#disney villain fic

[lilacs-stars]

moon + tides

this is part 1, read part 2 here! pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) SUMMARY: you, ariel's daughter, find yourself in a strange relationship with the one and only infamous pirate captain, who's absolutely obsessed with you GENRE: yandere, a bit of angst, some comforting fluff here and there, especially at the end CW: a few mentions of violence, someone walking a plank, mentions of drowning, some suggestive material, nothing too graphic though WC: 4.2k

A/N: this req was really fun to write! I might have gotten a bit carried away, heh...this part includes the backstory of how you two got together and the first part of the req, and the second part will include the rest of it. hope you guys enjoy reading this cause I definitely put some hard work into it lol. also please give me feedback and suggestions, I'd really like to know your thoughts!

If you could go back, would you change what happened?

This is something that you often ask yourself. 

You think about that fateful day frequently. It was the summer before your first year at Merlin Academy. You had finally convinced your parents, the famed mermaid Ariel and her Prince Eric, to let you go for a swim unsupervised. Being half-mermaid, half-human allowed you to transform back and forth at will. And although life on land was pretty good, your heart always ached to go back to the sea, to feel the cold, salty water as it engulfs you. To race along the reefs, tail swishing back and forth, allowing you to reach speeds far past what your human form can do. To leisurely swim amongst the many species of fish and plants that created the world of the ocean. To go back home.

Your parents had already gone over the rules with you hundreds of time, to the point where you could recite each one of them word for word: “Don’t go past the boundaries,” “Don’t approach any animals you don’t know,” “Don’t go so deep where you can’t see any light,” “Come out at the first sign of bad weather,” and, most importantly, “Do not, under any circumstances, interact with any humans.”

Your mother may be renowned for rescuing a stranger from the unrelenting grasps of the sea—if she hadn’t, you wouldn’t even be here right now—but that was a very rare case. Far more often than not, mermaid interactions with humans out on the waters ended up in the mermaid being tortured, held hostage, or even killed.

You knew the rules by heart, and yet, maybe it was because of your young age, you still broke them. You weren’t really aware of your actions in the moment; one second, you were swimming alongside a pod of dolphins, racing against the currents. The next, you heard loud voices and realized that almost directly above you, yet still a good few dozen meters away, was some sort of ship.

You had ducked down next to a big sponge, peering up apprehensively. It was at that moment you realized that you were far outside of the boundaries set for you by your parents. You should have turned back, should have swam back home, but there was something about the ship, something that intrigued you so much it forced you to stay in place.

A few moments passed, and seeing as there was no commotion, you let your curiosity get the better of you. After all, that ship shouldn’t even have been out there. Slowly, you crept closer and closer to the surface, making sure to remain in the shadows. The noises were becoming clearer; you could make out people’s voices now. But they still weren’t sharp enough for you to understand what they were saying.

Finally, you took the risk and poked your head out of the water near the rear of the ship. The sight before you elicited a sharp gasp, and made you wish you had just gone back when you still had the chance. 

Extended from the side of the ship was a long, wooden plank. Standing on one side of it (the safe end), was a man, gagged, blindfolded, and bound. He looked to be no older than forty, with a scraggly beard and ripped clothes.

A pirate.

Another figure emerged, walking to the edge of the deck. Your reflexes caused you to duck down quickly, so only your eyes were barely above the water. This figure was much younger, with dark brown hair parted neatly and angular features twisted into a wicked smile. He donned a maroon blazer that covered a white shirt with an upturned collar. Something in his left hand shined brilliantly under the sun’s bright rays.

The younger figure laughed, but not in the way one would laugh at a funny joke. He unsheathed a cutlass from his side, using it to poke the back of the man on the plank. 

“You see, Mr. Jones? This is what happens when you cross the most feared pirate captain in all the lands!” the young figure roared as he yanked off the older man’s blindfold, revealing to him his fate. The fear and panic that spread across the man’s face has been forever etched into your mind, even to this day.

You heard the man beg and plea for mercy, watched as every move he made caused the plank to sway even more violently. The pirate captain simply laughed, his crew along with him. Finally, when you suppose he tired of hearing the man grovel, you watched in terror as the captain gave the man a good kick in the back, finally sending him over the edge.

Suddenly, it was like the world was spinning in slow motion. The man plummeting off the wooden platform, falling, falling, falling. His screams muffled by the cloth around his mouth. Then, all too soon, he made contact with the water with a loud splash. 

He sank quickly, devoured by the ocean’s waters within the blink of an eye. Your young, distraught face watched as a few bubbles rose to the surface. Then nothing. All that remained of the man’s existence, all there was to give proof that he had ever even been there, were a few ripples in the water.

That was it.

You were frozen in shock. How–what–why? Your brain could barely string together a comprehensive sentence. All you were sure of was the feeling inside you. You couldn’t quite put it into words, could barely even understand it. But it made your tail ache to move, made you feel as if you simply couldn’t stay in one place any longer.

You dove beneath the surface, frantically swimming towards the direction where you saw the man go under. You kept looking around, searching, but to no avail. You decided to dive deeper, swimming lower and lower until the water around you was near pitch-black. You were growing more and more panicked by the second, because every second you wasted was another second the man grew closer to death.

Finally, you caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of your eye. Hope flaring, you darted towards it, the figure becoming clearer the closer you got.

It was him.

You reached out and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt to prevent him from sinking farther. His eyes were shut and he wasn’t breathing, but you could still hear a heartbeat. There was still time left.

Wrapping your arms around him, you started the difficult journey back to land. Thankfully, you knew of a small island not too far from here. Swimming with the added weight of a fully grown man was incredibly difficult, especially for a young mermaid, but you persisted. After all, this was his life on the line.

You swam as hard as fast as you could, and thankfully, by some blessing from the heavens, found a warm water current going the direction you were. You let it carry you, the rushing stream multiplying your efforts. Finally, after what seemed like hours but must have only been a couple of minutes, you reached the island.

Letting the wave wash you up on shore, you settled the man down on the soft sand the first chance you got. You rolled him to his front, which was quite the endeavor itself. His heartbeat had grown more shallow, but it was still there. There was still hope.

Using the skills your mother had taught you, you started to nurse the man back to health using your melodic voice. Ever since you were young, she had explained to you the gift bestowed upon mermaids, the power of healing through song. She taught you to sing before you could walk, and it was the one thing that you were sure you could do right.

As you sang your strange and melodious tune, it finally occurred to you that you were breaking the most sacred of rules. Not only were you interacting with a stranger, you were coaxing him back to life. Like mother, like daughter, you thought. I suppose healing strangers who were drowning at sea runs in my blood.

The only caveat to your healing powers is that it takes quite some time to have its full effects. You don’t know how long you sat on the beach, but it had been quite some time. You probably would have been there for much longer had it not been for the boom voice that sounded behind you, waking you from your trance of song.

“Well, I’ll be. If it isn’t a mermaid.”

You practically jumped out of your fins as you turned around, startled beyond words. There, towering above you, was the evil pirate captain you saw earlier. He was even younger than you had previously thought. In fact, he couldn’t be much older than you. You wondered for a fleeting moment how a kid like that could command an entire ship full of grown—and scary-looking—men, but decided you have bigger matters at hand to worry about.

A few members of his crew lurked behind the captain, and you could see a small lifeboat docked to the ground near the coastline. Further beyond that, his ship swayed in the ocean waves, dark against the bright horizon.

You followed the pirate’s gaze down to your tail, which was still out. You silently cursed yourself for forgetting to transform back into your human form, being too distracted by saving the man to pay attention to your own safety.

You wanted to yell at the cruel pirate for trying to kill this man. No matter who he was, what he had done, he didn’t deserve to die. At least not like that. But the words got caught in your throat, so while a war raged inside your mind, you were completely quiet on the outside, simply staring up at the man with wide doe eyes.

“You have a lovely voice,” the man said, with a tone that you wouldn’t quite imagine a killer using. He must have overheard me sing earlier, you thought to yourself. “Tell me, little mermaid, who taught you to sing?”

“M-my mother,” you replied weakly, your voice far more meager and small than you wanted it to be. You were still staring up at him, afraid of what he’d do to you.

“Your mother? Well, that’s quite interesting.” The captain raised his left hand to scratch at his chin, which is when you realized that it wasn’t a hand at all. Instead of a hand was a curved metal hook, with a sharp point gleaming at the end. So that must be the shiny thing I saw earlier, you thought.

“Oh, where are my manners?” laughed the pirate abruptly. “My name is Captain James Hook, leader of the Jolly Roger. And you are?”

You blinked, almost forgetting your own name. If it were a less tense moment than this, you would have laughed at the fact that his name is rather befitting for him. “Y/N,” you respond.

“Y/N…Now, where have I heard that name before?” He tapped his chin with his hook again.

“Sir, that’s the name of Princess Ariel’s daughter,” one of the big, meaty pirates behind him answered in a gruff voice.

“That’s right!” Hook exclaimed. “You’re the mermaid’s daughter. You know, rumor has it you’ll be joining me at Merlin’s Academy in the fall, is that right?”

For some reason, your voice seemed to not work anymore, so you settled for nodding. Join him? you pondered. You didn’t know that he was also a student at the school you were planning to attend.

Hook started pacing along the beach, arms crossed with his hooked hand extended, deep in thought. You watched him, fear growing by the second. A sly smirk spread across his face, which only served to fuel the flames of your worry. 

“You know, you directly defied my command by saving that man,” he started. Slowly. Deliberately. Choosing every word precisely and carefully, like a shark circling its prey. “Do you even know why I made him walk the plank?” You shook your head no, the panic in you reaching record heights.

“That man”—he vaguely gestures towards the unconscious body laying on the beach with his hook—“stole an entire week’s worth of rations from my ship. An entire week’s worth of food and rum for an entire crew. Had he gotten away with it, we likely would have starved to death out at sea. Does he seem so innocent now, little mermaid? So worth saving?”

Again, you shook your head no. Although you agreed he definitely wasn’t an innocent man, you still didn’t see making him walk the plank a justifiable punishment. Despite your thoughts, you kept your mouth shut. Angering the captain further was not going to do you any good.

“Now, if anyone else had done something like this, I wouldn’t hesitate to cut their head right off,” Hook said menacingly, and with a swish, unsheathed his sword once again. You flinched—hard—and scrambled to back away from him. 

Hook took note of this, and, sheathing his sword, crouched down to get on the same level as you. “But don’t worry, little mermaid. I won’t hurt you. You see, you’ve piqued my interest. Plus, it would do me no favors to have a little girl’s blood on my hands.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. So he’s not going to kill me, right?

“But, alas, you can’t leave unpunished, now, can you?” he added. Your eyes grew impossibly wider, your entire body shaking in fear. This was it. He was going to kill you, or do something equally worse.

“I demand”—you already felt a tear slip down your cheek—“that you write to me for the remainder of the summer.”

Wait, what?

“W-write?” you asked in disbelief. “As in…”

“Letters,” Hook finished for you. “Write me letters. I’ll give you the mailing address of the Jolly Roger. Write me everyday, and I’ll promise I’ll write you back whenever we dock. How does that sound?”

“O-okay,” you reply, still taken aback by the peculiar, and far more lenient than you’d expected, request. That was all you had to do? Write letters? As punishment for saving the life of someone he’d ordered to die? You must be dreaming.

“Oh, and,” Hook said, voice lowered as he leaned in close to you, until he was just a hair’s breadth away from your ear. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, his alluring scent of salty winds and something richer, deeper, filling your lungs. “I look forward to seeing you in the fall. Don’t forget me, my little mermaid.”

With that, he stood up, smoothing out the lines on his pants. “You wouldn’t happen to need a ride back home, would you, love?”

You shook your head no, too terrified of him changing his mind to spend another moment in his presence. You glanced back at the man lying behind you, still unconscious. “W-what about him? What will you do with him?” you managed to choke out, somehow finding your voice again.

Hook pondered this for a long minute, before finally answering, “He can live.” You let out a shaky breath. “But only because of you, little mermaid. And only this time. You go against my wishes again, and trust me, your punishment will be far more severe.”

And with that, he went back to his ship and sailed away.

You still muse about that day, thinking how different things would have been if you had changed just one little thing.

You kept your promise of writing him letters, too afraid to know what would happen when you had to inevitably face him in the fall to break it. At first, they started out simple. Ordinary recounts of your day, your favorite things, what you liked to do. As the weeks passed, you started writing more personal letters. How you felt about certain things or certain people, including your parents. You never spoke a word of that fateful day to them, knowing that you’d be grounded for life and forbidden from swimming ever again if they caught even a whiff of the danger you had put yourself in. 

Hook kept his promise, too. He wrote you back, although it was far less frequent than your letters. Even though he kept his responses short and concise, you always ended up hearing his voice in your head as you read his notes. You soon found yourself checking your mailbox daily, even getting to know the mailman rather well. The rush of dopamine you got every time you opened it to find a letter awaiting you was unmatched; you would always run upstairs to your room, lock the door, and pour over the note. Reading every line, every word over and over again, committing them to memory. 

You don’t know why you enjoyed these little letters so much. Maybe it was the thrill of having a secret that no one else knew of, or the absence of your usual loneliness every time you were reminded that somewhere out there, across the seas, was someone awaiting your letters, reading them, and writing back to you. Whatever it was, your heart started to form an emotional attachment to him without you even realizing it. 

Unbeknownst to you, that had been his exact plan all along.

It’s safe to say that once you started school at Merlin Academy, Hook’s—or James’s, as he insisted on you calling him—grip on you only grew. Things started out pretty normal: light conversations in class and stolen looks exchanged across the hall, mostly initiated by him. After the first few weeks passed, things between you two only grew. Secret meetings during lunch hours, rendezvous after school, and small gifts exchanged between the two of you. From there, it became brushing your hands together whenever you passed by each other, soft pecks on the cheek or forehead where there were prying eyes, and more passionate kisses when the two of you finally found time to be alone.

Truth be told, you don’t really know what you two are now. Normally, you would consider two people that partake in such actions to be courting, and you kind of assume you are. But James has never said anything about a relationship to you, and in all honesty, you’re too afraid to ask him. You feel terribly confused at his intentions towards you; on the one hand, he approaches you every day without fail, even if you try to ignore him or when your schedules don’t match up. Somehow, he always finds a way. On the other hand, he never asked you to be his lover, never even vaguely mentioned anything of the sorts. So, you decided, with a heavy heart, to not be too confident and consider yourself his partner. And unfortunately, that meant that he wasn’t yours, either.

Really, you never meant to grow so involved with the bastard pirate that threatened to kill you on the beach that day. But for some strange reason, instead of treating you coldly like he did everyone else, especially the other hero kids, he was softer with you. Considerate, even. You had half-expected him to want nothing to do with you after your first few interactions, but he kept seeking you out. You often opened your locker to a note inside, or entered your dorm to find a letter slipped beneath the door.

Today was one of those days. You had gotten a note telling you to wait for him in your usual place in the evening, after classes. So here you are, waiting, staring at the water fountain in the courtyard. You’ve always been transfixed by the way the water spurts out the center and splashes all around. It seems that whenever you’re alone with your thoughts, they always end up back to that fateful day you met James, and everything that’s happened since.

“Wait for me long, my little mermaid?” a deep voice whispers in your ear from behind. You jump only a little, far more used to James sneaking up on you now than you used to be. For some reason, it seems he loves to startle you by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in close from behind, or speaking softly in your ear.

You twirl around, a delighted expression on your face, although you try to mask it with a feigned annoyance. “And if I say I did?”

“Well then, I’d have to find a way to make it up to you then, wouldn’t I, darling?” he purrs, using his hook to spin you around in his arms so you’re face-to-face. His lips make his way to yours, pulling you in for a slow, sensual kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his head closer to yours, not able to get enough of his touch. 

The feeling of his skin against yours ignites something in you, and you find your mouth opening to give him more access as a soft whimper escapes your lips. One hand reaches into his hair, tugging at it gently from the base of his head, while the other one trails down the front of his shirt.

James leans into you even further, your bodies flush against each other now, as he deepens the kiss. You find yourself leaning against the edge of the water fountain, the cool sprinkles providing a welcomed contrast to your heating-up bodies.

Once you’ve completely lost your breath, you pull away just slightly, a love-drunk smile on your face. “You had a request for me?” you whisper, panting, eyes full of adoration for the man you were interlocked with. 

James breaks into a grin. A genuine one, not one of the smirks he flashes to uphold his patented suave demeanor. “Ah, yes, how could I forget, my love?”

He pulls further away to give you two enough room to breathe, yet keeping his good hand on the small of your back. “I was reminded today that it's been quite some time since I’ve heard your voice, my little mermaid.”

You give a little smile, deciding to mess with him a bit. “Whatever do you mean? You hear my voice every day. I mean, you’re even hearing it right now.”

James cocks his head to the side and raises a single eyebrow, clearly aware of your antics. “Your other voice, love.”

You giggle. “Fine, all right. Only for you,” you say, giving him a peck on the nose. 

You sit down on the ledge of the fountain, turning back to stare at the water again. Although it has been a long time since you stretched your tail and went for a swim, simply seeing the rushing water soothes you. It isn’t quite like being immersed in it, but it still gives you some semblance of comfort. 

You reach into the pool at the bottom, letting the cool water rush along your fingertips as you inhale a deep breath. Through your mermaid abilities, your voice twists into an otherworldly song, filling the space with a mellifluous sound. 

James takes a place on the ledge next to you, reaching into the water to hold your submerged hand. You don’t really feel it, too transfixed on the rushing waves. You don’t see the way James gazes at you, like you’re his entire world. The softness, the tenderness in his eyes, which he reserves for you only. He looks at you not as if you’re his sun, something too bright to ever stare directly at, something violent and explosive and harmful, but as if you’re his moon. 

As if you’re the figure he watches every night before he closes his eyes, and the one he wishes to see again when he wakes up. As if you’re the only thing he notices every time the darkness envelops him, your presence never falling off the pedestal he places it on in his mind. Never losing its worth. He looks at you, your soft glow and mesmerizing shimmer, as if you’re the only thing filling up the night sky. The stars and constellations pale in comparison to you, especially on your best nights, when you shine so magnificently. 

You are the moon, and he is the tide of the ocean, constantly being pulled in by you. Never being able to escape the grasp you have on him, the grasp you are so blissfully unaware of. He stares at you in awe and wonder, bathing in your gorgeous light, so close yet always so far away. Sitting all alone against the dark backdrop of the evening sky, waiting for him to come back to you. And without reason, you always disappear. Always leaving him wanting more, waiting till the moment he can bathe in your presence again. 

As you sing, the tide gets pulled in by the gravity of the moon. Your lyrical voice bounces off the stone walls, surrounding you both, just as the moonlight surrounds the waves on that mystical night. 

But the moonlight is only a reflection of the sun’s glow, is it not? When daylight comes, the moon will pull away from the waves, its absence in the sky all but forgotten in the sun’s presence. And as dawn breaks, so too will the pull between the moon and ocean. 

on to part 2! ->

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[cheeseburger443]

Could you draw Frollo having a religious panic attack infront of Hades?

He's about to piss his pants for sure 👁️👄👁️

[fairyrona]

@andiwriteordie singlehandedly ending my artblock with her new fic !!!!!!! go read the hearbreak prince!!! now!!!

pt. 2 with Mike, Crown Prince of Corazzia!!

[madwomansapologist]

being pampered by shan yu would include

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Prisoner/Bride AU | AO3

synopsis: It was a surprise that you were able to spend so long at camp without getting sick. Freezing rains, sun that seems to multiply with each passing hour, inhospitable nights. It was a matter of time before your health couldn't handle it. But Shan Yu will always be there to support you. Ever.

warnings: sickness (nothing serious). hurt/comfort. in this house we hate the misogynist version of Shan Yu in Mulan (2020). female!reader. baddass!reader. kidnapping.

• At night you kept on tossing and turning in your sleep. You spent more time trying to find a comfortable position than sleeping. During the day your energy was minimal, and there were several times when you decided to leave your horse with the caretakers and continue your journey inside the carriage.

• Shan Yu did notice that something was wrong. You letting him ride alone, thinking loudly at night, talking less and less. During your economics classes, you didn't understand the content. In meetings with the Hun leaders, you did not interfere. During dinner, you turned the food around on your plate, thinking no one would notice.

• But of course Shan Yu noticed. Shan Yu would never ignore anything about you. Not the way your eyes didn't wrinkle when you smiled. Or how your laugh started to cease so fast. Not even how your gaze, something that always seemed to burn, got so pale.

• Its not been long since he recovered from the illness. Shan Yu remember the pain, the coldness, the lonely feeling of falling down. Then everything turned black. And when Shan Yu woke up, he had you on his arms. He will never forget that.

• Shan Yu will never forget how you hold him close. As if he would run away from you if he had the chance. Shan Yu will never forget the natural way you confessed your love. How your words came as sweet whispers, how your eyes glared at him with passion, how you asked him to not break your heart. He would never do such a thing.

• He swore to protect and care for you the day he first saw you, and that night Shan Yu swore to never dissapoint you. To never make you regret giving him your heart. To never make you feel anything but completely, perfectly, incandescently happy.

• And for sure you weren't feeling like that lately. And that was his problem to solve.

• Shan Yu hunt on your name. The largest animals, with the tastiest meat and warmest skins. Only the best for his empress. The elders were ordered to make the best teas and bath oils for your health. He is a man of actions, not words. To say he pray for your health don't change a damn thing, but to actively fight for it... this is more Shan Yu's style.

• And he asked — demanded — you to stay inside the carriage. No classes, no meeting, no problems that you decided you were the one that should fix. And sadly this include not riding beside him. If you can't rest at night, than you better stay at bed all the time you can.

• He will take care of everything. You don't need to move a inch of your body. It's his duty to care for you. Shan Yu will make sure that you eat, that you have your favorite books with you, that your bath is at the perfect temperature.

• If you're coughing, Shan Yu will be there with a cup of water for you. If you finally can sleep, Shan Yu will be the one closing the curtains. If your eyes can't focus on the letters from your book, Shan Yu will read out loud for you.

• It's his duty, but that does not mean Shan Yu don't get any pleasure for treating you like that. Everytime you let him take control, that you trust him, that you let him be near you: it is like a dream come true. For months he tried to win your heart, and now he finally have it. He wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world.

Shan Yu's light sleep meant he always knew when your throat wouldn't let you rest. When he opened his eyes he saw you sitting on your bed, pulling the sweaty sheets away from your boiling skin, your body shaking from the incessant coughing.

“It’s okay,” you said between coughs. The moon illuminated your body, Shan Yu could see how shaken you were from being unable to rest for long enough. "Go back to sleep. I'm fine."

And before he could say anything, a strong crisis took over his body. Shan Yu stood up, approaching your bed, and filled a glass with water for you. You couldn't held it, so he placed the glass against your lips and helped you drink it.

You held his hand, eyes closed as you drank the water. Such a simple gesture, just your fingers on his, but it made Shan Yu's heart race. You looked away from the glass, eyes staring at something on the bed, but you didn't stop touching him.

"I feel so lonely", you murmured. Your fingers caressed his. "Lay with me."

Shan Yu held your hand, stroking your fine skin. He ran his nail down your fingers, along the lines in your palm, over the tips of your nails. Then he kissed your knuckles. One by one, Shan Yu kissed them.

"Of course, my moon." He kissed each of her fingers. A man as big as Shan Yu treating you with such care would never stop being a novelty. "Anything you want."

He sat in the empty space on the bed, and reclined against your pillows. They smelled just like you. Shan Yu stretched out one of his arms, inviting you.

Slowly, you lay on his chest. As you breath in, you got yourself comfortable. You intertwined his leg with yours, hugged Shan Yu's belly, curled up against his body. Shan Yu hugged you carefully, and spent the night stroking your back with his fingertips.

That night, you slept.

• Shan Yu has your heart, just as you have his.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[texanmarcusdavenport]

Keyan Carlisle needs to drop another video essay or something we need a lab rats fandom resurgence

[plush4bunny]

Unwillingly almost, he removes the scarf from around his neck, then unbuttons his jacket and neatly sets it aside, revealing a crisp white long-sleeved dress shirt.

- scene from @chrism02’s 2nd chapter from their Vampire!Anton Ego x reader fic called “Get blood from stone”

[pastelpousay]

Was trying out some new brushes that Ik I’m probably not gonna use ever again 😽😻‼️

UHHH IDRK KNOW WHAT ELS ETO SAY BUT YEA 🗣‼️🐺 also Ik I keep posting but like….😽what can I say, you’ll never forget me 💪🐺🎀

[ladyofthestarlight]

“Would it warm you? If the world was to end in ashes, would it warm you?”

Devotion. New piece inspired by @madwomansapologist new Shan Yu fic (which is top gourmet writing, full recommend)

[zinfindoll]

Swan Song | M. Draconia — 00. hiraeth

[ prologue (you're here!) | index | next chapter ]

Rating: T CW: use of [Y/n], she/her pronouns for reader, swearing

The world, as you knew it, was ending.  You weren't sure how you got here, standing in the middle of a city that had been reduced to rubble.  Black smoke plumed upwards, and the sky was a dark red — not that you could see the sky, since it was covered with pure black clouds that seemed to drip ink onto the world below.  It was an acrid smell that nearly burned your nostrils, and you took a step forward, stepping over a large piece of metal that was once part of a car.

You couldn't see anybody else around.  It was just you.

In this world of ruin and chaos...  It was only you.  Where did everybody go?

Walking forward, you kept your eyes peeled for anybody else that may have survived whatever happened here, but...

Nothing.

The silence was unnerving, but you didn't have to worry about it for long — in the distance, you could hear a guttural roar, causing you to flinch backward as the ground rumbled underneath you.  It continued to tremble even after the noise had stopped, and you leaned against a crunched-up car to keep your balance.  Something moved in your peripherals, and you looked up to see a large creature rising from the rubble, inky black wings batting violently.  It had a domed head much like a diver's helmet, filled with ink, and another roar shook the decimated city.

It wasn't ink.

It was blot.  In your world.

How did it get here?

Swearing, you turned around and ran, but the creature was much quicker.  With claws resembling a hawk's talons, you were scooped up by the back of your shirt before the creature threw you up in the air.  Squinting your eyes closed, you waited for impact as you fell back down, falling, and falling, and falling...

Your back hit the floor, limbs flailing in confusion for a moment, tangled up in sheets in blankets.  Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest, and suddenly the darkness that consumed your vision turned into a bright light, causing you to squint and try and cover your eyes.

Your dorm mate was by the light switch, looking down at you in disgruntled concern.  Her hair was matted and sticking out every which way — she had been woken up.

"Girl...  Again?"

You groaned, head falling back onto the carpeted floor with a muffled thump, not bothering to clamber back into bed just yet.

Your roommate, Yuna, just sighed after making sure there wasn't an intruder and flipped the light back off, shuffling back to her side of the dorm and grumbling the entire while.

 The digital clock on your dresser read just a bit past four in the morning.  Once more, you hit the back of your head on the floor in exasperation.

The dream repeated in your mind like a broken record.

══════════════════

"It's been six years since you've been back."  Your therapist, Melanie Dorsett, leaned back into the chair that she sat in, eyes boring into you.  Not at all concerned, you were lying on the couch, eyes rolling up towards the ceiling as your feet propped up on the armrest.  "And you are still having these nightmares of...  overblots.  Are you still taking your medication?"

"Yes," was your tired response.  "And it's been helping...  A bit.  The nightmares aren't as frequent."  A lie.  If anything, they were more frequent.

Melanie nodded, setting the clipboard she had been writing on to the side.  You glanced over at her, waiting for her to speak.  "What you went through..."  She hummed.  "It's not something that is easily forgotten."

You snorted.  "You don't even believe what happened to me actually happened."

"I'm not here to discuss that," she countered.  "It doesn't matter if it actually happened because it's real enough to you that it's affecting your day-to-day life.  This alternate world...  Wherever you were, you were gone for three years, [Y/n].  It's clear it's left trauma."

Of course it did.  You were suddenly snatched from your home and woke up in a coffin, only to realize you were in a literally different universe where everybody except you had magic — and you couldn't even enjoy said magic, because you were too busy playing pseudo-therapist and fighting giant monsters as everybody had mental breakdowns!  It was a good thing you couldn't overblot.

You didn't say that, though.  You'd just be regurgitating information that you have told your therapist plenty of times before.  Tired, you could only ask her: "Do you think that Twisted Wonderland exists?"

Melanie sighed, pursing her lips.  ". . ."  She was contemplating her words, but her hesitation spoke legions.  You knew her thoughts before she finally spoke them.  "I do not," she started.  You snorted again, averting your eyes to stare up at the ceiling.  Of course.  "I believe that whatever you went through, wherever you went...  Your mind had to make it up to cope with what was going on.  I don't believe you're just making this up for attention.

"With that said, I don't believe you're, as you so eloquently put earlier, 'fucking crazy' either."

A dry smile tugged your lips upward, amused at her quoting you.  "Appreciated."  That smile died down quickly, though.  It was nice somebody at least didn't believe you were going insane.  Even your parents looked at you as if you were a freak, despite them actually seeing you step out of a mirror into their living room.

So much for familial support, huh?

Melanie looked up at the analog clock that ticked away on the wall, and you followed her gaze.  "It seems that's all the time we have today.  Do me a favor...  Consider this as homework, if you will.  I want you to meditate before going to bed tonight.  Try to calm your mind, and see if that will help with the nightmares."

You didn't think it would, but you thanked her anyways and promised you'd at least give it a try.  Bidding her goodbye, you left the small office, nodding at the receptionist before exiting the building.

Outside, the sun shone brightly, but it only could combat the autumn chill of September so much.  Tugging your coat closer to yourself, you started walking down the sidewalk, putting your headphones on and trying not to dwell too much on the nightmare that had disturbed both you and your roommate earlier.  It was always the same nightmare, too, although it seemed to add on stuff every time it came to plague your sleep.  This time, it was the clouds dripping in blot — that was a new one.

The weird thing was, the nightmares had started recently.  It had been six years since you had wound up back in your world, devoid of magic.  Granted, you had nightmares from the start, but they had been few and far in between, not to mention anything like these.  These nightmares, the vivid ones, had started a few weeks ago, only getting more detailed as time went by.  Were your anxiety meds not working?  You weren't sure.

You didn't have classes today — besides therapy, it was a rare day off for you, and with nothing else to really do, you started heading back to your dorm.  

Beneath you, the ground rumbled lightly for a moment, and you stopped walking on the sidewalk.  Other students had stopped as well, but nobody seemed too alarmed.  Earthquakes had been weirdly common for the past month, only growing more and more frequent, but not anything that caused too much damage.

You heard car alarms go off, even as your music was playing through your headphones, and once the rumbling stopped, you were back on your way to your dorm. 

Nothing else had happened on your way back, and your roommate was out at her classes, leaving you by yourself as you let yourself in and turned on your television.  Unsurprisingly, the news was going over the recent series of earthquakes and other natural phenomena that had been plaguing the country.  Conspiracy theorists claimed the world would be ending soon; the smarter conclusion was that global warming was causing all of the natural occurrences.

Using the television as background noise, you went over to your bed and pulled out a shoebox from underneath it.  It was small with few belongings, stuff you had managed to bring back from Twisted Wonderland.  A couple of cards, some trinkets, a bat-shaped charm...  But most importantly, and what you were aiming for, was an old cell phone.

At first, you had been afraid that once it died, that was it — the charger for the phone obviously didn't exist in this world, but you had been lucky enough to figure out that wireless chargers did work.  The concept was the same, there just wasn't the specific type of cable for the Twisted Wonderland phone (which made sense but had still been annoying).

Unlocking the phone screen, you paid no heed to the "NO SERVICE" that flashed in the top corner.  Instead, you went to the photo album, scrolling through the photos you had taken with your friends.  Some of them were pretty blurry, selfies of you and your first-year friends progressing into all of you graduating.

You felt homesick.  Kind of funny, considering Twisted Wonderland hadn't been your homeworld, and up until you left, your only goal was to survive there and make it back here.

Ironic, how this world works.

If you continued to look through the photos, you'd get sad.  Exiting the album, you went over to the messaging app, shooting a quick message to Malleus.  It was undelivered, of course, like the hundreds of messages you sent him and everybody else in the past few years, but even just typing out the messages was cathartic.

The messages remained undelivered, the circle next to them all remaining empty.  Messages that would never reach the receiver.

There was no point in making yourself feel more down right now.  It's not like MagiCam would work, considering it wasn't compatible with the internet in your world, and so you locked the cellphone again and shoved it back in the shoebox.  You slid the shoebox underneath your bed before settling back into the covers.

A quick nap wouldn't hurt, especially considering you barely got any sleep prior.

With the television as background noise, you fell into a light slumber.

══════════════════

A scream was what aroused you from your sleep this time.

Eyes wide and heart nearly palpitating in your chest, you shot upright into a sitting position, knees drawn up to your chest protectively.

"Huwha—?!"

You could feel a bit of dried drool from the side of your mouth, but you paid no heed as you immediately looked over at your roommate.  It was her who screamed, face ashen and charcoal eyes widened behind her rounded glasses.  Nothing seemed out of place.  No intruder, nothing grotesque or broken or missing, but she looked terrified all the same.

Still tense, you swung your legs over the edge of your bed, momentarily looking out the window.  You had well slept past the hours of a 'nap', but perhaps that was your fault for not setting an alarm.

"Yuna.  Breathe.  What happened?"

Yuna looked over at you as if you had grown an extra head for a moment.  She blinked a couple of times before seeming to snap out of her trance.  "I..."  She swallowed thickly, glancing over at the floor-length mirror she had set up.  It was a cheap five-dollar one, and it seemed completely normal, but the way she was glancing at it made it seem like it was possessed.

Well...  Wait...

Your eyes were still slightly bleary from just waking up.  Rubbing them, you squinted, noticing something black and smudged at the top of the mirror, and you stood up to try and take a closer look.

"What the..."

Your heart stopped for a moment, before picking up even faster as you realized what was at the top of the mirror, dripping down slowly as if the frame itself was leaking.  It was a thick, black substance.

One you were more than familiar with by now.

Yuna noticed your apprehension and slowly tried to explain herself.  "I just got back...  When I turned on the light, I swear I saw something in the mirror, and it was dripping — dripping whatever this is."

Something in the mirror...?

"Is it blood?"  She asked, leaning closer, and you instinctively put a hand on her shoulder and brought her back gently.

"No...  It's..."  Damn.  How did you even explain this?  You'd have to fill her in a lot, and even then, you doubted she'd believe you.  More importantly, though...

It had been six years since you had last been in Twisted Wonderland.  Everything had more or less fallen back to normal, and there had never seemed to be any clue on it existing or how to get back save for what little belongings you had.

Which begged the question...

Why was this happening?  Just what was going on in Twisted Wonderland to have it leak into your world?

Whatever it was, you doubted it was anything good.

[whimsi-clown]

Disney villains are taking over my mind...

Because I just had a weird ass dream about them...

A handful of the mainstream Disney villains appeared before my house one by one in fancy cars and trucks, entered my house, and then started a party, then somehow became my neighbors...

Oh. And I think Scar is scared of me for some reason?

And Gaston somehow turned into a werewolf??

And Ratigan is like, a really big human sized ra- mouse.

(Hmm... I think I might make this into a funny Disney villains fic when I feel like it. Who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

[lilacs-stars]

burning passion of twilight

this is part 2, recommended you read part 1 first! (to avoid confusion) pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is ariel's daughter and a mermaid) SUMMARY: as an enemy of the infamous pirate captain starts making advances on you, you are caught between the waves of your lover and the beaming rays of light given to you by another. GENRE: yandere, quite a bit of angst, comforting fluff at the end, a touch of spice CW: a bit of cursing, mentions of violence (sword fight, small injuries, threats), mentions of blood (just a few cuts), lots of hurt moments (from arguing), reader gets harassed, jealousy, possessiveness, suggestive material at the end, also uses of the word 'lover' instead of boyfriend or girlfriend because it fit the setting more WC: 5.5k (did I go overboard? ...maybe)

A/N: me? obsessed with this man? yes, yes I am. the things I felt when writing this...ahhh we love ourselves a jealous man. shoutout to everyone who read and supported part 1, I really didn't think people would actually enjoy reading my writing loll. I know this one is kinda long, so please bear with me. also thanks once again to the anon who requested this, this was a super fun idea to do! all feedback and suggestions are highly appreciated, I'd love to know your thoughts!

“…and then, out of nowhere, BAM! The entire thing explodes!” cries a boy not much older than you, with ginger hair and dressed in a simple green button-up shirt. 

Your entire table erupts in laughter, with you sparing a small giggle. It is early morning, and you are sitting with your usual group in the dining hall. You’re only close friends with a few of them, and merely friendly acquaintances with the others. After all, you aren’t really the extroverted, talkative type. Not like the boy retelling the story of how he pranked the headmaster last quarter, somehow with the same enthusiasm as the first ten times he told it. 

Peter Pan is one of the members of your large group that you aren’t really close with. Although he is considered to be on the “good” side of the hero-villain spectrum, he sure has his mischievous side. 

He is also incredibly extroverted, chatting up anyone he lays his eyes on. Which is why you've always chalked up his attempts to start a conversation with you to his gregarious personality, and nothing more. 

Still, you try your best not to get too close to him. Although James has never directly said anything about him to you, you can sense that there’s some…tension between them. Although he tries to act discreet, you’ve still caught on to the way James glowers at Pan whenever you’re with your group—although he doesn’t take much action, as villains and heroes don’t really mix. How he slips his arm around your waist and pulls you in tight whenever he catches sight of Pan, and even the few times he’s used his hook to pull you into a kiss right in front of the person who appears to be his enemy. Not to mention how he always happens to find you with some urgent matter or other that desperately needs your attention whenever you and Pan are having—or trying to have—a conversation. Although, now that you think about it, James does do that quite often whenever you speak to any guy besides him. 

Pan catches your eye from across the table, and you can tell he’s waiting for some sort of reaction for his latest joke. You give a polite smile, not really knowing what they had been talking about anyways, and turn away to chat with one of your friends. Whatever’s going on between those two, you don’t care, and you sure don’t want to ruffle any feathers. 

Your morning class this semester is Potions and Elixirs 101, in which you happen, by some cruel stroke of fate, to be seated next to the one and only Peter Pan. What is especially annoying about this class—or rather, about your table partner—is that you always end up doing most of the work yourself, being the only one out of your duo that actually listens to instructions. 

The teacher explains how today, your class will be making Shanty Serum, an anti-seasickness remedy. After he goes over the requirements a dozen times, you finally set off on the mission of brewing the potion, which is always done in a pair with your table mate. 

Everything is going fine, of course; you crush the siren teeth into a fine powder, and Pan, following your careful instructions, manages to brew the kraken saliva until it comes to a soft boil. Just as you reach the final steps, you crinkle your nose as a strange smoky odor fills your senses. You look up from your textbook to see your potion, which you worked so hard on, bubbling and overflowing from the cauldron. 

“Ah, I’m so sorry professor! I could have sworn I only put in two unicorn hairs!” Pan cries, jumping back to avoid getting purple goo all over himself. You shoot him a glare, and he adds on, “And I’m sorry to you too, Y/N! I really am!”

You sigh and shake your head, flipping through your textbook to find the page where it explains how to counter excess unicorn hair. Through a bit of luck and a decent amount of skill, you manage to save your potion and not get a terrible grade on it, either. 

The last few minutes of class, Pan walks up to you. “Look, Y/N, I’m really sorry about earlier. I know you tried really hard to get the potion right, and I just messed it up. God, I’m such a clutz.” He scratches the back of his head as he looks down at his shoes sheepishly. “Hey, but if you’ll let me, I can make it up to you! Say, you got any plans Friday night?”

His eyes light up as he looks at you with a puppy-dog gaze, and your heart melts a little at his attempt for redemption. But then again, you did promise yourself to keep a good distance from him…

“I-I’m, uhm, well, I was planning to study that night,” you say, which isn’t really much of a lie. “I mean, with midterms coming up and whatnot,” you tack on with a bit of an awkward laugh. 

“Saturday night?” Pan pushes, eyes still alight with hope. 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m, uh, I’m going out with friends that night. But maybe some other time?” you flash him an apologetic smile, guilt gnawing at your insides as a result of pushing him away. Honestly, you don’t know why James has it out for the poor guy. He seems like the friendly sort to you. 

You quickly duck away and move to the other side of the classroom, deciding to meet up with some friends to get away from the stifling silence between the two of you. Deep down, you knew you wouldn't be able to resist Pan’s offer if you had stayed behind to see the disappointed, rejected look on his face. Still, you couldn’t help but glance back at his direction, feeling endlessly shameful for your cold actions. 

You thought that would be the end of that, but little did you realize, in that moment, how wrong you were.

School finally lets out and the afternoon rolls around again, which means you stand patiently waiting in the courtyard again for James. You pace around the water fountain, fingers lightly tracing along the rim, humming a tune under your breath. 

This fountain has always reminded you of the sea, the rolling waves of the ocean, how the cold water brushes against your skin while it hugs you in a tight embrace. Just thinking about swimming makes your legs ache to morph back into a tail and take off into the blue depths. The worst part about going to the Academy, in your opinion, is that it’s so far from any bodies of water that the only times you get to finally enjoy yourself in your mermaid form is when you’re off for the holidays.

Just as you make your way halfway around the fountain, you see something move on the other side of the water out of the corner of your eye. “Y/N?” a voice calls out. 

You walk back around the fountain to be met with… “Pan?” you ask, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I saw you come this way after school, and um, I’ve been feeling really bad the whole day for how I screwed up in P&E earlier,” he explains earnestly. “And so, I was thinking, I really want to make sure that I don’t mess up like that again. For both your sake, and my grades’.” He gives a little chuckle at his joke, before straightening his face out again.

“So, uhm, I was wondering, would you be willing to help me out? You don’t have to fully tutor me or anything, but maybe help me study and give me a few tips?”

There it is again. That spark of hope in his eyes. And honestly, how could you turn him down twice? After how sincerely he apologized earlier, and now with how he’s still thinking of you and trying to prevent himself from causing more trouble. You may have your priorities when it comes to relationships, but you still have morals, too. And there is absolutely no way you can reject him again, especially when he’s so desperate to improve. 

“Well…yeah, all right. I’ll help you out,” you say, trying to force a smile on your face. 

Pan beams, excitement lighting up his features. “Wow, really? Thanks so much, Y/N! You won’t regret it, I swea—”

Pan’s eyes quickly dart to a point above your head, perhaps catching a glimpse of something behind you. Whatever the cause, he stops dead in the middle of his sentence, face dropping. He goes pale for a second, before morphing his features into a hard and cold gaze. Shocked, you turn around to see what could have caused such a sudden change in his demeanor. 

And lo and behold, behind you stands a dark, glowering James, still half-concealed by the shadows behind him. He holds Pan’s cold gaze menacingly with a dark, furious, yet somehow misleadingly calm look of his own. Then, with no warning, he stomps towards you, ensnaring your arm within his hook as he drags you away. You barely catch his grumbled “Come on, we’re leaving” as you stumble backwards from his tug, practically running to keep up with his wide strides. 

He leads you down a number of empty corridors and doesn’t let you go until you finally reach a deserted staircase. The second he stops hauling you away from the courtyard, you yank your arm back to your side, panting from the difficulty of keeping up with him. 

James spins sharply on his heel, angry glare locked with your confused, half-mad, half-hurt gaze. 

“Care to tell me what the hell all that was about, love?” he snarls. Darkness swirls around in his vicious eyes, deep and unrelenting like the crashing waves of the ocean, and equally as violent.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” you spit back. 

“What the hell does Peter Pan want to do with you?”

“First of all, he’s my partner in Potions,” you reply heatedly, trying your best to hold back the angry tears you can feel already forming in your eyes. “And he was asking if I could help him study. As an apology for messing up earlier today. What’s so wrong with that?”

James laughs darkly, muttering, “Damn it, that bastard,” under his breath. He rocks his head back and forth, pairing it with a wicked, twisted smile that sends cold chills down your spine.

“I don’t understand what’s so wrong with that!” you cry out, feeling hot tears already start to trickle down your face. 

“Don’t you see?” spits James, taking a step towards you and waving his hook wildly in some form of gesture. “He’s trying to steal you from me!”

At this, you recoil, blinking slowly. You can feel the emotions simmering in you, deep down. The calm before the storm. 

“Steal me? From you? Steal me?” you ask, the emotions and fury building inside you like a rising wave. You take a step back from him, your voice rising. 

“Look, Pan and I may not be mates, but I know him well,” James snaps, clearly pissed. “And I can tell you right now that he doesn’t have any good intentions towards you.”

“Steal me? Like I’m some sort of treasure to be claimed? Like I’m an object?” you cry out, exasperated and relentless.

Something flashes across James’s eyes for a split second, some emotion or thought that is rather undecipherable. His features soften slightly, reminiscent of how he was when you sang for him under the moonlight not so long ago. As if his rational mind is finally catching up to his emotional words, his face falls, furrowed brows loosen a bit, and the cold anger in his eyes gives way to a more tender side of him. Maybe if you looked hard enough, you could also see a hint of regret laced in there. 

“No, I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that,” he calls out after you. But it’s too late; you’re already running down the empty hall, away from James. Away from all your problems. 

You’re half-asleep when you show up to Potions and Elixirs 101 the next morning. After your fight yesterday with James, you simply couldn’t catch a wink of sleep. It’s the first time you two fought like this, and you honestly don’t know what to do or how to feel. Sure, you’re still angry at him for the way he acted, but at the same time, you miss his comforting embrace, his soft laughs, the touch of his skin against yours. 

You sit down at your assigned table, trying your best to ignore the ginger next to you. Today, you’re taking notes on a lecture the teacher is giving, so you thankfully won’t have to do much talking to Pan. 

You make sure to listen as intently as possible to the professor, wanting to fill your mind with something other than thoughts of your argument earlier. You pay attention to taking notes so closely that you nearly forget all about your problems. That is, until you’re reminded again at the end of class, as you’re putting your things away alongside everyone else. 

“Hey, Y/N?” Pan asks from beside you. 

“Yeah?” you reply, feigning nonchalance. You make sure to keep your head down as you stuff your notebook into your bag. Oh, please let this be about the homework we were just assigned and nothing else. 

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday.”

Well, damn it. 

You think about giving a quick response to end the conversation, but in all honesty, you don’t really know if he expects you to accept his apology, or give one of your own. You aren't quite sure who is in the wrong here, but you are sure of one thing: saying the wrong thing will not do you any favors in solving your problems.

“What about yesterday?” You try to keep your tone light, as if it’s all water under the bridge, but you can’t help the apprehensiveness that leaks into your voice. 

“Well, I wanted to apologize if I was interrupting something between you two back there,” Pan starts.

You give him a small, apologetic smile, “No, don’t worry, you weren’t interrupting anything,”

“In that case…” Pan runs a hand through his hair as he lets out a quick exhale, before locking eyes with you and asking, “Why are you still with him?”

His blunt question startles you, sending your mind reeling for a response. “I-I don’t know…I just am,” you say, wishing this conversation would be over already. You had never been a big fan of difficult questions that made you doubt everything you knew, or thought you knew, about yourself. 

“He treats you terribly. I’ve seen the way he acts. He’s a terrible lover, Y/N.”

You turn to face Pan directly, a defensive glint in your eye at his accusatory tone. “No, he’s not!” You turn away again as you mumble a small, “And he’s not my lover.”

At this, Pan quirks an eyebrow and gives you a look with a very obvious meaning behind it. “Oh please, have you never seen how he is around you? Of course he’s your lover.” Without missing a beat, Pan tacks on, “And a shitty one at that.”

You huff angrily, but you can’t think of anything to shoot back at him besides blatant denials. Pan must have taken this as an offer to continue, because he steps forward and places a gentle hand on your upper arm. 

“I’m saying this because I care about you, Y/N. You deserve someone a lot better than the likes of James Hook. Someone who will treat you right, take you out on dates whenever you want, and proudly walk around in public with your hand in theirs. Not someone who only meets up with you after school so nobody sees and acts like you don’t exist half the time.”

Your anger only grows at his words, knowing that his accusations aren’t true and that James does care about you…right? Because underneath the part of you that is always ready to defend James entirely and completely, is a part of you that doubts it, doubts him. It’s always been there, lingering in the back of your mind ever since your unusual relationship started to blossom. And now, with a new layer of hurt and confusion having been peeled back during your fight last night, that part of you wondered, deep down, if Pan was right. 

“You need a better lover, Y/N,” Pan continues. “Someone who truly cares about you. Someone…someone like me.”

Your eyes blow wide at his revelation as your mouth parts slightly in shock. You take a step backwards, shrugging off Pan’s hand as you stumble away from him. 

“Wait, please, just hear me out,” he pleads. “Just give me one chance. One chance to prove myself to you. You gave Hook a chance when you started trusting him, didn’t you? And he’s a villain. So why can’t you give me a chance? You won’t regret it, I promise.” He moves closer to you and you keep inching away, until your back collides with a wall and you realize that you have nowhere to run. 

Pan continues forward, your fear skyrocketing at his increasing proximity. “Please?” he begs. “I could treat you right. So much better than Hook.”

He finally reaches you, standing far closer than you would have normally let him, or anyone else, for that matter, as he cups your cheek with his left hand. Truth be told, it feels nice to sense warm flesh on your skin instead of the cold, harsh metal of James’s hook. But you shake that thought away almost instantly, chastising yourself for, even for a moment, putting Pan above James. 

Pan places his free hand on the wall next to your head and leans in even closer. “Please?” he whispers, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. 

The feeling of his exhale, paired with his natural scent that you only smell now when he’s this close, takes you back to that day when you first met James. He had leaned in too, whispering in your ear. You had felt his breath on your skin, breathed in his scent.

You feel an odd sense of deja vu, but for some reason, this interaction causes your heart to race out of pure fear, rather than the exhilarating rush you felt when you were with James. The realization causes you to snap out of your trance and go into full-on panic mode. “N-no, I’m sorry, I…”

Pan growls, not backing away. “Come one! How come you gave a villain a chance and you won’t give me one? That’s not fair!”

Your breathing quickens in pace, the panic settling over you and dragging you deep under like a wave at sea. Your palms start sweating profusely, and you can hear your heart racing a thousand miles a minute. You’re pretty sure this is what people mean when they mention one’s fight or flight response. 

“No! Just, just leave me alone!” you cry, ducking under his arm and rushing away from him just as the bell rings. You run into the hallway, trying to put as much distance between you and him as possible. 

You finally make it to the dining hall, plopping down at a table far away from your usual spot. You don’t care if you have to eat alone; anything to get away from Pan. Your mind is already wandering to thoughts of how to convince your Potions and Elixirs teacher to let you switch seats when you notice a lot of commotion next to the entrance of the dining hall. 

People have started crowding around the doors and murmuring to each other. Curious, you get up from your seat, wandering over to see what’s causing the commotion. As you near, you hear distant shouting and the sound of metallic clinking. You move even closer still, and finally catch snippets of people’s conversations.

“...fighting…”

“over…girl…” “Wait, who’s winning?”

“...did you see that?” “Oh my god…he’s gonna kill him!”

You try to stand up straight to get a look at what's causing the commotion, but the large crowd that has amassed blocks everything from view. “What’s going on?” you ask, not really to anyone in particular.

“Didn’t you hear?” a short, round boy, with big glasses to match his wide eyes answers. You recognize him as Smee from some of your classes. “James Hook is fighting a duel against Peter Pan!”

James…fighting…what? You blink in absolute disbelief. There is no way this is happening right now.

You manage to push your way to the front of the crowd, albeit not without many disgruntled mumbles thrown your way, until you get a clear view of the corridor in front of the dining hall.

You stand there, petrified, as you watch. Hell, it is really happening. James and Pan each have their swords unsheathed and are violently swinging them at each other’s heads, parrying the other’s attacks with deafening clashes of steel.

“You bastard!” James yells, taking another swing at Pan.

Pan jumps back, floating a few feet in the air as he does so, with a laugh. “Oh please, all I wanted to do was treat her right. Unlike you.”

James grits his teeth, countering Pan’s blow with one of his own. “You tried to steal my girl!”

Pan rolls his eyes, continuing the back-and-forth between their swords. “Your girl? As she said herself, you’re not even her lover.” James ducks down to avoid Pan’s latest attack. “Ha, how amusing indeed.” A dark glint shines in his eye as he lets out a cold and malicious laugh, before charging forward once again. “Of course I’m her lover, you bilge-sucking scoundrel! She belongs to me!”

Your eyes grow impossibly wider at those words. It shouldn’t come as much of a shock to you as it does; after all, it’s not like you and James haven’t been acting like a couple for the past few months. But still, you had managed to convince yourself that it was nothing serious, since he had never once directly talked about what you were. And hearing him say it out loud…declaring to the whole school that you were his…it made your heart feel unspeakable things.

“Well, you sure as hell don’t act that way,” Pan bites back, nicking James’s cheek. James recoils for a second, raising his hook to his face and wiping at the gash. He looks down at it, and from your front-row seat you can see the blood smeared against the glistening metal. 

James looks back up at Pan, raises his cutlass, and resumes the fight with a new vigor. Every hit more violent than the last, every offensive move aiming at a critical point. “I’m gonna kill you!” James yells as he lands a blow on Pan’s right arm. 

This gash seems rather deep—far deeper than the one previously inflicted on James—the blood already leaking out and staining Pan’s sleeve. He winces and steps back, but continues the fight. 

You stand there, motionless, too afraid to do anything. Maybe a braver person than you would step in, tell them to stop fighting. But your feet remain planted to the floor, your jaw aching from being clenched so hard as you pray for no one to get seriously hurt.

Pan parries one of James’s attacks and does a quick spin, rapidly gaining momentum with his sword as he turns around and aims the blade…

…directly at James’s head.

A small whimper escapes your throat as the roar of metal hitting metal echoes through the hall. You gasp, heart in your hands, as your eyes take a moment to register the scene in front of you.

James has caught Pan’s blade in the curve of his hook, holding it just inches away from his head. Their arms tremble with strain, with Pan trying to break James’s defense and slash through his neck, and James fighting to prevent him from doing so. They lock eyes, an endless, unspoken conversation passing between them in that moment. Pan’s sword inches closer to James’s head, whose back is bent as he struggles to hang on. 

With a sudden swoosh, James yanks his hook in a downward motion, spinning Pan’s sword inside of its arch. A terrible screech sounds at the rubbing of metal against metal as the sword gets wriggled free from Pan's grasp. James jerks his hook backwards, and the sword launches out of his opponent's hands.

The entire audience lets out a collective gasp as Pan’s sword lands with a clang! against the rough marble floors, off to the side. Everyone is dead silent, holding their breaths with anticipation of what’s to come.

You watch as the realization of his defeat dawns upon Pan, the fear blossoming in his eyes as James extends his cutlass to Pan’s throat. He presses the sharp tip into his neck, lightly enough not to break skin, but still firmly so no one, not even Pan, doubts his opponent's defeat.

“Apologize,” James demands, voice booming across the corridor, tone rather befitting for the captain of a ship.

“I-I’m sorry!” Pan pleas, just now aware of what a dangerous predicament he had gotten himself into.

“Not to me, you moron. To her.” James jerks his head backwards to where you’re standing, in the front of the audience, eyes blown wide. 

Pan turns to face you, eyes locking with yours amidst the crowd. “I’m sorry! Truly, I am! Please, forgive me!” he cries.

James snarls, pulling his sword back, poised to strike a lethal blow. He thrusts his hand forward, straight towards Pan’s chest…

…but doesn’t ever reach it.

Everyone watches, confused—James more so than anyone else—as his hand remains suspended in midair. A soft blue force field shimmers around his arm, just as loud footsteps and an old, yet assertive, voice fills the hall.

“Fighting on school grounds is strictly against school policy, you know.” The headmaster, Merlin, walks in from the opposite side of the hall. His steps echo loudly against the high ceilings, filling the otherwise dead-silent area. “Boys, you come with me. The rest of you, get to your classes.”

The crowd slowly disperses as Merlin whisks James and Pan away. You still stand there, feet glued to the floor, watching their backs until they disappear from sight.

You didn’t see neither James nor Pan in your classes for the rest of the day, and you assumed you wouldn’t be seeing them for a while. The headmaster was generally a kind soul, but he was strict when it came to breaking rules. You didn’t know what punishment he had come up with for them, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

Which is why you’re rather surprised when you open your locker at the end of the day to find a note flutter out and land at your feet. Curious, you pick it up and read it. “Meet me at our spot after school. -J.”

A small grin makes its way across your face, although you try your best to help it. You don’t know why, but reading James’s little notes always brings you joy, even if you are in a tight spot with him. 

You make your way to the courtyard, where James is waiting for you by the water fountain once again.

“Y/N,” he says, voice back to being gentle and soft. You open your mouth to respond, but he puts his hook against your lips, quieting you. “I need to get this out first before you yell at me.”

“I wanted to see you to apologize for my actions. After hearing what Pan said…” His eyes wander down to the ground as a grimace spreads across his features. “I’ve come to the realization that he’s right, love.”

You raise your eyebrows at his statement, shocked at the confession. Cocking you head to the side, you wait for him to continue.

“I haven’t been treating you the way I should. And that is going to change, starting today. I also have to ask for your forgiveness for my actions earlier…it was wrong for me to get upset at you for speaking to Pan. But seeing you act so kindly to my enemy…it really struck something inside of me.”

“James,” you breathe, lifting his hook up to your cheek and placing your hand on top of it. “It’s fine, I forgive you.”

“Even for dueling Pan?”

You let out a small giggle. “Yes, that too. Although, I must admit, I did find you fighting for me to be kind of attractive.”

“Oh?” James asks with an intrigued smile dancing on his lips. He uses his free hand to wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. “Then I suppose I’ll have to start more fights then.”

You giggle again, happy to finally be in your lover’s arms. Truth be told, you had mentally forgiven him long ago. Ever since the night of your argument, you had just wished it would all end, that you two would go back to the way things were.

“Why...why did you start that fight with Pan?” you ask, the question having been on your mind for a while.

James slowly lets out a breath before responding. “I heard of how he harassed you in your class earlier. The thought of him putting his hands on you…making you uncomfortable…it was just unbearable, love. I don't care what it cost me; he had to pay for what he did.”

You process this, giving a small nod. Although you don’t quite agree with his methods, you still find his protectiveness endearing.

“I have something to ask you, as well, darling,” James inquires. You meet his gaze, signaling for him to go on. “Did you really say that I wasn’t your lover?”

“I, well, uh…” your voice trails off. You were hoping that he hadn't quite caught that when Pan said it, but apparently he had. Glancing back up at James’s face, you wish you didn’t see the pain etched into his features, all but hidden by the mask he always puts up.

“Well…” you start. “You never said anything about us officially dating, and I didn’t want to presume…” You look down at your shoes, avoiding his burning stare.

James removes his hook from your cheek and slips it under your chin, gently tilting your head upwards towards him. “And here I thought that it was so obvious, I didn’t even need to mention it to you, my little mermaid.”

You give a small grin, finally at peace within your lover’s arms. “You can never be too sure,” you whisper, leaning in and intertwining your lips with his in a passionate kiss, the intensity building around the two of you.

James takes a few steps backwards as you lean into him, still locked in your embrace, his leg hitting the stone of the water fountain you two love to meet at. He maneuvers his way down and sits on the rim, pulling you on his lap. 

You wrap your arms around his torso, straddling his thighs. James puts his good hand on your waist, using his hook to pull you in by the collar of your shirt. You moan softly, the sound melodious as your rampant emotions spark the magical abilities inside you, one hand leaving his back and creeping inside his loose shirt.

You open your mouth as he slips his tongue inside, gently rocking on his legs. A groan escapes his lips as you rub your fingertips along the bare skin of his chest, moving lower to trace his rather well-defined abs. He moves his good hand down to your leg, gripping it tightly as he continues kissing you with a deep fervor. Everywhere he touches, he leaves a trail of fire on your skin. Your body ignites at even the slightest of brushes, a blaze consuming you inside and out.

Which is why when he raises his hook and brushes your cheek with the cold metal, the feeling is all-too welcomed. You nearly melt as your mind completely blanks, your senses overwhelmed. James doesn’t quite understand why his small gesture elicits such a reaction from you—you were now kissing him and moving with much more rigor than before—but he revels in the way you make him feel. You, on the other hand, get lost in the sharp contrast the coolness of his hook provides to your burning cheek, the inferno that swells around you ever-growing as you continue to have a passionate night with your lover.

The moon has its cycles, coming and going. When it disappears at the first rays of dawn, the tides yearn for its alluring and familiar presence yet again. And although it may seem like an eternity away, nightfall always comes, bringing with it the gentle serenity of being with the one you belong with.

You think back to the question you asked yourself not so long ago, If you could go back, would you change what happened, that fateful day you met James? In that moment, you decide, no, you wouldn’t. Because the life you have right now is the only one your heart will ever yearn for.

end x

<- back to part 1

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do not plagiarize, translate, remake, or copy my works, including my writing and images, in any way.

[lavenderstarsx]

tangled the series

rewatching the show and having to figure out what’s canon and what’s not canon through memory because i read so much fanfiction at age 13. 💀

i was not well i tried to create a varian cosplay with swim goggles-

i have the episodes memorized

[fictionalvillainenjoyer]

Once again pushing the villain!Mal x corrupted!Ben agenda.

[madwomansapologist]

NFWMB | shan yu

Navigation | More Shan Yu | AO3

synopsis: After a tiring day, all you wanted was to sleep. To dream, to rest, until you were ready for another day. You weren't expecting for the turning your night would have.

warnings: fluff then hurt/comfort. chocking. stabbing. violence. torture. murder couple. in this house we hate the misogynist version of Shan Yu in Mulan (2020) yandere!shan yu. female!reader.

It's been a long day. A rough week. Alright, those past few months were complicated.

All you wanted was to sleep. Since you woke up, all your mind desired was to come back to the warmth of your bed. Truth be told, every person you talked to were nothing but a distraction from your tiredness. Travelling with a army isn't easy or comfortable, nor it's to have so many daily tasks.

You have knife combat training sessions at dawn. After that, you need to face the fact that you're still struggling with economics. Don't matter who's your teacher, it always takes longer for you to understand any subject of it. And all those weeks learning about strategy got you a permanent chair during generals meeting.

Even exausted, you did your best. But as soon as the troop's commander gave in to the argument of one of the generals, you understood that you reached your limit.

The perspective of finally doing what you wanted bad, which was to sleep the night away, touched your heart with a expanding peace. Your entire body was numb, nothing in it had enough strength to continue.

In front of your dresser, you struggled to undo your braid. The door creaked, and you didn't need to look to know who was approaching. Shan Yu smells like steel. Impossible not to recognize.

As Shan Yu got closer, you saw him on the mirror. And that ruthless man, a breathing promise of violence to anyone who dares stand on his way, smiled to you.

You let go of your hair, and transferred your attention to the rings adorning your fingers. "Care to help me?"

His cold, forever cold, fingers held the base of your neck. With a tender squeeze, Shan Yu's hands slid down to undo the braid. How can such a big man be so delicate? It will never stop surprising you. How the hand that cuts others is the same that strokes you.

"You honor me, my moon," Shan Yu kissed your scalp. He kept his face resting on you, just breathing in your essence. After a moment, he worked on the pins. Carefully, he took all of them from your head.

Meanwhile, you worked on taking off your earrings and necklace. Lighter than when you entered the carriage, you didn't even realize that you had melted against Shan Yu's touch. This was already a common occurrence. A touch with Shan Yu is never just a touch, it is always something closer to worship.

When Shan Yu first saw you, the end was soon. As he leave you behind, a sweet taste found a home on his tongue. A incessant desire that would never leave him. Now, when Shan Yu touches you, he holds you.

You held his hands, and pulled them towards your mouth. You kissed his knuckles, enjoying the way he too melts against you, and closed your eyes. Silence came, but quickly you decided to break it. "You have much to do?"

"Not until dawn," Shan Yu answered. "Are you going to bed already?"

You let go of his hands, nodding. Shan Yu rested his hands on your shoulders, and his long fingers slid across your collarbone. His affection is always like this, natural. Genuine. "Then can you help me with something?"

"Anything."

Looking into his falcon eyes, you smirked at his eagerness. "What do you think about exhausting me?"

Shan Yu's chuckle was just what you wanted to hear. His fingers tightened on your collarbone, his yellow eyes becoming sharper. "You little devilish thing," he whispered.

You laugh. "Thought I was your moon."

"You are everything," Shan Yu's fingers returned to the base of your neck. They slid through your hair, squeezing. The gesture caused the good kind of pain. "It all depends on your humor."

“Want to find out what my humor is for tonight?” You turned in your chair, now looking him in the face. Your fingers slid over the lace that kept your clothes attached to your body. "Or would you prefer to keep on debating?"

Shan Yu held your fingers, stopping you from continuing. "You're cold," he said. You agreed. "Let me light the fire. Can you wait, my devilish thing?"

And he's right. Not about the devilish part, but about the my. Shan Yu really owns you. Not because he's stronger than you or anything like that, but because everyday you can only chose to be his. The part of you that matters, maybe even the rest, they all belongs to him.

Still, you rolled your eyes. "I'm not sure if I can."

As soon as Shan Yu got out of the carriage to fetch firewood, you ran to the bathroom. Your insides feel all warm and hazy.

You spent a few seconds trying to get your hair to look right. At the same time as you wanted to see Shan Yu's reaction to entering the carriage to find you naked, you also wanted to feel his hands removing fabric by fabric from your body.

Maybe it took you a long time to decide on the second option, because you were approaching the bed when the door opened again. "It was only a joke," you said as you pulled the sheets off the bed. "You didn't need to run."

Shan Yu's silence wasn't something unusual, but as the seconds went furrowed brows replaced the smug smile on your face. Then it hits you. It didn't smell like him.

You were quick to pull the dagger from its hiding place, but so was the chinese soldier who charged at you. In a matter of seconds, your head hit the bedside table and hands clasped your neck.

But you weren't helplessness. As he pushed the air out of your lungs, you stabbed the figure above you. Warm blood gushed over you, but he didn't stop. And because the man didn't stop, neither did you.

The dagger continued to come in and out. Your arm burned, your fingers ache, your throat felt like it was being torn apart: you just kept going.

Until the weight above you disappeared.

For a while you were only able to cough. Holding your throat, as if your hands alone would be able to heal your pain, you struggled to breathe. Your head was spinning, and your body had never been so exhausted.

Then your hearing started working again. And as the shrill whistle faded, the dry sound dominated the place that was once so safe. And the sound, that raw sound, was of bones clashing.

Shan Yu's fists were raw. The skin was torn apart. And no matter how unrecognizable the face of the being that attacked you was, how much he bled and begged for mercy, Shan Yu continued to punch him again and again.

“Shan Yu…” you breathed. Tears ran down your face. "My sun..."

As Shan Yu looked at you, covered in blood and with colorless skin, he stopped.

He turned away from the soldier, and for a moment he was nothing more than a worried animal. His bloody hands held your face, and when you felt his touch... you broke down.

You didn't know what to expect, you couldn't think, you couldn't move. All you did was to sob, shaking in between his hands. You held him, your nails digging on the skin of his forearm, eyes unable to function.

When the soldier whimpered on the floor, you both looked at him. How was he still alive? You stabbed him endless times, Shan Yu beat him until all he could see was red. And he was still alive.

Shan Yu stroked your hair, and that made you look deep into his eyes. You saw a certainty, a determination that couldn't be stopped by anyone. Anyone but you.

"Would it warm you?" Shan Yu whispered to you. The world was reduced to you both. "If the world ended in flames, would it warm you?"

And you understood. As if you both were one. Because maybe you are. Your sun, his moon. Maybe you both are one, and maybe that's why you understood him so well.

"Do it," you told him. But you didn't need to. Shan Yu could see it in your eyes. He saw the moment you decided to agree. "Have your fun."

With a care that no one would expect from a man with bloody fists, Shan Yu carried you to the bed. Not caring about the blood, only about the fact that it wasn't yours, Shan Yu covered you. He kissed your forehead, your lips, your blood-stained hands.

From the ground, the man was lifted up by a Shan Yu burning with hatred. And instead of hurting him, killing him once and for all, Shan Yu dragged him to the healers.

The man will live. Not for long, but long enough. Enough for him to become an example. Enough for him to regret not killing himself when he had a chance.

This time you were the one watching. And Shan Yu does know how to make a show.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[slashingdisneypasta]

I really need to use the word 'snarl' more.