amusedyan

[amusedyan]

[amusedyan]

for no reason whatsoever here’s a reminder that if you consider yourself a leftist/punk/abolitionist/anarchist/radical in any sort of way and get called into jury duty, you are to become the most square person on earth during the jury questionnaire!!!

don’t be that guy who says fuck the police in the jury questionnaire! that just gets you sent home! if you want to generate change, interact with the case and use your jury vote for good! ESPECIALLY if it’s a high profile case!

[amusedyan]

Harvard University

launched a free college course online that covers basic U.S. Government, understanding the constitution and how to recognize a dictatorship takeover.

Here is the link to the free course "We the People: Civic Engagement in a Constitutional Democracy"

https://pll.harvard.edu/course/we-people-civic-engagement-constitutional-democracy.

We understand that the current catalog of FREE COURSES at Harvard is being EXTENSIVELY EXPANDED, so you'll want to check their website from time to time to see which new courses are being added.

Government Courses | Harvard University

[amusedyan]

I am spoiling the live action Lilo & Stitch. And I am doing it up front and plainly.

Do not fucking see this movie. Do not waste your money on this. Period.

They made Nani give Lilo up to the American government. They made Nani LEAVE Hawaii and pursue being a marine biologist. They made a native Hawaiian character give up her sibling to pursue a dream that she originally did not have. This is imperialist propaganda at its FINEST.

The original fucking movie is about family staying together. It's about indigenous people being able to stay with each other and stay in their home and be together! That's the whole fucking point! Nani is Lilo's last living relative on her homeland—it is jarring, it is disgusting and disturbing that Nani would not only leave her last blood relative alone, give her up to the very government that is harming native Hawaiians TODAY, but also travel to the "mainland" for her dream!

Not to mention, Nani's actress isn't fucking Hawaiian. She's much paler in photos and real life. They fucking darkened her for this movie.

Don't even get me started on the transgender subtext of Pleakley's "human" disguise from the original movie being completely erased in favor of him being played by a regular ass white man. Jumba doesn't have his accent, they made him more villainous, and his "human" disguise is a non-fat white man—which part of his original joke, I know, is that he was bigger and was more clumsy in the movie because of his size, but to have the main shape of his character completely removed is also fucking weird.

This live action movie is a desecration to the original. I encourage you to not see it, please. Don't give Disney any of your money on this one. Just watch the original. Please just watch the original.

The new message in the live action movie is disturbing and gross.

This is one of the most disrespectful live actions I've seen and heard of. I implore you to not watch it.

[amusedyan]

No joke my mom grabbed Princess Mononoke from our video place when I was four because it had 'princess' in the title, a wolf, and it was a cartoon.

[amusedyan]

Im gonna be so real can yall actually talk about ways we can support trans women in the UK instead of giving all the attention to fucking JKR. I already know that Harry Poter sucks, I wanna know how to actually HELP people. Something something you have to love the oppressed more than you hate the oppressor

[amusedyan]

Yandere Story Idea #16:

Yandere Yandere (Fatherly) Emperor and Empress (Maternal) x Daughter! Reader:

Think about it.

I imagine that after a long line of princes, the yandere empress finally has a princess, and both parents are delighted with her, since she was the first daughter after many years of trying. Your father, the emperor, agrees that you be raised under the care of the empress (your mother).

From the moment you were born, you were never left alone for a single minute. When the Empress wasn't with you, the Emperor himself was. Your mother always made you follow her everywhere she went, as well as sharing her tastes and hobbies, since having only had princes prevented her from doing that. You had a close mother-daughter relationship, and with your father it was something more or less similar.

As you grow up, your parents become more overprotective of you, so much so that they even limit your contact with your older brothers, the princes. Not only would they give you nice gifts, but the best teachers, doctors and servants would be at your disposal (even better than those of your older brothers), although your brothers would probably be jealous of you.

They wouldn't let you walk alone for even a second.

If your father has a harem of consorts and concubines (like other emperors), then the empress will be more paranoid about you, since even though princesses do not inherit the throne, she knows that her enemies can harm you.

Once, when you were five years old, a maid broke a porcelain doll that your father had given you after returning from one of his trips. Unfortunately for that maid, the emperor was returning with you just when the doll broke, so he saw it and got SO angry that he asked his butler to take you out to the garden for a walk, so that you wouldn't see your father the emperor whip the poor maid to death. All this because he considered that maid to be reckless in daring to do that to your things, even if it had been an accident.

Even if more princesses were born, you were the object of your parents' overprotection and adoration.

Even your older brothers didn't dare to do anything bad to you. Once a new maid spoke ill of you (even though you hadn't done anything), and the empress herself slapped her in the face.

They hired servants who document your EVERY move.

The Emperor adores you so much that he will delay any kind of engagement or marriage alliance. He will reject any proposal, and silence anyone who mentions the subject. He does not want you away from him.

If it were up to them, you would stay locked in your room all the time so that nothing would hurt you, and they would tell you that they do everything for your own good.

You were punished by being locked up for an indefinite period of time, followed by the classic punishment of writing the same sentence repeatedly for a long time.

No trying to escape from the palace. The emperor would have experienced guards and servants around you to prevent that.

And if you do get married, then your parents will make sure that you have no choice but to live near the palace, no matter what.

They would be capable of killing if something happens to you.

If you fall ill, they will make sure you rest and eat well, even if it is against your will. If you were to die, they would both go mad with grief, especially the empress.

If you were to die, they would use your chambers as a sanctuary to you, where they would go to pray for you, and in the process force EVERYONE to mourn you.

Your emperor father would not let you have any contact with his family, as there is a power struggle going on where even his own brothers, cousins ​​and uncles could be his enemies and would do ANYTHING to get the throne; even if that includes kidnapping or killing you just because you are the emperor's daughter. Your mother would know this, and every time her brothers-in-law come, she will make you stay with her in the central palace.

With the Empress's family it's a different story, since there are no problems of inheritance of the throne, things are easier unless there is someone who tries to hurt you or pressure you like they do with your mother.

-The End.

What do you think?

[amusedyan]

[amusedyan]

marauders fans are so much worse than garden variety hp fans bc they've deluded themselves into having a superiority complex. "ackshually we don't support jkr and our fandom has queer & poc representation" girl...your fandom is the worst mass delusion since the dancing plague of 1518, your "representation" is a series of headcanons for characters who are little more than names in a series whose worldbuilding you continue to use in your art and whose existence has material consequences for trans people in the uk. you cannot headcanon your way out of supporting one of if not the most famous transphobe in the world. there are fantasy books by real life queer people and people of colour that will never get a fraction of of support that jkr does. read those instead and take a personality quiz oh my GOD

[amusedyan]

Fuck capitalism - Part Two

Part One | you

Pair. Yandere! Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary. Bruce has already confirmed his decision to be part of the child's life. His responsibility is supposed to start from pregnancy, isn't it?

CW. Unplanned pregnancy, mentions of sex, power dynamic (employee/boss), ambiguous consent. NSFW. English is not my first language.

MDNI

Words were not enough to describe your son of a bitch of a boss.

Ah... you just tried that, didn't you?

It felt good, you'd probably do it more often.

After the disastrous conversation with Wayne, you'd been given the day off.

“To think” He had told you “Try not to stress.”

Yeah, sure, of course you'd stay in a Zen state, do yoga, controlled breathing exercises and all that crap.

What else could you do? You had never thought of yourself as impotent.

You had been the perfect student all your life, with outstanding grades from high school to Gotham University (but not enough stress to fall into madness, like almost all professionals in Gotham), and you were a charismatic enough person to get a well-paid job at Wayne Industries.

A complicated work life, but one that had allowed you to save enough to retire at 35 and live peacefully the rest of your life without depending on anyone, even with a child (if you took good care of your finances, of course).

At what point had it all gone wrong? You caressed your belly.

No, this had nothing to do with the child in your belly. This had started long before.

When you were still a student of administrative sciences and He of criminology, psychology and forensic sciences.

When you weren't even...

No.

It wasn't something you could afford to think about right now.

Not with all the suitcases in your living room, reminding you of the thwarted dream of an escape that couldn't be.

Not with all the clutter in your mind about what your next steps would be.

Running away from a disinterested Bruce Wayne was a no-brainer. Now that he had decided to get his hands on the matter, it was an entirely different thing.

The owner of Wayne Industries had all the power, means, contacts and resources to follow you to the ends of the earth.

And you knew this because, as his secretary, you had been involved in the process more than once. Is this what they call karma?

Ruthless decisions by a ruthless man.

You were screwed.

You had decided to stay on as Bruce's secretary at Wayne Enterprises.

And, before anyone could judge you, it was the most rational decision possible.

There was no way Bruce was going to take his eye off you now that he had decided.

And you could make it hard on yourself by quitting the job and losing substantial monetary compensation. Or you could play on his board while you figured out a way to work it all out.

Deadline? 8 months, until the baby was born.

Doesn't sound too far-fetched.

How harmful would it be for you to start smoking again?

— Miss, excuse me, we have arrived at your destination. — The cab driver pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked out of the window, the most imposing building of the gothic city clouded your view.

— Thank you very much. — You extended some bills towards the man, with a crooked smile. — Keep the change.

And, still with your heart in your throat, you got out of the cab to enter the offices.

The work environment had never been the best. Evidently, in an organization as successful as this one, competition and betrayal were part of everyday life. Everyone wanted to be the best, open their doors to the world, receive juicy compensation and, if the goddess of luck was feeling especially kind, maybe even reach the upper echelons.

You had never minded, you took the job knowing the environment you were getting involved in. And yet, for some reason (which of course you knew), the big walls felt much more stifling than ever; the hallways, endless; the lights, cold.

It was supposed to be part of your duties to head to Bruce's offices as soon as your shift began; in all your years on the job, nothing had ever stopped you from fulfilling that condition.

There's always a first time.

Your footsteps led you hurriedly to the first bathroom you encountered.

Your insides twisted inside your stomach, and as you opened the doors, you quickly entered the first available cubicle. You tied your hair up in a messy bun and just.... You let it go.

Absolutely everything, food and bile, in a bitter and disgusting combination inside the toilet. The smell was foul, apparently, your senses had been heightened since pregnancy, your mind seemed to spin, in a foul, suffocating sensation inside the small space.

And, without even giving you time to breathe, to forget the sour taste that had settled in your mouth, your phone began to vibrate in your pocket.

You felt on the verge of fainting, your arms, not responding properly to your brain's commands, clumsily approached the device.

— Where are you? You're late. — You pulled the cell phone away from your ear before answering.

Two minutes late. Just two fucking minutes.

And that you had him to thank for passing up one.

— I'm on my way. — And you hung up the phone, before you had to listen to his voice one more time.

Outside Bruce Wayne's main office, you looked at the clock on your cell phone.

The two minutes had turned into ten.

Between the two minutes you had taken to finish throwing up, the two you needed to clean out your mouth, and the last two in which you ran, in heels, from the bathroom to here.

Hadn't you made good time?

— I hope you have a good explanation. — Bruce had his elbows resting on his desk, his jaw on the back of his hands. His blue eyes staring at you, analyzing you, scrutinizing you.

Looking for the slightest hint of anything.

You should have taken longer.

— There's no use making excuses for me. Not when I'm here, now. —

You couldn't lie to him, not if you wanted to escape his spiral of paranoia and conspiracy. You didn't want to tell him the truth, because he couldn't know you felt weak, not now, not ever.

Not again.

So when you answered him, you made sure you did it with fortitude, showing him that he couldn't get one more bit of information out of you.

Bruce wasn't happy, but didn't probe further, his consideration to avoid stressing you out?

He'll find out anyway.

— So, as for your gift ideas for Damian? —

Ah, where will you be giving out awards for father of the year?

— I didn't... make any such appointment for you, Mr. Wayne. — The limo pulled up in front of a luxurious clinic in downtown Gotham.

A private institution that catered only to the cream of Gotham's crop, whose consultations cost more than half your annual salary.

— Are you... sick? — You asked cautiously, like a cat prepared to back away at any moment.

It didn't make sense, you spent so much time with Bruce that you would notice if....

You'd realize...

This miserable wretch.

The revelation hit you like a punch. No, no, he didn't have the right to do this. To take you to the first ultrasound of your pregnancy without even warning you.

You weren't a dog they had to hide your vet visit from, or a child to lie to about going to the dentist.

Not when you had already decided on the date you would go, when you had already taken into consideration the hospital (a fairly good and financially affordable one).

Why did this man always think he could walk all over you? Completely blurring the line between personal and work that you were trying to build between you.

— “You don't have the right to do this.” — You tried to use a cold tone against him, but your voice was cracking with anger, your jaw, tense, causing you trouble formulating your words properly.

You hated not even being able to yell at him, to express your anger the way you would like to.

— “The right to give you quality treatment at one of the best hospitals on the continent?” — Bruce's expression was confused, as if he really didn't understand the problem here.

And that made it even worse.

— "No, don't you dare make me sound crazy for challenging you. The problem here is that you make decisions without my consent." - You pointed to the hospital from inside the limo. — "I already had an appointment, Bruce" —

He smiled as he heard his name leave your lips. It had been so long since you'd called him that, just like they were close again.

You rolled your eyes, his satisfaction wasn't part of the results you expected. And even though it felt weird to have his name between your lips, you didn't stop your speech.

— A good date, in a good hospital, why didn't you ask me? I'm not something you have to take care of, I'm not a child in your care. I'm an adult, Bruce." —

The man in front of you took his time to respond. Like a parent who decides to wait for his child's tantrum to pass instead of feeding it.

His eyes watched you with boredom, as if waiting for you to simply take it back, put on a smile and happily accept everything he had to give you.

And that felt so... Invalidating. Like he was right here, like you were acting crazy, just for refusing his help.

You hated this feeling.

You weren't even supposed to need it in the first place. This child is yours, it had to be. Why was Bruce meddling so much?

If he was the one who wasn't supposed to feel anything else for you.

— "I understand... Sorry." — Bruce approached you with tenderness, the kind he almost never showed because most of the time he was too busy pushing you or fucking you). — "I didn't know you had a date, I should have asked you. It's just that I care about my son, I want him to have the best? Am I being oblivious?" —

He placed his hand over yours, and those deep blue eyes of his, which usually showed coldness and boredom, tried to look deep into you, in a way that felt almost.... Warm.

At first, you even felt able to relax, just for a second. He had always known how to touch you....

And yet, something about the calm tone he put in his voice, the emphasis he placed on certain words only angered you even more.

It seemed that he had agreed with you, that he had apologized. And yet, you felt that the only person who had lost here was you.

Are you being paranoid?

Note from the author. Yes, I'm definitely planting some clues here. JAJAJAJA. I've always thought of Bruce Wayne as having such an oppressively charming personality. I hope I've portrayed him well.

Next up is a little person who asked to be tagged. Jeje. Hope you like this one as much as the first one. Thank you!

@burntcherries-silencedcanaries

[amusedyan]

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

[amusedyan]

Hey you know how I said I was going to make a workbook on the kind of bullshit you need to do when someone you love dies? I actually did that.

HERE IS THE VERSION WITH LOTS OF SWEARING AT THE USELESS, SHITTY SITUATION YOU’RE IN.

HERE IS THE VERSION WITH A FAIR AMOUNT OF BLACK HUMOR BUT NO CURSEWORDS.

Featuring Helpful Sections such as:

Death Certificates – What you need, why you need them, and how to get them

Prepare to spend a long and miserable time on the phone

What the Everloving Fuck is Probate

Some Simple Dos and Don’ts

Shitty Mad Libs – Templates for writing Obituaries and Memorials

How to plan a non-religious death party

So you suddenly have to become some sort of hacker or some shit

This is an eighteen page book that you can print out, download, share, and give away; it is meant to be used to collect information about funeral planning and account management after a death OR you can use it BEFORE you die and give people information so they’re not stuck playing Nancy Fucking Drew while trying to keep seventeen cousins who crawled out of the woodwork from gutting each other in front of the fucking casket as they argue about who’s inheriting grandma’s favorite dentures.

It’s not exactly cheerful and it’s full of things that are probably going to feel really fucking raw if you’re processing a fresh death.

I’m sorry! I love you! Death is shitty! I’m trying to laugh about it a little and I hope you can laugh a little too because otherwise we’re all just going to cry together.

Good luck!

(in memory of my weirdo mother and her weirdo siblings who all died too fucking young and left me holding this flaming bag of dogshit)

[amusedyan]

reverse gatekeeping. I am on my knees begging people to engage with the source material

[amusedyan]

just wanted to share the National Down Syndrome Society’s message for this year’s World Down Syndrome Day (21st March) 💛💙

[amusedyan]

Doing my part to promote this masterpiece of looniness!

Go see The Day the Earth Blew Up in theaters if you are able to.

(also pre-order the blu-ray while you're at it)

[amusedyan]

SugarBaby!Neglected!BatSib!Reader x Tony Stark - Part Two

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I started this while inspired by Pregnant!Reader. But, it’s just fluff and possible comfort. I had the dialogue written for the past few months, but just got around to finishing it. I’m worried I’m both rusty and still amateurish. 🙃 Sorry if this ain’t what y’all had in mind!

Previous Reader x Tony Stark

Warnings: Fluffy, wholesome, unplanned pregnancy, GN!Reader (or at least attempted), bedroom activities mentioned.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You had taken multiple test. Multiple. Gone to at least two private doctors. You even had Jarvis do a full body scan before telling him not to tell Tony.

You needed to be the one to do it.

So in proper fashion, you decided to tell him as soon as possible. Before anything else blew up or there was some Alien robot monkey attack.

It just happened to be on movie night.

“Tony, love. My dearest husband.” You start as you walk into you fancy penthouse kitchen, holding the box filled with multiple test in your arms since you know the man will need all the proof he can get his hands on.

“Oh no, I don’t like that tone. That is not good not good tone at all. Nope. I don’t want to hear any bad news on Star Wars night.” Already he can catch on that something is up as he personally mixes a few drinks for you both while reading some research articles for one of his projects like multitasker he is.

“It might be good news.” You sheepishly say as you set the box on the counter and move to wrap your arms around his waist.

“Not with that tone.” He snorts out as he starts to make your favorite drink, only for you to lightly touch his arm to stop him.

“Alright, it’s just news.” You murmur into his back, a bit more serious.

Tony can feel the shift happening. Picking up on one of the social cues that something was going on. He put down the bottles and turned off his glasses, setting them on the counter.

“It’s bothering you isn’t it?” He asked, catching on as he spun in your arms and wrapped his own arms around you.

“Yep.” You look up at him, resting your chin against his chest and taking a moment to breathe him in.

“Is it good news?”

“Just… brace yourself.” You give him a pleading look, trying to think of the best way to say it.

“Oh boy.” He gives a playful wince as he tries to alleviate the tension he feels under your shoulder blades.

“So, the barebacking kinda bit us in the ass.” Probably wasn’t the best way to say it, but you thought he would get it.

“What?”

Apparently you were wrong. Modern lingo was a flop.

“The barebacking kinda bit us in the —“ You try again, awkwardly.

“No. I mean, sweetheart, you’re gonna have to explain—“ Confusion and playful annoyance washing over him. You always liked to use modern slang and memes on him to be funny. But, it wasn’t translating well until you finally blurted it out.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, shit! Are you sure it’s mine?” Was the first thing he blurts out as it sinks into him.

“Tony!” You admonished him, giving him a glare as you looked up at him.

“Sorry, habit! Sorry! Just… What do you want to do about it?“ He pulls away, and it stings. But, you know he’s just trying to cope with the information.

“I— I don’t know… What do you want to do about it?” You echo the same sentiments, just as lost as him in that moment.

“I— I’m not good with babies, or toddlers, or kids, or pre-teens — Hell, I’m not good with people in general.” Hearing him say that makes you soften. You knew his insecurities. You shared some of them yourself. And, seeing him like this made something in you shift from uncertainty to acceptance.

“Tony…” You tried to get his attention, but he continued to spiral like a falling plane.

“And- And, I have daddy issues, with minor mommy issues. On top of all other sorts of issues.” Mayday. Mayday.

“Tony.” You try to be a bit firmer.

“I overwork. I’m an ass— you said that just last night too.” You almost want to laugh at how animated he’s being. Pacing back and forth, using his fingers to count out each and every little or large reason.

“Tony.” However, you do find yourself growing exasperated at his spiraling.

“Hang on, I’m trying to make a point here. Anyway, I’d be a—“

“Good dad.” You interrupt. Saying it all confident and nonchalant. Like he did the day he said he loved you.

You can tell it stuns him. Which is rare. It only last for a second before he starts to try to spiral again.

“Babe—“

“No. I’m serious. You’d be a good one.” You verbally take the helm. Something you rarely did in your relationship.

“Just because you call me daddy in bed— Actually that might have tempted fate here. Do you think Thor or one his divine buddies had something to do with this?” Humor. His favorite way of coping. But, it’s a decent sign. It means he is actually processing this. So you add your own comment.

“Pretty sure it was you busting a nut in—“

“Hey, knock it off or we’ll end up defiling the counters again.”

You do laugh at that. It’s how you both have learned to ease into things. The hard topics are easier to digest with a bit of laughter and time.

“Tony.” His name is softer as you reach for him.

“Sweetheart.” He almost teasingly says, but his voice it a little raw. However, he doesn’t pull away. A good sign. A great sign.

But, you know it’s not all over yet. There’s still more to say and Tony is as jumpy as a jack rabbit when it comes to his feelings.

“Tony, you’d be a great dad.” You whisper gently.

It’s easy to tell it’s gotten through by he goes completely still. You can barely even see him breathe. Another one of his tells you’ve learned since loving him.

“How do you know?” He asks. His voice doesn’t break. But, it’s fractured. There’s cracks in it, but it doesn’t fall apart.

“Because you would actually try.” You start to say. Tony rarely accepted praise despite his ego. So you had a limited opportunity to work with this and only your relationship to back it up.

“We both a millions of issues between the two of us. Hell, we could probably be a case study for a couple of psychologists. But, I want to give a part of you and a part of me something we didn’t have.”

And, that’s the conclusion you’ve come to when remembering your time in the manor. Growing up never being good enough for Bruce. Watching your father pick everyone in a city you didn’t know over you again and again. Watching your siblings do the same. How they had their exclusive club that you were never allowed yo be apart of.

A feeling of inadequacy that you developed even after you told yourself over and over again that it was fine.

You felt your resolve start to form. As if all those childish things that weighed you down were insignificant in making this decision.

“I’m not going to do this without you though. If you want to do this I’m all for it. If don’t think you can I’m still going to love you, regardless.” Even if you felt yourself come around to it, you knew it would take time for Tony too.

He wasn’t going to leave you. You knew that. You had learned that. Maybe from the way he had firmly told you that you were stuck with him forever and he’d crawl back to you no matter what.

You’re pretty sure he had been quoting a movie or something because you had laughed at how ridiculous he sounded. But, that look in his eyes made you realize he was completely serious about what he meant.

A long moment of silence washes over you. You can tell he’s uncomfortable by it even though you aren’t. You don’t rush him though. Giving him the chance to crack another joke and move on like nothing happened. Or, to find the words he wants to say.

“I think… I want to do this. I don’t know. You’re giving me those mushy feelings again. The ones that make me want to cry.” A smile breaks out on your face as you rest your chin on his chest to look up at him.

It’s not a no. It’s not a yes. Hell, it’s not even a maybe. It’s just an idea. But, Tony is great with ideas. You’ll probably have to deal with him locking himself in his workshop for a week. However, you’ll be waiting outside for him ready to hear anything has to say.

“Want to bone me against the window and possibly cause a small public scandal, then ignore the PR team while we watch Star Wars? You know, to help cope with the mushy feelings?” You offer with a wiggle of your eyebrows and a mischievous grin. One that earns you a relieved smile and a kiss in return.

“God, I love you.” Is all he says before he takes you up on that exact offer. The kisses growing more heated as a trail of clothes begins to form towards the window of the penthouse.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I didn’t expect people to like my previous Tony work at all. It was just a brain worm that I pulled out and splattered on my keyboard. So, I applied the same method here, but with a bit more finesse. I think.

A/N: This is basically a prequel. Before the Batfam finds out and goes Yandere for SugarBaby!Reader.

[amusedyan]

Gone Maid

Pairing: Dark Paul Atreides x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Your jealous husband will only stop when you’re completely lonely. 

WARNINGS: Toxic Marriage. 

AN: Also thanks to the anon that sent methose 3 ideas, the credit goes to you for this amazing idea. Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

“Where is she?” you storm inside the room, anger bubbling inside you. 

Paul looks up, a neutral expression on his face. He slowly chews his food, impassive about your outburst.

Your anger quickly declines as the uncomfortable silence grows, the imbalance of the situation making you grow nervous. Paul doesn’t like you to argue back. 

“I want her back, Paul. Y-You can’t keep doing this.” your words cause Paul to narrow his eyes at you, a muscle contracting in his jaw. Your breath gets caught on your throat, a nervous feeling rising. 

“I can’t? Is that so?” he repeats, fork dropping to the plate with a loud crash that makes you jump a bit. 

Paul lets out a dark chuckle, shaking his head as he grabs a napkin, cleaning the sides of his mouth before joining his hands, his eyes staring into you. 

“I make the decisions I see fit for me, you and this Empire. You don’t need to be happy about them, but yes accept them.” he declares and you swallow back a snappy comment.

Stay calm and take a deep breath. Don’t let him get to you, you repeat to yourself. 

“She did nothing wrong. She never uttered a single ill word against the Empire, if that’s what you mean.” you defend your maid, who also shares your home planet.

All the rest of the maids that initially came with you now gone, sent away from you. All because of your husband’s need to isolate you, to leave you completely alone unless for his suffocating company. 

His lips curl into a malicious smile as Paul gives you a knowing look, sensing your desperation. 

“Your maid was a menace. She poisoned your mind against me and don’t you dare lie to me about that. I know the conversations you two often shared about me.” he takes a sharp breath, his blue eyes sending shivers down your body.

He can’t possibly know about that. But he does. He always does. You bite your lip, your throat constricting as the tears rise to your eyes. 

It’s more than predictable how this is going to end and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. You’re defenseless, powerless, as you always are against him. 

Paul rises from his seat, approaching you until he can cup your cheeks, his eyes tracing your features. 

“Don’t cry, my love. I’m the only one you need.”

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