden and protected by powerful spells. It's a place of peace and freedom. It is far from the reach of those who would impose their will unjustly." His voice holds a note of pride when he speaks of the city, and his explanation paints a picture of a safe haven. A contrast to the oppressive atmosphere of the Spring Court.

Seeing your slightly eased expression he decided to introduce himself, "I'm Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court." He keeps his tone even giving you space to process the flood of new information. "You were very ill, so we brought you here to recover. Tamlin cannot reach you here. Our city's protections are strong."

His explanation about Tamlin brings a different kind of tightness to your chest—the fear of pursuit and retribution. Feeling and seeing your growing anxiety, Rhysand adds, "Tamlin has no power here. You and Feyre are both safe and you will always have a place in Velaris."

As Rhysand speaks of Velaris and its protections you find yourself momentarily comforted by his description of the city as a safe haven. Yet, another concern quickly surfaces, tugging at your thoughts with earnest sincerity.

"And Feyre?" you ask. Your voice carrying the weight of genuine worry. "Is she okay?" Your expression reveals the depth of your concern not just for your own situation but also for Feyre who had been entangled in your fate by association.

Rhysand’s expression softens further at your question. His smile tinged with a mix of admiration and surprise. He steps closer, his presence comforting rather than overwhelming. "She is doing well," he assures you, leaning down slightly to meet your gaze more directly. "Are you going to ask about everyone but yourself?" His tone is light and teasing yet it carries an undercurrent of deep respect for your altruism.

He finds it endearing how your first thoughts are for others even in your own time of uncertainty and recovery. It’s a trait he notes is incredibly sweet. Almost too kind for someone who grew up under Tamlin's strict and often harsh rule as his sister, no less.

A faint smile flickers across your face at Rhysand’s light teasing before it quickly fades. You glance away looking out over the vista that the Night Court offers feeling a sudden tightness in your chest. "I... it's just easier to worry about others," you murmur. Your voice barely above a whisper. The unfamiliar concern in his eyes makes you unexpectedly uncomfortable. A reminder of how long you've had to rely solely on yourself. You shift away slightly putting a small distance between you and Rhysand as if the space could help you regain some control. "I'm not used to being someone's concern," you add while keeping your gaze averted. "It feels strange I guess. Not having to fend for myself."

Your words hang in the air showing the walls you've built from years under Tamlin's rule. The Spring Court was a place where self-reliance wasn't just a trait but a necessity for survival. The vulnerability of relying on someone else, even someone as seemingly gentle as Rhysand, feels as foreign as the magical landscape of Velaris itself.

Rhysand senses a subtle shift in your emotions through the bond. A twinge of discomfort, a whisper of withdrawal. He understands too well the complexities of adjusting to new dynamics of care and concern. As you glance away he gives you a moment. He respects your need for space before responding himself.

With a slight adjustment in his stance, Rhysand maintains his gentle smile, hoping to ease the tension. "Feyre visits often," he begins, his voice soft, an attempt to gently steer the conversation towards a more comfortable topic. "She's taken quite well to her roles here. She worries about you too, you know," he adds trying to build a connection through your shared concern for Feyre.

His words bring a small comfort, and you nod to him feeling a thread of relief woven through the lingering disquiet. "That's good to hear," you murmur giving yourself a moment to absorb the reassurances about Feyre's well-being.

Rhysand watches you with a thoughtful expression appreciating the selflessness displayed in your first waking moments. "Now, let’s focus a bit on you," he suggests kindly. "You’ve been through a lot and while Velaris is safe… I imagine it's quite a lot to take in."

Rhysand's words wash over you and you pause to absorb them feeling both comforted and overwhelmed by his understanding. "It is a lot," you agree softly, your gaze drifting around the unfamiliar yet beautiful room. "Everything here is so different. So overwhelming but not in a bad way."

You take a deep breath making sure to gather your thoughts before continuing. "I appreciate the safety and the peace here, Rhysand. It's just... I'm still figuring out where I fit into all of this." Your voice is tentative, reflecting your uncertainty about the future.

Rhysand nods. His expression empathetic. "And that's perfectly okay," he reassures you gently. "Take all the time you need to feel comfortable. There’s no pressure for you to decide anything right now."

Feeling a mix of reassurance and nascent courage from his support you decide to push yourself a bit. Attempting to rise from the bed, your movements are unsteady. A reminder of the physical and emotional tolls from your past. You pause, placing a hand on the mattress to steady yourself.

Rhysand notices your struggle immediately. His sharp gaze softening with concern. "You shouldn't be on your feet just yet," he cautions with his voice gentle yet firm.

You steady yourself with a hand against the soft bedding and look up at him. Your eyes were wide and earnest, silently pleading for understanding before you voice your deep-seated longing. "Please, I've... I’ve never left the Spring Court. I wish to see what other courts look like."

The raw honesty in your words strikes Rhysand deeply. He hesitates aware of the physical contact you might need to stand and walk, yet also conscious of the trauma you’ve likely endured under Tamlin's watch. His heart clenches at the thought of your centuries-long confinement. A life that wasn’t meant to be spent caged within a single court's borders.

As you continue to gaze at him with a mix of hope and vulnerability in your eyes Rhysand's resolve softens. "Alright," he murmurs. His expression a mix of encouragement and a hint of sadness for your past suffering. He steps forward offering his arm for support being careful to let you decide the level of contact you're comfortable with.

When you gratefully accept his help you leant slightly into his strength. Rhysand carefully supports you, mindful of your frailty. As he guides you slowly around the room his mind races. He was appalled by the reality that you, centuries old, have been essentially a prisoner for just as long.

"We’ll start with Velaris," Rhysand says as you take tentative steps towards the balcony. "It’s beautiful this time of year. The city is alive with lights and the people are free. You'll see, it’s a world away from what you've known."

Your curiosity brightens your features as each small detail of the room you now notice seeming to intrigue you. Rhysand watches this small transformation with a protective fierceness settling in his chest. He makes a silent vow then, to not only show you the beauty of the Night Court but to gradually introduce you to the freedoms and wonders of each of the courts ensuring you experience everything you've been denied.

With each step you take leaning on Rhysand a surprising sense of security begins to wash over you. There’s an inexplicable comfort in his presence. A safety that seems to emanate from him directly. You can't quite pinpoint why he feels so safe, why every instinct isn’t screaming for you to run from the unknown. But as you lean more heavily against him while navigating through the unfamiliar room it felt right.

Rhysand notices the subtle shift in your demeanor. The slight relaxation in your posture as you trust him more with each tentative step. It’s a trust he doesn’t take lightly as he was acutely aware of the preciousness of it given your past. He guides you gently, ensuring each movement is steady and unhurried.

“Just a little further,” he encourages softly as you approach the grand doors leading to the balcony. As he pushes the doors open a gentle breeze wafts in carrying with it the unique scents of Velaris. The crisp, clean air mingled with distant sea salt and the vibrant aroma of night-blooming flowers.

You step onto the balcony and the view that unfolds before you steals your breath away. The city of Velaris stretches out beneath a sky littered with stars. Its buildings adorned with luminescent glyphs and streets alive with softly glowing lanterns. The Sidra River reflects the lights creating a sparkling path that leads to the heart of the city. Your eyes dart from spot to spot taking in the sight of sprawling bridges. From the artistic sculptures that line the walkways to the fae moving about with an ease and freedom so alien to what you’ve known. Everything is so vibrant, so vividly alive. It's like stepping into a dream.

Rhysand watches you. His expression a mix of pride and gentle amusement. “It’s a lot to take in,” he say as his voice is barely above a whisper not wanting to break the enchantment of the moment.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe out as your voice was filled with wonder. "I never imagined..." Your words trail off as you continue to soak in the sight, the reality of Velaris surpassing any tale or description of the Night Court you had ever heard in the Spring Court.

As you stand there, awestruck, Rhysand stands close. He was ready to offer support if needed but giving you space to experience this revelation on your own terms. There’s a warmth in his gaze. A certain softness when he looks at you, moved by your reaction, understanding just how transformative this moment is for you. “This is only a part of what the world has to offer,” Rhysand finally says, his voice low and encouraging. “And you’re free to explore all of it at your own pace. You’re not confined here, or anywhere anymore.”

As his words wash over you a new fear prickles at the edges of your newfound sense of wonder. "But Tamlin..." you start. His name a dark cloud threatening to overshadow the bright promise of freedom.

Rhysand’s reaction is immediate though. He shakes his head, cutting off your spiraling worry with a firmness that is both surprising and comforting. "Tamlin will never touch another hair on your head, darling. I will ensure it." His voice is resolute as it leaves no room for doubt. The sincerity in his tone and the warmth of his smile are reassuring, conveying a depth of commitment that makes you believe him. He’s telling the truth. You can feel it not just in his words but in the protective energy that seems to radiate from him.

As you stand there on the balcony looking out over the luminous city a confusion mingles with your gratitude. He is the High Lord of the Night Court. A figure of immense power and responsibility. Why would he extend such kindness, such personal assurance, to you? His station alone would suggest a detachment from individual affairs, yet here he is, offering not just his protection but his personal attention.

"Why?" The question escapes you before you can think better of it. Your gaze turning from the cityscape to meet his eyes. "Why would you do this for me? You're the High Lord, and yet..."

Rhysand’s expression softens understanding the root of your bewilderment. "Because everyone deserves freedom and safety," he begins, his gaze steady and earnest. "And because, despite my title I see no one as beneath my care. Especially not someone who has suffered as you have under such tyranny."

His words hint at a broader philosophy. One that governs his rule, a complete difference to the oppressive leadership of Tamlin. "Here in Velaris we protect our own and now that includes you. You’re not just under my protection because of duty but because I believe in a world where everyone has the right to choose their own path, free from fear."

His explanation resonates with you. The sincerity and conviction in his voice weaving a stronger thread of trust between you. The High Lord of the Night Court you realize is not just a ruler but a protector. He was guided by a compassion that perhaps defines his reign more than his power. As you absorb his words the city of Velaris seems to glow a little brighter. Its lights a hope of the promise Rhysand offers. A promise not just of shelter but of a life reclaimed and respected.

As Rhysand's words and the gentle sincerity behind them settle over you something shifts inside you. The fear that had been a constant companion starts to ebb away instead replaced by a sense of security you hadn’t felt in a very long time. Standing beside him, overlooking the luminous city of Velaris, you allow yourself a moment to truly take in his presence. A protector not just in title but in spirit.

The tension that had knotted your shoulders begins to unwind and without fully realizing it a small smile curves your lips. It's slight but it's the first genuine smile you’ve allowed yourself in what feels like centuries. "You know, my brother made you seem terrifying," you confess as the smile growing a bit as you speak. "You're anything but that though."

Rhysand catches the change in your expression and his eyes light up with amusement. In response he flashes you a devastatingly handsome smirk, one that's known to both unsettle and charm. "Did he now?" he says lowly. His voice laced with mock severity before it softens into warmth. "Perhaps I should be offended but coming from Tamlin I'll take it as a compliment."

His response was light and teasing. Spoken to ease the atmosphere, to let you know that it's okay to relax, to laugh, to feel safe. "Tamlin has always had a flair for the dramatic," Rhysand continues. His tone playful now. "But I hope that here in Velaris you’ll see me as I am. And perhaps find that the 'terrifying' High Lord of the Night Court can also be a friend." His words were spoken with a gentle candor and encourage a lighter heart. The warmth in his voice, the open invitation to view him as more than just a lord but as a person, deepens the budding trust and comfort you feel in his presence.

As the night air swirls around you carrying with it the vibrant energies of Velaris you find yourself more receptive to the idea of a new start. Rhysand with his easy charm and sincere protection seems not just a guardian but a companion on this journey of rediscovery. His ability to blend strength with kindness, authority with empathy, makes you believe that maybe, just maybe, you can truly start anew here.

"You make it sound almost easy," you reply. The smile now firmly in place, feeling more natural than it has for ages.

Rhysand's smirk softens into a genuine smile. "I'll do my best to make it feel that way," he assures you. "You’ve had enough of the hard path. It’s time for you to experience the peace you deserve."

-

In the weeks following your awakening Rhys had been a constant, reassuring presence by your side as you navigated the complexities of the Night Court. The city of Velaris had begun to feel less like a foreign land and more like a potential home. Rhys had carefully gauged when you might be ready to meet more people. He was intentionally keeping even his closest friends, Cassian and Azriel, at a distance to allow you time to adjust. He mentioned plans to introduce them soon ensuring that you felt comfortable with each new step.

During this time your days were filled with activities that gradually stitched you into the fabric of this new life. Rhys guided you through physical training sessions aiming to strengthen both your body and spirit. But it wasn’t all rigorous. You spent serene afternoons with Feyre, dabbling in painting. Despite your initial lack of skill Feyre was a patient teacher, encouraging every brushstroke. In exchange you helped her continue learning to read turning each session into a mutual exchange of growth and laughter.

It was a clear, crisp day in Velaris. The kind of day that made the light seem to dance off every surface, imbuing the world with a vivid sharpness. You were in the middle of a training session with Rhysand in one of the secluded gardens of the Night Court practicing your swordplay. The metal felt cool and heavy in your hands as it slowly became more familiar with each controlled swing and parry.

Rhys was ever the patient instructor. He watched and guided you, his instructions both precise and encouraging. As you moved to execute a particularly complex maneuver, something unexpected happened. Amidst the focus on your movements and the rhythm of the blades, a sudden surge of warmth blossomed deep within your chest radiating outwards like the morning sun cresting the horizon.

It was an intense, engulfing wave that seemed to momentarily still the world around you. The sensation was as if a veil had been lifted, connecting you to Rhysand in an indescribably profound way. It felt as though your very souls had reached out and intertwined creating a bond that pulsed with life and energy.

"What... what was that?" you gasped, lowering your sword as you looked up at Rhysand, your heart pounding not from exertion but from the shock of the unexpected connection. The air between you seemed charged, heavy with a significance that you struggled to comprehend.

Rhysand���s eyes met yours with a spark of recognition and perhaps something akin to relief flashing across his features. His stance softened, and the world seemed to resume its usual pace, but the atmosphere remained changed. It was thick with the newfound awareness between you.

"That," Rhysand said softly. His voice steady yet filled with a warmth that echoed the sensation in your chest, "was the mating bond. It's rare, profound. A connection of souls that can occur between two individuals. It seems it has chosen to manifest between us now."

His words sank in, each one laden with meaning as you tried to process the enormity of what had just occurred. The bond, this deep and intrinsic link, had unveiled itself without warning. It aligned you with Rhysand in a way that went beyond mere physical presence or shared goals. It was as if a part of you had known him, deeply and irrevocably, for much longer than you physically had.

The weight of his confession hung in the air. Heavy with the realization of how deeply the bond affected him from the very beginning. “You mean, we’re..." you started, the reality of his words slowly sinking in.

"Mates," Rhysand confirmed gently. "Yes. And while that might mean many things, know this—you're not bound by it against your will. We can explore what it means together, at your pace." The reassurance in his words allowed you to smile, feeling a genuine connection to the path unfolding before you. The bond was no longer just an abstract force. It was a tangible link between your present recovery and a future filled with possibilities.

Rhysand watched you with something akin to awe as you carefully practiced the sword techniques he had shown you. "We have all the time in the world," he said softly. His eyes never leaving yours. "There's no rush. You’re safe here, with me, with us, in Velaris."

His words seemed to only deepen the stir of emotions within you. Pausing, the sword momentarily forgotten in your hand, you met his gaze, vulnerability shadowing your features. "And... are you okay with that? A bond with me of all people?" Your voice was tinged with disbelief as though the very idea of someone like Rhysand being tied to you was something unfathomable.

The sadness that flickered across Rhysand’s face was swift, a passing cloud on a sunny day, but it was enough to reveal the depth of his feelings. He set aside his own weapon and stepped closer with his expression turning earnest. "I can't think of anything I'd want more," he said quietly while reaching for your hand to provide a tangible reassurance. "These past few weeks of getting to know you, seeing your strength and your kindness. It's not just the bond that makes me feel this way. I... I already care about you, deeply."

His confession hung in the air between you, sincere and heartfelt. The way he looked at you in that moment, his eyes filled with a gentle intensity, made it clear that his words were not merely spoken out of obligation or a sense of duty that the bond might impose. They were rooted in genuine affection and respect for the person you were.

Rhysand gently squeezed your hand, his touch warm and encouraging. "I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have this bond with you," he continued with a soft smile touching his lips as he tried to alleviate the heavy atmosphere. "You're remarkable darling. And yes, I am more than okay with it. I’m grateful."

His reassurance was spoken with such candor and helped ease some of the uncertainty that weighed on you. The bond was once a source of confusion and a reminder of your past constraints but began to feel more like a gift. An unexpected but precious connection to someone who not only promised safety but offered understanding and companionship.

As Rhysand released your hand and stepped back, giving you the space to process his heartfelt words, a sense of warmth unfurled within you. The weight of uncertainties began to lift replaced by a burgeoning sense of connection to this man who was both your protector and, unexpectedly, your confidant.

Mirroring the soft smile that graced Rhysand's lips you found the courage to voice your own budding feelings, simple yet profound. "I like you too, Rhysand," you said. Your voice carrying a tender sincerity that made his smile widen. "More than I thought I would." The admission was shy, sweet. A genuine acknowledgment of the bond growing between you both not just magically but emotionally.

His eyes lit up with a mixture of relief and happiness. The atmosphere around you charged with a gentle, joyful energy. The training session resumed but now there was a lightness to your movements. A reflection of the ease settling in your heart. The conversation with Rhysand, though brief, lingered in your mind like a cherished melody. It was a powerful reminder of the new beginnings and genuine connections now possible in your life with Rhysand and the Night Court. A life that was slowly but surely becoming your own.

As you navigated through each day your confidence grew and the tapestry of your new life in Velaris began to weave itself more vividly. Each encounter, each lesson with Rhysand, and every quiet moment spent under the stars of the Night Court fortified your sense of belonging. These experiences were threads in a vibrant, ever-expanding fabric, each one adding strength and color to your life.

One evening as you stood beside Rhysand on the quiet sanctuary of your favorite balcony overlooking Velaris, you felt a calm certainty settle over you. Below, the city sparkled. A tapestry of light and life that seemed to pulse with the same vibrant energy that now flowed through your veins. Rhysand's gaze was fixed on the horizon, the soft glow of the city lights casting shadows across his strong features when you turned to him ready to voice the thoughts that had been crystallizing in your mind.

"You know," you began. Your voice steady and clear, "I've spent a lot of time thinking about what all of this means. The mating bond, this new life, everything."

Rhysand turned to you with his expression open and attentive. The bond between you hummed softly. It was a growing and comforting presence at the back of your mind.

"I've realized that this bond... it's not just a tie to you. It's a connection to myself. To a life I didn't think was possible," you continued. The words flowing more freely than you expected. "I accept it, Rhysand. Not just accept it… I'm grateful for it. For you."

A slow smile spread across Rhysand's face. That beautiful smile you were slowly coming to cherish. "I can't tell you what it means to hear you say that," he said as his voice was thick with emotion. "You've become a part of this world. A part of my world in a way I always hoped but never dared to expect."

Encouraged by your acceptance and the growth you had shown Rhys felt that the time was right for a significant next step. As the days progressed and you continued to integrate more deeply into the fabric of the Night Court he planned an upcoming evening that would mark a new chapter in your life. The occasion was chosen with care. Not rushed but timed perfectly to coincide with your readiness to meet new faces and embrace the wider community of the Night Court. It was a testament to your journey thus far and a celebration of the future you were building together.

With the day finally set, a gentle breeze whispering promises through the halls, the stars above Velaris began to unveil themselves in the twilight sky. The air was charged with a sense of anticipation. Rhysand who was usually the epitome of composure carried a subtle excitement mixed with nerves as he prepared to introduce you to Cassian, Azriel, and the rest of the Inner Circle. This evening was not just another night. It was a milestone, a true celebration of your integration into his world and the bonds you would soon form with those closest to him.

You had spent the afternoon with Feyre who had helped you select a gown for the evening. The dress was a deep shade of midnight blue and adorned with silver threads that mimicked the starlit sky of Velaris. It perfectly embodied the essence of the Night Court. As you descended the grand staircase the gown flowed around you like a night shadow brought to life.

At the base of the steps Rhysand waited. His usual composure shaken as he caught sight of you. The world seemed to pause, his breath caught in his throat, his heart raced rapidly. There, in the soft glow of the House of Wind you looked not just a part of the Night Court but as if you were its very spirit. The realization that you were his mate, utterly beautiful and resplendent in the regalia of his court, struck him with renewed force.

Rhysand who was ever mindful of the boundaries and comfort of those around him had been particularly cautious about not overwhelming you with the intimate connection that mind-speaking entails. Despite this, the sight of you this evening descending the grand staircase dressed for the event was simply too much for him to resist. The gown you wore reflected the starlit sky of Velaris and accentuated your presence. It made you seem as ethereal as the city itself. Overcome with admiration, he reached out with his mind. "You look breathtaking, darling," his voice echoed in your thoughts for the first time in a while, startling you slightly with its warmth and closeness.

The mental whisper drew a surprised laugh from you. A sound that delighted him to no end. Rhysand's smile broadened. His eyes twinkling with mischief as he observed your reaction. "I see we still need to work on your shields, won't we?" he added playfully. His tone warm and teasing. It was moments like these he cherished deeply. Ones that always kept you on your toes. A trait you’d come to love about him.

Blushing slightly at the intimacy of his mental caress you couldn't help but respond in kind. Your newfound boldness surprising even yourself. "Perhaps I left them down on purpose Rhysand," you flirted back. Your mental voice a soft murmur that only he could hear.

Rhysand’s eyebrows shot up in amused surprise. A rich laugh escaping him that resonated deeply in the space around you. "Is that so? Well, in that case, I might have to keep complimenting you just to see what else you intentionally leave unguarded," he teased back, the affection in his voice unmistakable.

His impulsive act, born from a burst of admiration, turned into a playful exchange that highlighted the growing ease and affection between you. Rhysand quickly added sensing your enjoyment yet still cautious of overstepping, "Apologies if that was too much, but seeing you tonight, I couldn't help myself."

This flirty banter, interwoven with moments of laughter and shared glances, underscored the deepening connection between you both. Even as Rhys continued to respect your boundaries. He also found joy in these light-hearted exchanges, each one building upon the last. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a mix of amusement and warmth from his words. This gentle mental whisper was another sign of how your relationship with Rhysand was deepening, weaving together both profound moments and light-hearted banter.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs Rhysand gently took your hand helping you to navigate the last step. His presence was comforting and his proximity a reminder of how much had changed between you. The grandeur of the staircase faded into the background as you focused solely on him.

You couldn't help the smile that danced across your lips, nor the lightness in your heart from his words. "No need to apologize, Rhys," you responded. Your voice a blend of amusement and reassurance. "I quite liked it. It's... nice, hearing your thoughts sometimes."

"We’ll make quite the team, you and I," Rhysand said, his voice now audible. A soft yet clear tone that carried through the grand space. "With or without your shields up, darling."

The playful banter that had begun in the privacy of your minds seamlessly flowed into the verbal exchange adding layers to your communication and highlighting the ease and comfort developing between you both. As you looked up into his eyes, still sparkling with that same affectionate mischief, you felt that profound connection. The bond was not just magical but deeply personal, spanning the quiet thoughts shared in whispers and the words spoken in the open.

This moment, under the soft lights and the eyes of the Night Court, solidified something essential between you and Rhysand. A partnership built on mutual respect, affection, and a delightful undercurrent of flirtation that promised many more such exchanges in the days to come.

Rhysand led you through the lush, starlit gardens of the Night Court where Cassian, Azriel, and others from the Inner Circle awaited. As you approached the atmosphere was charged with an understated anticipation. Both Cassian and Azriel rose to greet you both their expressions blending curiosity and respect.

Cassian's greeting was robust yet heartfelt. "Rhys didn't prepare us for someone quite so captivating," he remarked with a friendly nod. His tone genuine and devoid of any overstatement. His smile was infectious. He quickly added in a more casual tone, "And I hear you're as quick-witted as you are graceful. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Azriel who Rhys described as more reserved offered a calm nod. His deep-set eyes thoughtful as he assessed you with a discerning gaze. "Welcome to the Night Court," he said. His voice soft yet carrying a warmth that invited trust. During the evening as you engaged in a discussion about the strategic intricacies of the court’s defenses Azriel's respect visibly deepened. Later, he quietly shared with Rhysand, "She has a keen sense for the nuances of strategy. You've chosen well. She’s not just impressive in demeanor but in intellect."

Throughout the evening laughter and substantive conversations filled the garden. Cassian's heartier chuckles complemented your more measured humor. While Azriel engaged you with discussions that tested your insight into the court’s history and its future.

Rhysand watched these exchanges with a sense of deep satisfaction. The way you engaged with his friends. Not just with politeness but with a genuine interest and understanding solidified your place among them. Cassian’s easy camaraderie and Azriel’s quiet approval spoke volumes of their acceptance.

As the night progressed under the expansive, star-filled sky of Velaris your initial sense of being an outsider slowly dissipated. You found yourself woven into the evening’s tapestry as seamlessly as the shadows melded into the night. Each shared story, each moment of laughter, helped stitch you further into the fabric of this vibrant community.

Standing there among new friends you experienced yet another profound shift within. With Rhysand at your side and the bond between you growing stronger by the day you realized you had discovered much more than a haven. You had found a new family, a purpose, and a place where you truly belonged. The night ended not just with a feeling of contentment but with a renewed sense of anticipation for the future.

ACOTAR Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @kenn-spencerswifey @guacam011y @illisea @hiireadstuff @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @lilah-asteria

[fandoms--fluff]

Can you do more katherine and Elijah having a child? 

Safe

Flufftober, October 12th

Baby daughter witch reader x Katherine Pierce x Elijah Mikaelson

Warnings: None

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

"Dada!" You exclaim and run up to where Elijah entered the apartment. He closes the door behind him before lifting you up into his arms. "Hey, Sweetheart." Elijah tells you, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"Hello, Katerina" Elijah smiles over to Katherine. She followed your little toddle run and stood back as your father picked you up.

"Hey, Elijah" She smirks as he walks over to her with you on his hip. He places a kiss to her lips and she leans in, it's been longer than usual since his last visit.

He's been busy with his family and everything happening in town with the Salvatores and her doppelganger. And he didn't want to draw any unwanted attention by anyone by visiting you guys.

The apartment Katherine compelled is massive, to the point where it shouldn't be called just an apartment. But it's in the downtown area of town. It may be in the middle of town, but it's more hidden away than one may think.

But he's finally got the chance to come over and Katherine couldn't be happier. She's missed her husband, and she could also tell you missed him as well. Katherine gave birth to you almost two years ago now, her and Elijah still aren't sure how it happened, but they wouldn't change it for the world.

You're a first born Mikaelson witch, so there are obvious complications with your magical abilities going haywire when you don't mean to do anything. Though, when you were almost a year old, Elijah found a witch who charmed a bracelet to help control your magic and keep it at bay while you grow up and learn to control them.

So that's the reason why a dangling silver bracelet is looped three times around your wrist to stay in place. You don't mind it, the only problem is sometimes your Mama will have to pull your arm away from your mouth when you start to suck on it. Instead, replacing it with a pacifier.

"No one followed you, right?" Katherine asks, just wanting to be sure. "I made sure no one following or any spell was cast" He reassures his wife as he bounces you in his arms.

You cuddles into your Dada's chest, paying no mind to what they're talking about. You missed your Dada a lot, you haven't seen him it so long. At least that's what it feels to you.

Your Mama doesn't take you out a lot. And when she does it's already dark out and your in the forest or in a different town. Either way you have fun with her.

"Alright, that's good. I just wanted to make sure. I don't want anything to happen to her" Katherine places a hand on your small back. "Of course. And speaking so, how has our little girl been?" He asks, leading Katherine to the couch, and sits down.

She follows and sits beside you guys, leaning into Elijah's side. "She's been a perfect little girl. The only thing we've had to worry about is bathroom clean up after her baths. She likes to splash the water and bubbles everywhere. Don't you, Sweetie?" She runs her fingers up and down your side.

You let out a round of giggles caused by your Mama and nod your head the best you could while nuzzling your head into your Dada's chest.

"She's also found a liking for colouring. Our little angel has a colouring book full of them" Katherine says. "Well, that's amazing, she's our mini artist now, huh?" Elijah leans down and places a kiss on the crown of your head, making you snuggle more into his warmth.

"Has she drawn on the walls yet? I've heard kids her age tend to do stuff like that" Elijah asks, remembering hearing a conversation between the Forbes and Bennett girls as they were talking about old memories.

"Thankfully, not yet. But I doubt it's going to happen. Y/n's a very good listener" Katherine hums and rests a hand on Elijah's thigh in contempt.

"I'm sorry for not being here enough. I know it must be hard raising a child, a powerful witch baby, at that, by yourself" Elijah tells her with anxiousness laced in his voice.

"Lijah, you don't need to apologize. I know the circumstances, your siblings and the supernatural world can't know about her. Not yet. What we're doing is for the safety of our child. And this child right here knows you love her very much, and I know you love me as well. Yes, raising a child is harder than it seems, as many things are, but I learn along the way. Plus it's not like you're dumping everything on me, I know you're doing all you can for our little family in this world of ours. And I love you for it. It's why I married you" She tells him, everything coming from her heart. A heart many have said is ice cold. But it's not. Not for You or Elijah. You both are her world.

Elijah's mouth agapes, not knowing how to respond to her heart touching response besides for, "I love you too" He tells her, the adoration filling his eyes.

As you doze off in your Dada's lap, your parents lean in for another kiss. This world may not be safe for you to live in, but they will protect you at all costs.

[riicahr]

Hey, have you ever drawn/thought of a Lloyd x Nemari kid? Like a next gen sort of

I did have some basic ideas before, but I haven't finalized them yet. So, here are some first concepts of their kids! Names, as well as some design may change again.

Ichiro, the first born.

A quiet, shy but sweet kid. He often observes and analyzes situations, rarely going for confrontation.

Similar to Nemari, he discovered his shapeshifting ability fairly early. Though, he had a bit more control of it than his mother.

Wanting to have a similarity with her, he kept his wings in human form as well, despite not being able to fly with them just yet.

"Powers yet uncertain" means I haven't decided yet if he will also learn magic spells like Nemari or resume to usual Ninja combat weapons.

Nymeria, the second born.

A bit of a moody one, but she's passionate and has a good heart. Despite being 4 years younger than her brother, she always stands up for him and wants to be by his side.

When Ichiro is spending time with Nemari for dragon 'training', Nym can get a bit jealous and feels casted out, as she has not inherited any dragon features or abilities. This frustration has led to severe outbursts that may or may not have resulted in an Oni transformation. She doesn't remember it though.

After a long debate, Lloyd has reached out to Garmadon, in order to seek advice how to control the oni form (since he himself isn't the best at mastering that, let's be real).

When her brother and mother are away, she spends the time with Lloyd, who is usually on the training course or in the library. She often begs him to teach her combat moves or to learn how to use a weapon.

First time I've drawn them, they're so precious ♡

[bullyhunter--69]

Sometimes the truth isn't that scary, huh? (Jack Kline x Reader)

Summary: During a training mission for Jack, a witch decided to hit you with the goofiest spell ever. How will you keep your mouth shut when you're holding the biggest secret you've ever had from everyone in your group? Good luck!!

Warnings: cussing, angry Dean, crying, self-doubt, miscommunication that gets resolved

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for literally years, so I figured I would dust it off. That being said, excuse any of the grammar errors because I did write this like 5 years ago.

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

With struggling breaths, your feet mimicked the pounding of your heart against your ribcage with every heavy stride you took. The faster you ran, the more you sweat, maybe this spell might wear off sooner... But that wasn’t the case.

It was supposed to be a simple hunt with Sam, Dean, and Jack. It was an introductory mission for Jack, so none of you guys had your guards up quite as much as normal for things like witches, because that wasn’t part of the case you thought you had. Well, you were all wrong.

Long story short, the filthy witch had shown up and cast a spell on you when your back was turned. It wasn’t painful, or even life-threatening, but it had you running for the hills as soon as all four of you had taken control of the situation and gotten out of that haunted house. It was a spell you never wanted to be cast on you, if you had to pick one, because it was a truth spell. Not only was everything that came out of your mouth blunt and honest with absolutely zero filter, but anything that crossed your mind was said without nearly a second thought. It felt as if you were throwing up your words, fighting with everything you had to keep them in.

See, this typically wouldn’t be an issue… If you weren’t hiding something from all three of the men you were currently hunting with, and the one you were supposed to be meeting back up with at the hotel room. Even though this was going to be a simple mission, the information that was being gathered was also important for Castiel to know, so he was waiting for the four of you to return. Little did he know, the others would be returning without you, or so you thought.

You had gotten out of the house first without a word to the boys and took off. It was what you felt to be the best thing to do in this situation, but you didn’t know Jack was going to try and follow you.

You had been running as fast as you could for what felt like hours, but it was really only about 10 minutes. As you stopped to lean down next to a tree, catch your breath, and grab your water bottle from your bag, a voice from just a few feet behind you spoke up.

“(Y/N)?”

The main person out of the four guys you were hiding from just so happened to be the one who both followed and caught up with you… shit.

You spun on your feet and stumbled back against the tree you had previously been leaning against with a heavy breath.

“Jack, get out of here now, leave me alone.”

His eyes, swirling with worry and hurt, were focused on you heavily.

“With this stupid ass spell on me, I don’t want to be around you. It’s dangerous…”

You were starting to struggle with your words, trying your absolute damnedest to push down and not think about your secret. Your teeth were gritting together, your hand slamming up to cover your lips. The fight was obvious in your tone but Jack had no idea what the fight was even against.

You and Jack were best friends. Ever since the beginning, you were one of the only people who did trust him. It might have taken you a few months of being around each other nearly every day in the bunker, but he learned to lean on you in times of need. When Dean wasn’t willing to work with him on “normal” things Jack hadn’t gotten the hang of yet, or when Castiel was away for god knows how long, you were there. You showed him that when things are scary, you don’t have to be alone. Nobody has to face scary things alone. Jack learned that from you… yet you’re scared now, so why are you running from him?

Jack could tell with how your face was drained of its typical beautiful color, how the sparkle your eyes held wasn’t there, and how the hands that were both holding your mouth shut and reaching for your water bottle were shaking, you were scared. Very, very scared.

“You’re scared. You told me we don’t face scary stuff alone… That’s why we go on hunts together and-”

It was too much. His words, the desperate look in his eyes, the way he softly reached out to you the way you did the first time you reached out to him when he finally trusted you with his emotions… You couldn’t take it.

So you ran.

See, you felt scared for good reason. The absolute mountain of this secret you held in your chest was near soul-crushing to hold in on a normal day, but right now? You couldn’t breathe. Jack's voice sounded off through the forest behind you as you hyperventilated, lungs burning and feet aching. He couldn’t find out about the admiration you held for him or the thoughts you had. How his tooth-rotting sweet smile and stunning eyes drove you wild. How he invaded your dreams every night and how you worried about him every second he wasn’t within 5 feet of you. How you have to leave the room just to keep yourself from strangling Dean when he gets drunk and starts ranting about babysitting Jack. 

You loved Jack with every single fiber of your being and more. 

The words started flying out of your mouth with no control. About how much you love him and about how you want to protect him for all eternity. The words tasted bitter and burned your tongue as if you were speaking sin itself, but only because they were laced with fear. An unfiltered stream of worry and doubt, how he would hate you if he found out, about how Sam and Dean would react if they found out, and what about Castiel?

Your pace was halted to a startling end as you ran straight into… Castiel?

“Mother fucker, why can’t you guys leave me alone? Jack can’t know I love him!”

Scrambling back in the leaves and trigs on the ground you had fallen into, you covered your mouth again, but it was no use.

“(Y/N), it’s okay, you don’t have to run from me.” Castiel's voice, low and rough as always, followed behind you as you fumbled to arise. You didn’t know how he got here, but it was probably because of Dean telling him about how you up and ran, and how Jack followed. “Stupid ass Dean, why couldn’t he have just shut up for once?”

Castiel clasped your shoulders firmly as he gently turned you in the leaves to sit down facing him. You continued to babble on and on about how Jack was going to catch up, how you were going to strangle Dean, and how you were so scared. You were terrified of Jack knowing your feelings and hating you for it, even though you would understand and still love him forever.

A sigh was heard from Castiel as he placed his hand atop your head and ran his thumb across your forehead. Within seconds, the taste in your mouth was gone, and your words slowed to a stop. Even though your heart was still going a million miles an hour and your cheeks were drenched with hot tears, you were cured. Castiel took the spell away, healing you from its effects. 

“I told you that you didn’t have to run. The spell is gone.” He stated, still gruff and calm as he checked you over for any other ailments. Castiel always tended to you as a father would his own child. He might not have the best understanding of humans but he was always there for you. Other than some dirt on your jeans, you were deemed fixed in his eyes, and he stood. Castiel held his hands out to help you up as you stared up at him, stunned and confused. “Castiel… You won’t tell Jack, will you?” Your voice was quiet as it shook with uncertainty. His eyes flickered to the trees behind you for a second before falling back down to meet yours as he hoisted you up from the ground. Your body tensed up as your eyes widened. A wordless exchange went on between you and Castiel for a split second before you took off running again. Jack was right behind you, and by the look Castiel had given you, he was there long enough to witness the interaction the two of you had just had.

This third round of running lasted maybe 10 seconds before Jack was in front of you, his arms around you so you couldn’t escape again. The feeling of his warm embrace mixed with the smell of his jacket, which was dusted in his sweet orange blossom and rich vanilla cologne, that your face was shoved into finally did the trick to snub out the flame that was burning in your chest- extinguishing any drive you had to run further from him. Jack had already heard the conversation between you and Castiel, so there was no point in hiding it anymore, even if you weren’t happy with it. 

Jack's hands rested gently around you, one on your lower back and one around the base of your neck. Slender fingers thread themselves through your hair and capture the thick material of your jacket, holding your head to his chest and his torso against your own. “Breathe with me, it’s okay..” Jack was bringing back the same technique you would use during his panic attacks- breathe in for three seconds, hold for five seconds, breathe out for three more. Even though he had heard the entire interaction you and Castiel had, and he had so many questions, he knew you just needed to calm down right now. 

As you were matching your breath with his, Jack was surveying the woods behind you. He could hear a set of heavy footsteps in the distance, crunching leaves and sticks at a rushed pace. Dean and Sam were catching up with them and Jack knew that was the last thing you needed right now. Shooting a look and a nod towards Castiel, the angel snapped his fingers and disappeared to go deal with the boys, probably planning to take them back to the motel and give them whatever explination will subdew them the best he can considering their little sister just off and ran, followed by the newbie of the group.

With that taken care of and your heart returning to a steady pace, Jack lowered both of you down onto the forest floor. You had given up the fight long ago and were exhausted, so you let Jack do as he pleased. His eyes were still clouded with fear, uncertainty, and concern as they darted around your features. “Why did you run from me?” The tone of his voice pulled at your heart strings, ripping them to pieces. You knew you had hurt him and even betrayed the bond you two had formed. “Jack, I just.. It’s stupid, I know, but you have to understand where I was coming from.” Finally facing your fears, you sighed. You didn’t really have a choice anymore, huh?

Pulling your flannel sleeves down over your hands to fidget with as you found a pretty leaf on the ground to center your gaze on, you dug deep to find the right words to hopefully salvage what the two of you had and just go back to normal.

“Ever since you opened your heart to me and let down the walls that you put up, I just saw something different in you. Everyone thought you were this strong bad guy that just wanted to follow in his fathers footsteps, but you showed me something different. They saw the Jack that was born from hate, but you gifted me the Jack that was born to love. The Jack that loves Christmas and butterflies and stupid cat videos.” Jack's right hand came up to rub your shoulder gently while his left hand rested upon yours. A soft blush danced up his neck and onto his cheeks.

“I grew up seeing men who liked to be tough and strong and never show any vulnerability. I was taught that emotions lead to mistakes. Dean was the big brother who never understood and thought emotions were for the weak, and Sam was the big brother who would just lean into facts more. Yeah, they were there for me, but never for love. Dean had a different girl every other week and Sam never got any...” Even with the tears pooling in the corners of your eyes again, you managed to squeeze a giggle out at the thought of Sam never getting any action. Jack moved the hand that was on your shoulder up to your cheek, gently positioning your gaze to meet his.

“And you just.. You trust me so much. You tell me that I mean so much to you and that I help you more than any of the boys. I never want to lose that. I would rather bury my feelings forever and risk you going off into the world and finding someone else to fall in love with than you never trusting me again. I don’t want you thinking I’m only nice to you because I wish we could be together. I just want you to be happy.” Jack's eyes, still clouded with a tone you couldn’t place your finger on, stared deep into your soul. His thumb swiped at the tears that ran down your cheek as he sighed. 

What you didn’t know was that Jack had a very interesting conversation with Sam a few weeks ago about this exact conversation topic- about what the word love means. What started as Jack asking Sam about the girl he heard Dean telling he loved turned into a crash course on dating and what it means for different people. Some people date just to fill a void, some people date to get laid, and some people date because the person they found is truly just that special. It started making Jack wonder… were his feelings towards you romantic? And, because Jack doesn’t understand the social etiquette around keeping a crush a secret and not telling your crush's older brother you want to be with them forever, he spilled the beans. This led to Sam, Jack, and Castiel all sitting in a circle as they coached the younger boy through his feelings, which also led to everyone taking an oath not to reveal to you or Dean what was going on. 

Jack's bangs blew slightly in the wind, giving more light to his eyes as he took a hesitant breath. “I don’t like that you kept all of this a secret, you always told me that you would be here for me, and I wanted to do the same for you.. We swore to share big feelings before they got too big.” Guilt swarmed in your ribs and surrounded your lungs as he tilted your chin up and closer to his face. You swore on every being you’ve ever met that you would take off running and never stop if Jack didn’t wish to be in your life anymore. “Every time we go on a hunt together and we face a new monster I’ve never fought against before, I remember your voice. I think about the nights you let me come into your room when the voices get too loud or when the feelings get too big. If I leave the bunker, I'll always look for you when I get back.. I think about sharing my day with you and making dinner with you.. I just think about you, like you do me.” 

Your eyes widened at the infliction of his last sentence and the knowing gaze he was giving you. Not only did he understand what you felt, but he felt it right alongside you. A soft blush started to rise, starting at your jawline and rising to your cheekbones. It radiated warmth under the thumb that was still resting on your face. “No, Jack, I don’t think about you like I do my brothers or Cas… You realize that, right?”

His lips turned up into that goofy sweet smile that he always wore the second you walked into any room he was in, and he nodded gently. You could practically see it in his eyes, the excitement of just thinking about how you make him feel. The guilt that had tried to make its home in your chest was swiftly kicked out by none other than the butterflies that had gotten you in this predicament in the first place. Jack took a deep breath and leaned closer to you, noses brushing against each other.

  “And do you realize that I’ve loved you for months?”

There it was, the final nail in the coffin. His gentle, soft, quiet voice mixed with the cool October breeze against your back and the warmth of his body oh so close to you struck a chord in you that you thought had grown old and dusty. The eye contact the two of you had held for the last few minutes was broken by Jack's eyes flickering down to your lips for a split second, followed by his own blush strengthening, somehow brighter and hotter than your own. You couldn't help the giddy giggle that escaped as your arms found their way around his neck, one hand playing with the soft tufts of his hair.

“You did always tell me the truth isn’t that scary, remember?” Jack whispered to you as you rolled your eyes. “I just didn’t wanna lose my boy, I also always tell you how special you are to me.” With a sweet laugh from Jack and the sun starting to set through the tree branches around you both, you figured now was as good a time as any. Knowing he didn’t have a lick of experience in this field, you mumbled to him softly. “Trust me, okay?”

Jack nodded softly as your hand slithered deeper into his hair and guided his lips to yours. Gentle, soft, and sweet was how his lips felt, tasting faintly of the peppermint lip balm you had lent to him that morning. The kiss was short, but it was everything you had dreamt about. Pulling apart, Jack's smile was bigger than you had ever seen before. “You’re perfect.” He blurted out, face still beet red. Your laugh filled the surrounding area, pulling him into a tight embrace. “Thank you. You’ll have all the time in the world to tell me that when we get back to the motel, okay? Let's go.”

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

As you opened up the door to the dingy little motel room that the 5 of you were holding your base in for the night, you were welcomed by what you were dreading the whole walk home. A frustrated Sam, a pissed off and loud Dean, and a defeated Castiel. Cas sat in the chair in the corner while Sam was taking up the desk chair and Dean paced around the room yelling about lord knows what. As soon as you had one foot in the door, the room went silent and Dean was instantly pulling you in, leaving Jack in the entryway. 

“Now what fucking bright idea do you think running off by yourself into the middle of the woods is? And to stay there for over an hour with HIM?” Your face deadpanned as you looked over to Sam and Castiel for help, only to be met with them both holding their hands up as a surrender. Jack slowly crept in and shut the door behind himself, starting to sweat nervously. “Not only do you run away and not tell us where you're at or what you're even doing, but you send the angel to teleport us back here? You're unbelievable.” Dean's voice was stern and gruff as he rubbed his temples. 

“I had nothing to do with any of this, Dean. It's not my fault that bimbo of a witch put a target on my back and just had to hit me with her spell. Jack and Cas were the ones who actually helped me.” You sighed as you stripped your outer layers off, now down to your jeans and just a t-shirt. “Yeah, well, you ran off before either of us even realized you had been hit with something. I had to learn from Castiel that you got hit by the stupidest spell in the book, too. You ran because you got hit with some pussy ass truth spell?”

By this point, Jack had crept his way over to the other two men in the room, making sure Dean's back was to him before he gave them both a thumbs up.

“Yeah, Dean, I did run because I got hit with a truth spell.” You sighed as you grabbed your night clothes and your shower bag. The way you guys did motel rooms when on missions was usually two separate rooms– one for you and Dean, the other for Sam and Jack. Tonight though? Dean was pissing you off and you had a differnet… incentive to switch roommates. 

“Jack, come on. You're gonna be in my room tonight. Miss prissy pants himself can room with Sam since he's soooooo mad at me.” Sam's eyes shot open wide, and he leaped onto his feet. “Woah woah woah now, I don't think that's the best idea.” Before Sam could even finish his sentence and Dean could start his own, you had Jack's hand in yours, and you were running out the door to the room next door, already locked in by the time both men could reach for the handle. Ignoring the shaking of the door and the yelling from your older brothers, you took Jack's hands in your own with a giggle. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other nervously. “Is Dean mad at me?”

“No, if anything he’s mad at me and Sam just doesn’t wanna deal with his bitching tonight. Neither of them know, though, so we’ll be okay. I’ll tell them when I tell them.” 

“Haha yeah..” Jack nervously chuckled as he brought his hand to your waist. Sometimes the truth isn’t that scary, but yours and Dean's reactions might scare him just a bit. 

[lazylattedgleam]

Request:

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Prelude to a New Tomorrow

(Word count: ~3.2k)

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

“If I gift you a Yellow Pansy each day…would you understand how often I think of you?”

(Current: The art of simplicity-004)

(Previous: Sylus Archives(Article: I)-003)

(Storymode control buttons)

(Next: 004a: …)

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Over these four months, the friendship that you two had been building was blooming ever so beautifully…it made you feel great, it was something that finally finally provided yourself enough closure that you’ve made tremendous progress with tackling with your past heartbreak. It made you value the friendships that you possessed, more than anything. You felt grateful to life for introducing him…

Your meet-ups weren’t restricted to the coffee house anymore…you’d gone to many of Linkon’s famous places, like Azure Square, Stellar Park, and many more…You’ve started taking your meds and supplements on time again, began to take better care of yourself…often times you’d ponder back upon the times where you felt like everything was lost and you were left all alone in the void and pain…you never truly understood the value of platonic love in the life of individuals, but now you do…it came to your life in the form of true amity…Your friends, be it old or new, have helped you make progress, and where you stood now. That being said of course you didn’t completely forget about the past, but you learnt to live alongside it, accepting it…you finally felt alright…

….

It was a Sunday evening, the two of you were strolling around Stellar Park, the gentle breeze hitting your features, easing a soothing sensation of peace to your demeanour…you had the overwhelming urge to invite him to your place and listen to songs together in peace…

Sylus’s arrival into your life has added an essence of music in your otherwise flat story…you couldn’t explain it to yourself why or how…but certain songs that you would play from your playlist…listening alone, maybe at home, work or perhaps even at the coffee shop, you could imagine sitting with him, or chatting with him or just being in his presence while doing so…it was a strange sensation but it brought you calmness…calmness which you’ve been yearning for too long now…

“Is there something on my face?”

“Hmm?”

“You were staring.”

“Oh! Uh sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…I was just lost in thought…”

“Mhm.”

“Skye”

“Hmm?”

“Can we get some ice cream?”

“Sure why not.”, he bought two ice cream cones from a nearby cart, heading back towards you…

It amazed you how quickly he’d mastered the learning of your favorite ice cream flavor…well it being among the many of your favorites that he’s mastered learning about…

“…”

“…”

“…”

“I have iron-deficiency anaemia”, you blurt out…umm girl why? Anyways you don’t know why���

He looked at, confusion filled behind his eyes, mixed with the seasoning of worry and…something you couldn’t quite decipher…

“I don’t know why Skye…I just…I wanted to…maybe it’s the weather or the ice creams or the lights or the stars or the breeze or whatnot…I wanted to…”, the part of the sentence which you couldn’t complete was that you felt safe…you felt really safe and comfortable…

He held your free hand in his…and smiled…it was so soft, so warm…it made you feel all tingly and special…

“Thank you…”

You nod…you didn’t know if it was a spell that your friendship had casted upon you, but you are more vocal…vocal with your feelings, than you ever have been in the past…especially when you used to be with…

Maybe it was just because you couldn’t write anymore…you needed to have one passageway for the free flowing of your emotions…

Yet on the other hand, there were moments like right now…when the complete contrary would take place. The two of you would barely exchange words, yet the silence would range through various emotions…

…..

The next day at work, you were feeling more refreshed than ever, a smile on your face that was genuine while you hummed tunes in your head, as you did your job…

Raya looked in your direction from the Yellow Pansies section, a small smile struck her face too, these few months you’ve been making impressive progress and were finally on the verge of becoming truly you again…what more could she wish for as your best friend…she loved you, ever so dearly, she always wanted the best for you…

An idea struck her mind as she carried a yellow pansy in her hand walking over to you at the front desk, twirling the small flower’s soft petals against your cheek…while your fingers were effortlessly gliding over the computer keys, following their own rhythm, as you were entering in the records of the ongoing purchases and shipments to come…it was a slow day…yet sales went on efficiently…

“You know what they say? A yellow pansy symbolises that someone might be/is thinking about you~ or in this case, maybe you are thinking of someone~”,

She hands you over the flower, as you gently take it and swirl it around in your fingers…it was so delicate to touch, so pretty to look at…the grin on your face widened…

Were you thinking of—

“Soooo who’s the mystery that had been spiralling all across your brain, hmm? Who’s all this humming and rhythms for?”

“Shut up.”, you giggle as you place the pansy upon the ridge where your right ear and hair met.

“No way you have to tell meeeeeee!”

“Hushhhhh!”

“Cmooooon!”

“No—”

Just then a customer came in, the two of you looked at each other and greeted them in politely like always…

“Yes Ma’am, how may we help you?”

….

By the time you got off of work, it was around 11:00…it was too late, especially for Monday…well it all happened because the since evening you were experiencing rush hour, plus certain customers were rowdy, had to be kicked out…messed up the shop, though thankfully it was all minor…so yep basically arranging and rearranging everything took time for all of you, aaaaand hence the late…

The streets had grown almost fully empty, with a few people here and there… a cold breeze came in, it was chilly it gave you goosebumps…you hated this sort of scenario…

You tried to wander your mind off of unwanted thoughts which started to preoccupy your mind—

*ping!*

You take out your phone and your face instantly lights up.

SY-SY!

SY-SY!: Long day?

You: Yes ughh! I just got off of work like I’m exhausted, plus on top of that, some customers were being rowdy, messed up stuff here and there thankfully it was all minor damage…also not forgetting rush hour!!

You: I’m so happy now that you texted :DD

SY-SY!: Hmm. If you ever want to teach them a nice lesson, I’m here. All I need are the names. Even the cctv footage’s would do.

You: Oh dear Sylus don’t annihilate them off of the face of the Earth!

SY-SY!: Of course not. Just a lesson well taught…and making sure that it was well learnt too

SY-SY!: *nodding crow sticker*

You: I can sense the ominous tone from all the way here TT~TT

You giggle as you walk towards your apartment.

You: Heading towards my apt rn—WAIT I TOTALLY FORGOT! HOW DID YOU KNOW I HAD A LONG DAY AT WORK, ARE YOU SPYING ON ME HMMMMMMMM?

SY-SY!: …

SY-SY!: You didn’t know? I planted a tracker inside the ice cream we had yesterday. Now it’s inside your stomach, hence I know your every move.

SY-SY!: I’m omnipresent.

You: NOT FUNNY SY I JSUT JUMPED AND SHRIEKED, I FEel BAD FOR MU NEIGHBOURS!

SY-SY!: *shrugging crow sticker*

You: SYLUS! IM REALLY FREAKING OUT RN! DID YOU REALLY DO IT? IS THAT WHY THE ICE CREAM HAD A METALLIC AFTERTASTE TO IT!”?

You: OI! ANSWER ME! (Read: 11:30 p.m.)

You: *rabbit aggressively thumping sticker* (Read: 11:31 p.m.)

You: I CAN SEE YOU READING ALL MY MWSAAVES! (Read: 11:31 p.m.)

You: SYLUS! (Read: 11:33 p.m.)

You: SLUES! (Read: 11:33 p.m.)

You: SULUS! (Read: 11:34 p.m.)

You: SHYLOCK! (Read: 11:34 p.m.)

SY-SY!: Make more variations of my name and I might just appear at your front door sweetheart~

You: AH! THATS IT IM NOT TWLKING WITH YOU ANYMORE! (Read: 11:35 p.m.)

You didn’t even freshen up as you plopped onto your couch, fingers violently tapping onto your phone’s screen, as you dialled his number.

*ring…ring…ring…*

*click!*

“YOU! ANSWER ME TELL ME THE TRUTH.”

“What’s the point the deed is over.”

“SYLUS I AM SERIOUSLY SHITTY TERRIFIED RIGHT NOW, AND I WILL CRY!”

“*sighs* I’m sorry I was just messing with you.”

“…Should I trust you…?”

“Yes…No…Maybe so…”

“SYLUS!”

“Okay okay, I really apologise from deep within my hearts secret chambers… *he chuckles in that husky, fine-wine voice of his…ugh this man…*”

“So you were actually messing with me?”

“Mhm.”

“How do I believe you?”

“Well, a leap of faith.”

“I hate you.”

“Mhm.”

“…”

“Tell me the real truth, how’d you know I got off late?”

“…It’s obvious, you text me everytime you reach and get off of work.”

“Mondays, Tuesdays you get out at around 09:00-10:00 usually. Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays are hectic, and calculating up the rush hours experienced, it takes you around 11:00, like today…Thursdays you leave early so maybe earliest by 08:00, and Sundays are your day-offs.”

“…”

“…”

“Woah…it’s like you have my schedule memorised…”

“That is because I do.”

Something struck the chord of your chest, emanating out a gentle humming tune…your bpm rose…

“…”

“…”

“You should freshen up now…I know you haven’t since you were too traumatised from earlier.”

“Did you have dinner? You have to take your medicines and supplements too”

You groaned at the memory, it was a pain to do this everyday…

“Yeah…yes I will…I have leftovers from yesterday, will heat em up and have…”

“Mhm.”

“How about you Sy? Did you have dinner? Or well breakfast according to your schedule…”

“All done.”

“…”

“…”

“Sy…”

“Hmm?”

“…”

“…”

You softly let out a “nevermind” from your lips…it was as soft as a whisper which upon falling became one with the air, hence he couldn’t hear…

“I’ll hang up now Sy…you promise you truthfully didn’t put any chip inside of me…?”

He could tell the fear and nervousness in your tone…maybe he’d taken it too far…he had learnt how easily scared you could get which made you really agitated.

He spoke with a gentle tone…

“I would never.”

*click*

….

SY-SY!

You: Hi! You’re prolly sleeping since it’s noon…and you sleep during the day, work at night bla bla bla…but umm…

You: Do you wanna meet up on Thursday pretty please? Destiny Cafe? I’m bored out of my mind :p

Sending the message, you continue having your lunch.

“Sooooo who’s this mystery person, that’s been occupying your mind all the time these days? ‘Pansy’ telling me?”

“Okay first of all that was a terrible pun, secondly umm well…it’s…you remember we went to that Jameson Auction, the big rich one for delivering the bouquets months ago?”

“…”

“…”

“YOU BEFRIENDED SOMEONE FROM THE N109 ZONE?! GIRL DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH—”

“See this is why I wasn’t telling you—stop shouting in my ear! Plus you’re getting spit all over my food!”

She took a deep breath in…

“You know you could get k*dnapped or worse…”

“I know I know! But he’s not like that believe you me! He’s sophisticated, he’s nice he’s sweet—”

“Uh huh uh huh, that’s what they all say…and then one day boom you’re gone…”

“Look Ray even I’m terrified like shit sometimes…but I trust him…I really really do…”

“And how long have you known him?”

“…4 months and more I guess…”

“How can you trust someone you’ve known only for that little duration?!”

“Look I ugh! I just don’t know okay? I just do! I have this immensely strong gut feeling…and if he wanted to harm me, he would’ve by now, he’s had plenty of opportunities…”

“…”

“I know you’re worried about me…but trust me when I say this Ray…you have seen me make progress right? It’s evident upon my features right? I mean you even say that yourself…and I’m finally really happy after a long time Ray…I don’t want anything bad to happen to this friendship…”

“…”

“…”

“Just be careful…is all I have to say…and don’t hesitate to call the police, the second you see something’s fishy…”

“Mhm..”

“So what’s his name? And what does he do, lemme guess he’s a dru—”

“NO! oof! Listen! His name is Skye and—”

“That’s a bird’s name…”, she said fully judgemental

You nod, pointing your finger onto the counter, “Now _that_ I agree with. He’s the human version of a literal crow.”

“…”

“So he steals stuff he’s a thief?”

“Where’s that coming fro—”

“I mean you just said yourself, he is the epitome of ‘if crows were humans’…and we know the behaviours of crows, always attracted to shiny things…how many jewelleries of yours are missing?”

You were frustrated and a bit mad, “Hey! He’s not any of that okay?! Cmon! He’s a very successful business man!”

“He’s in the fruit selling business and he’s a very successful, fruit vendor!”, you added blurting out. Ooo you were angy…

You huff and puff, when you notice the smirk on her face…you narrow your eyes, biting onto your sandwich… “What…?”

“Do I smell adoration~”

“RAY!”

“CMON IS IT? IS IT? IS IT? You grew all defensive!”

“NO! We’re just friends!”, your face grew dark crimson…

“….plus however much time may have passed…I’m still recovering Ray…I’m still not completely over Zayne…and I don’t think I’m ready for any feelings towards anyone…”, you sighed, there was a subtle sting around your chest but your brain ignored it…

She nodded, wrapping her arms around you… “I know…I know…and I’m proud of how much progress you’ve made…I’m sorry I shouldn’t have teased you like that…but (Name)…maybe try to check for possible cues given by your heart too?”

….

…“No way in heck he had 5 million from just fruit business!”

Uh oh…she didn’t forget the bid he raised, well it was partially your fault too you kept reminding her that night…

“Well fruits are very popular! And he has the freshest of the fresh of each stack! I mean like us!”

“…Babe none of us would ever go close to making that amount, even if we calculated our individual wages of ten years…”

“It’s…a family business…”

“…Well then I might have to see the shop sometime…”

“…sure”

She looked at you, as you finished locking up the shop. Cupping your face gently… “Look hon, I love you and hence I care for you the most, just…be safe and careful okay?”

You nod…placing your palms on top of her hands… “I promise…”

You check your phone as you walked out the shop after telling your goodbyes to Raya…

SY-SY!

You: Hi! You’re prolly sleeping since it’s noon…and you sleep during the day, work at night bla bla bla…but umm…

You: Do you wanna meet up on Thursday pretty please? Destiny Cafe? I’m bored out of my mind :p (Delivered: 02:07 p.m.)

Your face falls slightly…

‘Huh…he hasn’t replied yet…must be busy…’, you thought completely ignoring the weird sensation you felt suddenly surge through your body…

….

Thursday soon arrives, you’ve heard nothing from Sylus since Tuesday…

Currently after work sitting at Destiny Cafe, in the hopes that he’d surprise you with a cameo appearance…

An hour passed, your second cup of Boba too had finished, the freshly baked star cookies and the Americano-Large, you’d ordered for him, had long gotten cold to even touch…

Your worry started to grow, what if he was hurt or what if some unpleasant situation arrived or what if he was taken hostage or—

Just then you felt a sudden tap on your shoulder, turning your head behind you saw a soft smile on his face as he subtly waved at you…

Your face lit up, as if the darkness that once shrouded your countenance had been long forgotten upon his arrival. You felt giddy with glee.

“Skye!”

“Miss me?”

“Yeah! Why didn’t you text back? I was worried sick, I thought you’d been taken hostage or something…”

He gave out his iconic deep husky chuckle, as he sat opposite to you, facing you, taking a cookie in his mouth, and a sip of his drink.

“Wait hey they’ve gotten cold…”

“Doesn’t mean they’re any less delicious. Besides you ordered them for me, it’d be a shame to let them go to waste.”

“…”

“Were you really that worried about me sweetheart~?”

“Yeah duh!”

“Well to ease your worries, look, I’m in tip-top shape. And don’t worry, anyone would think their upon their entire lifetime, before even having the thought directly aiming for me.”

“Hmm…”, you wanted to ask him…but you didn’t want to seem like a bother…

He’d sensed your uneasiness…like always, so he continued.

“I had some things that needed to be taken care of. It’s confidential.”

“Uh oh how many people did you put to sleep forever…”

“Do you really think that’s all I am ever capable of?”

“No I—”

“…”

“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to offend you I just I got really worried and umm down that you hadn’t texted back…I enjoy talking to you a lot Sy…I’m so sorry…”

He sighed, reaching out for your hand…

“Mhm…I know…so do I…”

You both sat like that for sometime…basking in your silence…as you stared out the window, it was a cloudy evening…maybe it’s gonna rain soon…

“And you?”

“Hmm?”, you diverted your gaze back at him…

“You got off of work early.”

“Oh yeah…things were taken care of and well there was no load today sooo…I thought I’d get out early today…of course I talked to Mrs. Li before and she allowed…besides Ray said she’d handle it…”

“Oh that reminds me! I still have yet to introduce you to Raya! When do you wanna meet her? Pleeeeeaaaase want to meet her…”, you spoke excitement reeling off of your posture. He smiled as he replied,

“Any day you would prefer.”

“Ok then! Next week, Thursday, come over during closing time? Well that is if you’re free…”

“Sure.”

You grinned, as your gaze went back outside…it was to be raining soon, you can’t let him go off like that, not when your apartment was only a few walks away…besides…you want to spend some more alone time with him…

All you need now is to gather up the courage and ask…Cmon you can do it girl…

“Ahem…umm…Skye…”

“Mhm?”

“Well you see it’s gonna be raining soon and umm I’d hate for you to go in the rain when my apartment is only just a few walks away plus you have no umbrella—”

“I have my bike.”

“…way to ruin it I hate you.”, he laughed out,

“Okay okay I apologise, do go on”

“…”

“I am sincerely and deeply sorry and regretful of the choices that I had put forth. The following mistake shall not ever be repeated again in the future.”

“Pffft…so yes…what I was gonna ask was that umm…do you…well do you want to come over to mine?”, there you did it, ripped the bandaid off!

“I would love to.”

…

“Did you already—”

“No.”

“Or maybe—”

“No.”

“What if—”

“No.”

…

You had tidied up your bed, to make space for the both of you. You’d even made him freshen up after you in the bathroom, where he almost knocked down your shampoos and soaps and other necessities, bonking his head onto the shelves…

“What the fuck?”, you rush inside the bathroom—

“WOAH LOCK THE DAMN DOOR! AND CLEAN UP EVERYTHING YOU DAMN LAMPPOST!”, your face fully dark crimson as you run out, slamming the door shut…that idiot was already in a towel and he didn’t even bother to lock the door first…You heard him laugh from inside, as he locked the door.

…Later you’d even him given your pair of oversized pink hello kitty pyjamas that you owned…you never understood why, because they were enormous…and they fit him perfectly…plus of course you’d made him clean and change first, because there was no way he was getting in your bed, with his outside clothes, be it however expensive.

“Pffft…”

“I look rather lovely and elegant.”, he stared at your mirror, a subtle smirk on his face.

“Ahaha oh I wish I had a ribbon on me right now!”

“I neeeeed to take a picture!”, as you quickly fish out for your phone, opening the camera app quickly without ever waiting for his permission.

“Oh! Wait!”, you rush to your closet, taking out a small round plastic box, inside which were kept, multiple tiny clips. “You cannot say no! Now sit!”

As the both of you sat down on your bed, folding your knees, you didn’t even need to ask because before you could utter he’d let his head down, within your reach for you to fasten the clips to his hair.

You happily decorated his hair with red, yellow, pink, tiny ribbon clips which contrasted oh so silly with his silvery-white coloured hair…

“Ahhhh I will cry you look so adorable! Waaa!”, you giggled.

*click!* one with a single of him

*click!* and the other with the two of you. Sitting together knees touching, as you leaned towards him, doing a heart pose with your fingers.

“Look it came out so good!”, you grinned…but little did you notice the warm soft smile and pair of ruby eyes, examining your every animation…

Sitting down on your bed, you patted the spot next to yourself…

“Make yourself at home and comfy!”, he sat down…you were about to plop down flat when he stopped you.

“Have your medicines first.”

“Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

“Now.”

“Fine.”, you huff as you did what he said.

…

Soon you two laid down beside each other in your bed,

Lights turned off, whatever illumination was present were coming from your phone, whose screen was left on…

the pitter-patter of the rain adding to the serenity of the atmosphere, both inside and outside…

Then an idea struck your mind…

“Sy…”

“Mhm?”

“Do you like songs?”

“I think you should very well know by now…”

“No I do but…I mean you’re mostly into vintage and old fashioned genre…I have some songs which I want to make you listen as well…and right now is the perfect weather…I just want to be sure…”

“I will cherish anything you make me listen to…”

…that tugged at your heartstrings…he was really getting skilled at doing so…but you didn’t mind one bit…

“Then…”

As you reached for your EarPods…changing the bud of the right one, wiping it with the white cloth delicately, as you hand it to him…

He puts it on…

You put the left one to yours…connecting your phone with bluetooth to them…

His eyes wander your every movement, as you scroll scroll scroll and tap…

———————————————

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

(All credits, TW, Index have been mentioned on the Storymode page.)

[wolftails-funkin-arts]

A possible chance..

Sure Mallory summoned them and they betrayed him back.. But regardless, they're still Sprunkis at heart.. And it hurts to see them like this...

Weeks passed and all classics, Rayne, Marisol, Knight and even Mallory got together to cast a spell to set them free... A chance to change their point of views..

Mallory was a bit afraid.. He caused them to come here.. If anything, he should be the one to turn to stone.. But his friend, the deity of harmony and the bridge of all lands herself told him that there's always a light in every Sprunki.. They just don't know it yet..

It was difficult for every Sprunki to agree on helping the deities who destroyed their home, let alone them slowly adjusting, but so far, things were actually going smoothly.

Seavont had to make up for what she had caused, as well as fixing up her "experiments". They didn't look perfect nor exactly how they looked before, but at least she tried. Unfortunately, Seavont never knew who accidentally destroyed her old work. She has to find that out herself, though, this time, she won't capture Sprunkis as her guinea pigs anymore. That definitely changed her view on taking over the world, which includes some bonding time with Oren and Simon. ("They called me their "older sister"!~)

Broker had befriend his own long time rivals. It was tough, especially for Acid, but hey, even they won't be "close" close friends, they can at least try to get along. Turns out, there are things to love and be patient about after all.

Ravana found another passion than just causing destruction. Looks like he matured and figured out that being a deity isn't all about doing whatever you want.

Dracul returned to Scalepolis for a while, much to most of the dragon Sprunkis' dismay, but Cerberus was happy to see them again and quote, "knew they"ll come around eventually". They did offer their spot as ruler back, but they refused and told Cerberus that they were doing a good job already. Plus, they did feel a little awkward in their old home.

Neve is still learning how to control her snow and ice abilities, but soon, she discovered peace and relaxation. Maybe changing the world the way you wanted isn't so bad, after all.

As for Spectrum.. Looks like he just needed company all along. He kept a flower that was from a "very special some Sprunki" and she was teaching him that there are lot of things to cherish in Sprunktopia.

[imdead770]

anything for Luke and a daughter of hecate, ANYTHING FOR THEM......

had to do my research for this one

for context Hecate is the goddess of witchcraft, magic, ghosts, stuff like that. There's probably more but that's what I got from my one minute google search

I kept this kind of fluffy because I wanted to switch it up, I hope that's okay! If you want smut feel free to request again 🩷

Enjoy!

Luke didn't known much about your mother, most people didn't. She was one of the smaller goddesses. Well, not small, she just wasn't as well known as Athena or Aphrodite. He had heard her name a few times around camp, not thinking much of it. He didn't pay much attention to the name until he realized your own name was associated with it. Whenever you came to camp, eventually getting claimed by Hecate, he started to do his research. He started listening if one of the counselors talked about her or reading more thoroughly if he saw her name in a book. He wanted to learn more about her for one reason; to get closer to you.

Once he learned more about her, he started seeing the resemblances between the two of you. Your long, silky dark hair was exactly how some book described your mother, as well as your overall beauty. If Hecate hadn't of claimed you, it probably would have been Aphrodite. It also made sense why you and some of the Hades' kids were close, you were all connected to the dead. Another thing that made you alike, you were magical. Something about you almost made him feel as if he was put under some sort of spell. Every time you walked into a room, smiling and laughing, it was as if you enchanted him. Every time he was the cause of your laughter, he would melt, almost as if you had cursed him to fall in love with you.

He didn't know how, but your godly parent eventually came up in a conversation. And God's had he prepared for this moment.

"Yeah, she can control ghosts and magic n' all that, right?"

All of that research was worth it. The way you looked at him, your face holding one of your signature, beautiful smiles.

"Yeah... she can. How'd you know that?"

"Uh... I dunno, I've just always found her interesting."

He managed to get out that excuse, you seemed to believe it. Your smile only grew, sending butterflies into his stomach again.

As the two of you kept talking, your mother fading away and the conversation becoming more natural, he was all smiles. He was smiling for a few reasons. One being that he was proud of himself for being productive and learning about your mother. The main reason, though, was you. How your lips moved when you talked, your sing-songy voice leaving them as you joked around with him. He hadn't realized he was starring until you pointed it out.

"Luke? Are you okay? You're like zoning out or something."

"Hm?"

He forced himself to look away from your gorgeous smile, meeting your eyes. They looked stunning. The light hit them perfectly, giving them a magical glow as if your mother was casting a spell from Olympus. As if she and Aphrodite were cursing him to fall head over heels in love and not have a single say in it. Once again he was zoning out, gazing into your eyes like a lovestruck fool. He could've mustered up another excuse if he kept his mouth shut. That only confirmed his theory of being cursed.

"You have really pretty eyes, yknow.."

Shit. He didn't even mean to say that, the words just left his lips. Your mother must've hated him. He wanted to go and dive off the dock and never come back up for air. He was about to go do so until you spoke again.

"Yeah..?"

Since he had been looking down like a flustered idiot, he hadn't noticed the way your smile grew after his words. He hadn't noticed the way your eyes lit up, nor the way you were blushing yourself. Not as badly as him, but you were still blushing.

"..Yeah."

He looked back up to meet your eyes again, finally noticing how your smile became a grin. He couldn't help but mimic the expression, it was infectious.

He didn't notice how you had scooted closer, bit he did notice how you leaned in. He noticed how your beautiful eyes softly closed, and he especially noticed how your lips met his. It all happened so fast, but Gods.. it was magical.

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Lord Muzan Kibutsuji Headcanons: Power And Control (Demon Slayer)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins, and Bad Butt Biscuits! I am here with a new chapter! This one has The Original Version of Muzan as I did the Female/Genderbent Version of him! So now let's Do Muzan! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter!] 

(Disclaimer: Muzan is not yandere in canon this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional and yandere characters is fine just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are, you dirty flaky biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Thank you!) 

-Base Yandere Headcanons With Lord Muzan Kibutsuji- 

.He is a man that loves power and control and hates a lot of change.  .He does like things when they do change in his benefit. .Because if you look at him, he wears more modern clothes, has a more modern chair, and a more modern car (For the time period of the show)

.He may say he does not like change, but he does like the benefits of the modern age he is in. 

.Though the change he does not like it more the things to do with his demise, he has a fear of death. 

.He had this fear of death since he was alive and was close to death, being the first demon was not enough for him. 

.He has to conquer the sun as well. 

.He was not a good husband, as he pushed his five wives to take their own lives.  .He was not the best partner to have that was for sure as he had never felt love for anyone.    .That was until he met you, something about you consumed him. 

.He did not like the control he did not have over it or how he felt. 

.How his heart raced, how you were always on every single thought he had, how he longed to have you in his presence.  .It goes on and on and he hated it with all his being and blamed you for the lack of control you made him have. 

.Yes he would blame all these new and strange feelings on you, you must be some sort of magic user that has cast a spell on him and made him weak for a pathetic human like yourself.  .That is what he thought, at least at first.  .For at some point he could not stand being without you and you would become a prisoner in the infinity palace.  .That is right, Lord Muzan is the type of yandere to capture you/kidnap you, and keep you in a gilded cage.  .He finds himself to like your company and he likes the power he has on you.  .That you are fully dependent on him for food, company, and well anything really.  .Some days he forgets to feed you and other days he makes you beg. 

.He can be a very mocking yandere and loves the power he has over you.  .Though if you did try and hurt yourself or kill yourself to escape him, he would grab you by the throat, in a bloodthirsty enraged way.  .He learns in this moment that you are something special to him, and he is not going to let you take the easy way out and leave him. .This moment that happens will actually have him treating you better, he is less cold to you, and remember to feed you more often. 

.At this point he has learned that he cannot live without you, and he only would not have turned you into a demon yet because of the demon slayers.  .Even if he gave you a lot of his blood, you would still not be strong enough to fight off Hashiras.  .So he is not going to risk his prize being harmed or stolen from him. 

.He still has the power and control over you, he just allows you more freedoms now.  .Everyone now knows that you belong to him, so no one dares lay a hand on you, if they did well they would be slaughtered and made an example of.  .He also finds himself considering something, that you would need the best of things, if you are going to belong to the Demon King, then you must look the part.  .So he would spoil you, yes this is Muzan as a yandere for sure, once he accepts that he has a darling that is.  .Him showering you with gifts, is a way of having his ownership over you. 

.You are wearing the clothes, he thinks is nice. You have on the make-up that, he thinks you look good in, your hair is done in a way he loves. The list can go on and on. 

.But of course, Muzan is a master manipulator, so you would not know any of this.  .Muzan would have successfully tricked you into thinking that all of it is things you chose and things you liked. .And you are so deep into his mind games that you do not realize it was him pulling the strings. 

.He is the type of yandere that would mold you because he is not the type of yandere that needs to change for his darling.  .Why would he have to change, he is almost nearly perfect. 

.All he has to do is conquer the sun, and make you his spouse!  .That is all that he needs to do and then his life will be perfect.  .On a bit of a more steamy note, he would have much desire to claim you in an intimate way over and over and over.  .He will show you just a great lover, and future husband he can be. .If he did have "rivals" well let's be honest, it is laughable that they even consider themselves to be his rivals.  .No, Demon Slayer, Human, or Demon (other than himself of course) was good enough for you.  .So if someone claimed you to be theirs, they were simply erased from the world. 

.He would not confess his love, instead, he is going to just one day declare that you are his and that you were his the day he kidnapped you, you just did not know it yet. 

.You also would no longer be allowed to see family and friends, and if he deems it, he will be the only other person you ever see again.  .So you might as well as give up and accept your fate, be a good little spouse for him, and warm his bed.  .If you can do that you will get a treat, remember It does not matter if you love him right now, you will be immortal like him and then you both have all the time in the world... 

.And Muzan he will have all the power and control over you for all this time and all the time to come.  .You are his, you never had a choice. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter done! I hope you all enjoyed and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[askxigbar]

Trading abilities, huh? Well kiddo, I’m a bit biased - can’t really beat control over space, gravity, whatever you wanna call it - but.

I don’t know how familiar you are with our dear Zexion, but the kid honestly creeps me out sometimes. Not only because he hangs out with Vexen, of course, but his abilities? Pretty intense stuff.

See, the kid uses illusion magic - can make you see and feel things that aren’t actually there - including pain. Can hurt you without even touching you, now that’s creepy. Can cause quite a bit of havoc with that alone, but then you’ve got stuff like the ability to trap people or things inside that big book he’s always carrying around? Yikes.

On top of that, the kid actually has a really good spell list he knows, just needs to work on actually casting it, and his physical endurance - not that I’m wholly one to talk, hah! But those spells? Actual terrifying stuff there, honestly. So, I’d say if anyone? I’d swap abilities with him - though him learning to utilize my abilities could be just as dangerous.

Makes you wonder though...

He’s definitely not the kid we knew back in Radiant Garden these days, that’s for sure. But I sometimes wonder what happened on his end, if I’m honest. We still don’t fully understand how he came to as he did...

But I can’t think about that too long before my skin starts crawling.