#its having her free will taken from her by the person she cares about the most (thancred)

[haunted-xander]

So. Fatebreaker, right? Ryne's biggest fears made manifest, daddy issues personified, yes?

He's an amalgamation of Thancred and Ran'jit, his face, his voice and his weapon is Thancred's, but his body, his fighting style and his words are Ran'jit's.

Throughout the fight Fatebreaker constantly makes comments about how only he can protect Ryne, only he can provide for her, only he has even the right to so much as stand beside her, to be in her general presence. He's possessive and obsessive, repeatedly asserting that she is HIS and his only. Which is exactly what Ran'jit says basically every time we encounter him.

But this time it's in Thancred's voice. This time it's with the voice and face of a man she actually cares about.

Ryne isn't scared of Thancred, she never has been. Even when she first met him she was barely even nervous (as clearly shown in Thancred's short story). There's a lot of different feelings happening between those two, but fear has never been one of them.

But now, after things have gotten so much better, she is scared of Thancred becoming like Ran'jit. Because if Thancred was just a little further gone, if he was just a little less compassionate, he would've. It wouldn't be hard for him to go down the same path as Ran'jit did, to be incapable of letting go of the ghost of that girl he loved so so much to the point he'd stubbornly grip anything close to her he could. He didn't, but the fact he could've is terrifying.

It makes his final words, words that are Thancred's, so very important. This is her deepest fears made manifest, but he still says he wants her to be happy. Her happiness not only matters, but is important to him.

[sttoru]

‘the king of curses doesn’t like sharing. especially not when it comes to his partner.’

☀︎｜tags. heian era!sukuna x female reader. sfw/fluff ? ig. set in the heian era, duh. jealousy & possessive themes. size difference (reader gets referred to as small!). tried to be realistic w/ sukuna’s characterisation so. . . don’t be surprised to read about him killing somebody. therefore, mentions of blood. reader is implied to have a fear of blood (dw sukuna takes care of it teehee). reader gets called 'brat'. not beta read; this sucks ass.

you were taking a stroll outside of the estate, the hem of the floral kimono you’re wearing lightly dragging along behind you. the weather was perfect with not a single cloud in sight.

a pair of silent footsteps follow yours and you sigh. even though it was an usual occurrence, you still aren’t used to having one of sukuna’s servants at your side at all times. your over protective lover insisted that it was for your own ‘safety’. as if anything or anyone could harm you whilst you stay within the four walls of the estate far up in the mountains.

sukuna is continuously busy and thus decided to assign you a personal maid that accompanies you and takes care of your every need when he isn’t able to. well - looking at the bright side of things - at least she tries her best to hide her presence from you. she tags along silently and only speaks when spoken to.

you stop near a sakura tree and tilt your head back to admire its beauty. after a few minutes pass, you hear a different pair of footsteps walking up your way. you turn your head and see a familiar male servant approaching you with his head held low.

his hands were holding onto a platter with a cup of warm tea and a few of your favorite delicacies. the brown-haired man greets you politely. maybe a bit too politely as his voice carries a bright smile, “good afternoon, my lady.”

you return the greeting with a smile of your own. it was like you to treat the servants around the estate with kindness and care — a total opposite of the king of curses. you take a pastry from the platter and look back up at the man, “thank you for bringing me these. i appreciate it greatly.”

the way you treat the ones of lower status has always been an admirable trait of yours. it might have stirred some forbidden feelings for you in the heart of the male servant. he knows that it was impossible - he’d seen how easily sukuna gets rid of those who get too close to you.

but, he isn’t here. the king of curses isn’t present in the current moment. the brown-haired male shifts in his place a little, fingernails digging into the material of the plate he was holding. he was going to do it — no one could hold him back. not even the maid who stood a couple steps away.

“y-you look very beautiful, my lady.” the servant stutters and bows his head at you. you are surprised to hear such a flattering sentence leave the lips of the man in front of you. none of the men around you had dared to be this straightforward in ages. they all knew the possible consequences that such actions could bring after all.

perhaps it was due to the absent intimidating presence of your lover. still, you can’t help but feel grateful. you giggle softly, covering your mouth with your free hand, “thank you so much.”

the male servant gulps at the sound of your laughter. ‘oh, how lucky the king of curses is - to have such a beautiful woman at his side,’ the man thought to himself. he was sure that he could treat you better than the indifferent sukuna himself.

he hesitates to continue the conversation for a second. there was an urge deep within him; to ask if you’d like to have some tea with him in the dining area. it would be extremely bold and maybe way out of line considering that you’re taken.

but, the way you reacted to his earlier compliment gave him a huge confidence boost. one that would sooner or later send him to his grave.

“would you perhaps be interested in joining me for a drink, my lady?” the servant asks and anything that happens after that instant, is all but a blur.

you can’t process the next few moments as everything happens way too fast. the last thing you remember seeing, was the servant before you. a sudden gust of wind passes by and the sounds of quick slashes fill your ears. you couldn’t figure out anything else as your vision gets blocked by something. or rather - someone.

a familiar and large hand covers the back of your head. the scent of the person holding you is also oddly familiar—a certain scent that made a shiver run down your spine from both excitement and light fear.

“sukuna?” you guess and guess correctly. your voice was muffled due to your face being smushed against his torso. you didn’t yet understand what happened, so you try to pull your body away from the king of curses, only for his grip on you to tighten.

sukuna’s face was as emotionless as ever. his eyes look down at the pile of blood near your feet — what was once a human being had now turned into nothing but a pure crimson liquid.

“foolish. absolutely foolish.” the king of curses grumbles, his tone filled with disgust. he doesn’t soften the grip on your body for even a moment. one of his four arms holds you captive against him, his hand firmly yet somehow tenderly cradling your head just above his midriff, “it seems that i cannot leave this place for a single second.”

sukuna glances at your personal maid who had been bowing to him the moment he appeared out of thin air. she could feel his piercing gaze on her and knew exactly what to do without being told: to clean up the mess that stained the garden’s pavement.

“sukuna,” you try to move your head again, but was still restricted. you let out a small whine in response. you just wanted to see your lover after spending an entire day without him. any thoughts about that servant from earlier had long vanished, “i want to see you. can i?”

the request is an innocent one. there isn’t a visible change in sukuna's expression, but the way you asked him that was quite. . . endearing, if he were to explain it. he would comply if it wasn’t for the literal bloodbath he created. which he doesn’t want you to witness.

“not yet.” he replies and effortlessly uses one of his arms to pick your small body up. your lover notices how you try to steal a glimpse at the scene behind you while he moves you around in his embrace. he grunts and gently smacks the back of your head, “no peeking, brat. do as told.”

sukuna knows how much you hate the sight of blood. he's being considerate towards you — even if you do not realise that just yet. however, he also does not have a single regret about murdering that servant. it was to be expected. anybody who dares to make a move on his woman should suffer his wrath.

plus, it's not like you don't know about sukuna's ruthless actions. you’ve come to get used to them; more and more male servants keep dissappearing without a trace after they’ve been ‘too friendly' with you. it's easy to guess who’s behind those disappearances.

it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. as long as you don't see it happening and as long as you get to stay under sukuna's care and protection - you don’t mind.

“can i look now?” you huff after sukuna has carried you away from the garden. the king of curses clicks his tongue at your impatience.

he sighs deeply before allowing you back on your own two feet, “i do not understand why you’re so adamant on looking at me, but fine.”

you waste no time and immediately open your eyes. your gaze doesn’t wander off towards your surroundings—it instantly settles on sukuna. he looked the same as usual; there was not a single change about his appearance and yet you find yourself smiling at the sight of him.

“i missed you.” you hug your lover and feel him returning the gesture a few seconds later. he looks the other way and may seem indifferent to your display of affection, though the man was secretly grateful for it. for you in general.

“mhm.” sukuna lets out a small noise of acknowledgment and that is all you get out of him. he doesn’t have to say much; his body automatically does the talking. he squeezes your body against his — your small frame disappearing behind his beefy arms.

the king of curses doesn’t understand why, but the way your eyes sparkle when looking at him, intrigues him. sukuna had never seen another human look at him like that before after all. they all cower in fear; except for you. you don’t show a single ounce of fear. thus why you are something - someone - he must keep for himself.

he has and will never have any intent on sharing you with anyone. you’re his, for as long as he exists.

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

Hi I love your work so far, do you think you could do headcannons for all the different characters of the main Hazbin Hotel cast when their lover comes to them injured? Like how they would treat you and then how they would deal with the person who harmed you. I would love to see this ahhhh 😫

Ahh of course! I love this, thanks for the request! I hope you like it!

Trope: Hazbin Hotel x Injured!reader

Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Angeldust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Lucifer

Warnings: Physical violence, mention of death, injured reader, blood.

author's note: hey guys! this is my first time doing one of these, and I'm still getting better, so forgive me if its a bit shabby. If you have any requests, feel free to send them in! I'm in a creative buzz rn lol. Enjoy!

🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:

The day that your attacker decides to hurt you is the day that they decide to die. Messing with the Radio Demon’s plaything is about the last thing you want to do. 

Alastor often sent his shadows to follow you into town when he couldnt be with you, so the second you were attacked, Alastor could sense that something was wrong. 

By the time his shadows had carried you back to the hotel, your attacker had already escaped, but luckily, his shadows saw everything.

When he rushed down to see you, he seemed rather indifferent at first. He carried you up to his room, immediately conjuring several healing ointments to heal you quickly.

He laid you in his bed, in which you almost immediately fell asleep.

He hears the whispers of his shadows, and gains all of the information he needs out of them. 

With a single snap of his finger, the issue was taken care of. Rumor has it that the screams of your attackers' seemingly “random” death could be heard about 3 rings down. 

While waiting for you to wake, Alastor conjures two steaming bowls of his mother’s jambalaya. Placing one on the side table next to you, he sits down next to your sleeping body and lightly grazes your head, singing soothing songs until you wake up.  

😈🗝️Charlie🗝️😈:

Would of course be so very angry at whoever did this, but her first priority would be healing you up and making sure that you’re absolutely 100% okay and comfortable. 

Would set you up in her bed and assure that you have anything at all that would make you feel more comfortable. Tea? Yup. Ice pack? Already got it. Cuddles? Of course!

Would definitely let you cuddle with Razzle and Dazzle for as long as you needed.

She would try her best to talk to you and figure out what happened - to figure out who did this to you.

As you told her, she seemed surprisingly… calm? She simply thanked you for telling her and left the room. 

Though Charlie doesn't seem like a particularly violent person… She can get protective over the people she loves. So, let's just say she got that issue taken care of real quick. How stupid to mess with the Morningstar family. 

🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:

Anybody in her vicinity needs to watch out when she hears that her love is hurt. 

Like, seriously, heads will roll. But not before she checks on you to evaluate how badly she needs to fuck up the person who did this to you. 

When she sees you, bruised and bloody, she can't help but hold you so tight and cry, scolding you for getting yourself into a bad situation without her there to protect you.

Vaggie knows what it feels like to be beaten and dumped on the side of the street like garbage. She could never forgive herself if she allowed that to happen to anybody else, let alone the genuine love of her life. 

When she asks for the person who did this, you can only give her a vague description. That’s alright though, she will use her former exterminator skills to scan all of Hell and find the person who dared to do this to you. She will not leave this alone until she serves you justice. 

🕷️💖Angeldust💖🕷️:

Coming home from the studio to find you in his room, crying and bruised, he immediately drops whatever he’s doing and comforts you in the biggest hug ever. 

Angel has plenty of experience with being abused and left to fend for himself, so he doesn't immediately resort to asking questions. No, that’s not what you need right now. You just need to know that you’re loved, beautiful, and that this does nothing to affect your worth or value as a person.

He carries you from the floor to his bed, covering you in blankets and laying next to you with Fat Nuggets. 

“It’s okay baby. You can cry, it's okay.” he whispers as you sob into his chest.

He allows you to initiate the conversation of what happened, not wanting to push you past your limits. 

Once he finds out what happened, he knows what he has to do. He waits until you fall asleep, and heads down to the club where your attacker happens to frequent. For once, being a famous pornstar will actually serve in his favor. He tempts your attacker to follow him, and immediately beats him to an absolute pulp. 

He allows the person to live, saying “I am only letting you live so you can know how it feels. You ever try this shit again, and I will find you. Except that time, you wont leave here looking so… whole.”

♥️♦️Husk♦️♥️:

Husk is used to all the residents of the hotel bitching and moaning to him about all of their issues. With Charlie coming to him and oftentimes crying about the many failures of the hotel, tears were no foreign sight to him.

But coming from the kitchen to the bar and seeing you there, looking an absolute mess, was different. 

“What the-What the fuck happened?” he yells. When you flinch, he knows that something happened.

When you explain to him what happened, he immediately needs a description of the attacker. He takes possibly the largest shot you've ever seen and storms out of the hotel.

He wishes that he could do more to protect you. Back when he was an overlord, he had power beyond anybody's imagination. He could've snapped a finger and your attacker would simply disintegrate (but not before he tortured him a bit first). But now that Alastor owned his soul, his powers were limited. 

You know what wasn't limited on husk, though? His pure physical strength.  

He immediately finds the guy walking on the street adjacent to the hotel (dumb, right?) and absolutely obliterates him. 

As the attacker is begging for his life, he just keeps hitting, blind with rage and love for you.

When he wants back into the hotel bloody and exasperated, he sits in the stool next to you and wraps you with one of his wings. 

“It’s all okay now. I’m here” he says as you lean on his shoulder, so ready to go to bed. 

🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:

Sir Pentious always loved coming to your room to show you his many zany inventions. Normally you welcome him in with open arms, a sweet smile on your face, but today was different.

When he knocked on your door, he was met with absolute silence, which isn't normal for you. When he listened a bit closer, though, he could hear your small sniffles. He trusted his gut and slowly opened the door, fully ready to be denied entry.

Instead, you looked at him shyly, turning away and crying. He could've sworn that he saw a… black eye?

He took this opportunity to come and sit next to you on your floor, placing his arm around you and letting you lean your head on his shoulder. 

When he noticed that you were calming down a bit, he asked you what was wrong.

You explained that while you were engaged in a turf war, some ruffian beat you up, and badly. The girl you had momentarily teamed up with had left you behind, and you were left to trek back to the hotel on your own, barely able to walk. 

You could see something change in his eyes. 

He curled his tail around you, his cool skin calming your nerves. He assured you that he was here now, and nothing like this would ever happen to you again. He then swiftly called his egg bois to entertain and comfort you while he prepared his airship. The idiot that did this to you was going to pay, and not just in turf.

😈🐣Lucifer🐣😈:

Bursting into Lucifer’s room, the only thing you could mutter is “Help” as you fell into his arms. 

He frantically carried you to a chair and tried to assess your injuries. Man, someone fucked you up, and badly. Too bad he would kill them before they could brag about their success. 

He rushed to find ANYTHING that could help you. Bandages, ice, your favorite food, a rubber duck, ANYTHING. 

When he finds you absolutely passed out asleep in the chair, he gently moves you to his bed and tries his best not to stir you. 

As he sits watching you, thinking of your beautiful smile (and how he’ll brutally kill the person who did this to you), he observes your features with great detail. 

When you wake up, you smile. Lucifer must have gone, but sitting on your table is a bowl of soup and… is that a rubber duck that looks like you?

[orkbutch]

Rambling about Astarion bc im bored at work. I like Astarion because I think he is a genius take on The Evil RPG Companion, and is an especially great take on The Fixable Bad Guy. I don't think hes evil, but I do think Astarion is a genuinely bad person at the beginning, and I think Astarion is only drawn away from being a bad person - and experiences a great redemption arc - via active intervention from others. Astarion would not redeem himself without guidance; he is absolutely bent toward self destruction and evil at the beginning of the story.

I think comparing him with Shadowheart is what drew me to that conclusion. If you are nice to Shadowheart, as in you talk to her and respect her boundaries and do stuff she generally agrees with, she will choose to free Nightsong all on her own. You don't need to roll to convince her at all, or romance her or even push back on her Shar worship that much. You just leave it up to her, and she chooses that path. (Side note, what brilliant writing.)

Astarion is not like that at all. Even if you were tight as fuck he would not choose the good option, with no input, in Act 2. Astarion, like all the companions, needs help and connection to reach healthy actualization, but I think its great, resonant writing that Astarion needs the most active intervention of all. Because he's had his autonomy so completely taken away from him, he simply doesn't know how to use it anymore. He doesn't know how to connect with other people anymore. He's someone that's learned to enjoy cruelty, to resent the pleasure of others, and to be entirely selfish for survival. It makes sense that he must be dragged back into being capable of trust. He needs to be forced to be part of a community again; caring about things; allowing for vulnerability and optimism.

And like. How fucking smart is it to have THIS guy in THIS game. Because of the tadpole and the existential threat they're up against, he is actually forced to work with you. This kind of character is so hard to do in most RPGs because its like... why wouldn't he just betray you all and leave? Why would he stick with you? The tadpole clears all of that up. Astarion must stick with you or hes lost and dead. Astarion knows that you and the other companions are collectively stronger than him, so he can't betray you. He is forced to rely on you by default.

This is also what makes him SUCH a good version of the "you can fix him" romance; you are almost never the direct target of Astarion's bastardry because he can't fuck with you. The problem with Fix Him's is that usually they are a threat to the romantic lead, and fixing him requires enduring, soothing and forgiving the worst of his badness as some kind of test of loyalty, hopefully proving to him that being bad isn't necessary (toxic shit). But Astarion... can't do that. He is afraid to actually fuck you over because you are directly tied to his survival, and because you quickly show yourself to be more capable than him. He cannot have real power over you. (Until he's ascended, then he becomes the absolute worst version of the fix-it.)

I do think the trade off is that Astarion not directing his bastardry at you makes it easier to Ignore that Astarion is A Bad Guy, but I think that'd happen even if he was more of an asshole to you, so who cares. I think he's got the best written Redeemable Evil RPG Companion arch I've seen honestly. I love that he's so fun while being so tragic, whether redeemed or not.

[runningfrom2am]

the death of a doctor // LTPF

summary: with the snow heir on the way, your first son, your father wants to meet with you for the first time in years. your husband is not going to let that happen.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 1.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. use of poison with intent to kill, murder. also this takes place ten years after they returned to the capitol!

series masterlist // playlist

Your father is led through the extensive halls of the Presidential Mansion and out to the back gardens, into the rose garden where he is set to meet with you. Finally.

He's not met with you, and he should have anticipated that. His daughter, pregnant with her first child- a little boy, who should one day be heir to the President's fortune, born into a life of success and indulgences beyond imagination. Instead, he only sees his son-in-law.

"Please, take a seat." Coriolanus offers to him, a welcoming smile on his face as he gestures to the small tea table in the middle of the space. It was a fake smile, of course. Your father has seen it on the television or at events hundreds of times, but Coriolanus Snow would always try to be a good host- regardless of how much he loathed the guest in question.

"Thank you." Your father matches his polite grin, nodding to him before taking a seat. His eyes scan the greenhouse, taking in the abundance of roses and the patches of raspberry bushes that line the walls.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Coryo says proudly, carefully plucking one of the white roses from its stem to place in the centre of the tea table. "My wife takes good care of this garden, it's in honour of my Grandmother. They both love roses." He explains, not giving your father any chance to answer.

"It's lovely." He nods in agreement, watching as his son-in-law places the blooming flower in a vase on the table, sitting down himself and looking at your father expectantly. "Where is she?" Your father decides to get right to the point- no use dancing around it anymore.

"She's out." Coriolanus answers. "She's with Tigris. They're picking out colours for the nursery today."

"I was told I would be able to speak to her."

"I am capable of passing on a message."

Your father sighs, looking down and shaking his head. "Coriolanus, I appreciate everything you have done for my daughter over the years, I do, but that girl needs her family. Her parents. Especially right now. We just want to be able to support her during such an exciting and scary time."

"She has a family." Coryo defends quickly. He had never thought the situation to be scary, before. It was all excitement and parties and baby clothes and being together and enjoying the moments in which she carried his child. Suddenly, he's seeing it differently. His mother. His sister who was never even given a name. You were not free from that fate. He clears his throat. "And I assure you, she is well taken care of here. We have the best medical care the country offers available at the snap of my fingers." He says it more to remind himself.

"No, she doesn't." Your father argues, a smug smile tugging on his lips. She doesn't have him. The most renowned and desired doctor in the Capitol, in the country.

"She does." Coryo insists. "I know what you are implying, and I promise you are mistaken."

"I just want to make things right, Coriolanus." Your father adds. "I want to apologize so my wife can be there for the birth of her grandchild, so I can take good care of my daughter and ensure she is safe."

"She is safe."

Your father clocks the tenseness in your husbands jaw very quickly. "I know about your mother." His tone drops to make space for a fake form of empathy. "I knew her. She was an amazing woman and a wonderful mother. It's such a shame, what happened..." He ticks his head. "So easily preventable."

"Then where were you?" Coriolanus allows himself to lean into something more personal with the bitter question.

"I wasn't called. I wish I had been." Your father answers honestly. "Both of us know your family was in no position to pay for a doctor at the time, even with your father away working himself to death in Twelve."

Coryo chews on the inside of his cheek, looking down at the untouched drinks in between them.

"Maybe things would have ended differently for all of us."

"You speak as if you are some kind of angel." Coryo scoffs. "You still would have gone home from saving my mother and sister and beat your own daughter for being up past her bedtime, but you didn't come because my mother's life was worth nothing to you if you weren't going to be paid to save it." He picks up the teacup in front of him, taking a sip before removing it from his lips and looking down at the liquid. "My apologies, this one is yours. I asked for milk in mine." He says casually, carefully switching the cups. He can see it in your father's eyes he wants to fight with him on this.

"The war made it impossible to do any unpaid work, and like I said, I wasn't made aware of your mother's state. Besides, Y/N is my child, and you know nothing of what goes into being a parent. It is hard. You'll have moments of poor judgement and do things you will regret. You will make mistakes. That is all it was to me." Your father explains. "But I know better now. All I want is to help her."

"You don't want to help her." Coryo shakes his head. "I am telling you she has all the help she needs, and you are not needed. Your wife and son will be allowed in the mansion during the birth. It is my wife's choice when and if they will be allowed to see the child." He knew you would allow it, you occasionally had lunch with your mother and your brother found himself at the mansion quite often to use their library. They were welcome, he was not.

Your father takes a sip of his tea while he processes the information. "Is that her decision, or yours?"

"Like I said, I can pass on a message to her." Your husband replies, ignoring his question and popping one of the raspberries from the plate into his mouth and sitting back, hands placed patiently on his lap while he ignores the pain starting to bloom in his chest.

"Tell her..." Your father sighs. "That we love her, and we miss her dearly. And if she needs anything or feels unsafe, she can always come home."

"Unsafe?" Coryo asks, tilting his head with a slight, humourless laugh. "I know you don't care for me, sir, but I am the last person on this planet who would do anything to harm her. It seems you're not understanding that."

"I just want her to survive." Your father spits. "If you love her the way you say you do, don't you want her to be the one to successfully produce your heir? You would hate to have to find someone else, I know you would. Especially if the love of your life died in the same way as your mother, this time taking your child with her."

Coriolanus stands up abruptly, anger coursing through his veins alongside the poison as the chair slides back behind him. "You've never believed in her. Ever. Even now you assume that at the most natural struggle she will die. This is not about my doctors, it is about your ego and how little you respect your own child because of how you raised her. She has more fight in her than any woman I have ever met. You don't even know the extent of it."

"It's because I know her, Coriolanus. I..." Your father's voice trails off and he looks down at his shaking hands. He knows what Coriolanus has done, but there's nothing he can do to save himself now.

"You don't know her. You never have." Coryo argues. "You have never once reached out except to try and leach off of her success and my name. You couldn't care less if she lives or dies- you just want to be the one to deliver a royal baby. If you knew her, you would know that the last thing in the world she wants is to ever see you again."

He watches as your father's face goes ashen, the sentience behind his eyes disappearing. It brings a smile to his face. "You are a monster." He adds, and it's the last thing your father hears before he dies right there in your garden.

Coriolanus smiles in satisfaction, raising his hand and snapping for his security and his nurse to enter. Quickly, she reaches for his arm as he already rolled up his sleeve and she can inject the antidote.

"Dispose of him." He urges the security team, quickly pulling his red coat sleeve back over the injection site in his arm. "My wife will be home soon, this would be distressing for her. I need her as calm and comfortable as possible."

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey ,  @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

[c-nstantine]

The Grandmaster and His Concubine

Description: Bi Han uses his personal whore.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning: Y/N has a severe case of dumb bitchitis, smut, cursing, doggy style, not choking but his hand is on her throat, reverse cowgirl, mild breeding kink towards the end (i think this is the first outright smut I've written so go easy on me)

Being weak in the Lin Kuei was simply not allowed. It was frowned upon to be so and it was fortunate that Y/N found the favor of Bi Han, the Grandmaster. For a man who rarely pitied anything, he pitied her. So much so, that he wanted her by his side when possible. Now rumors circulate about the exact nature of their relationship, it's hard for anyone to tell if Bi Han enjoys the company of Y/N.One thing is certain, he enjoys spending his nights between her thighs.

Tonight was one of those nights. He had faced a foe in battle that wasn't strong but it frustrated him to no end. Y/N could hear the footsteps of her beloved as he approached her quarters. His footsteps were heavy and his voice was rough as he commanded his subordinates to do something useful with themselves for the night. Y/N smiled with excitement as her doors opened. She kneeled on the bed wearing only a robe with her hair free as can be.

"Grandmaster," Y/N whispered in acknowledgment of the man in front of her. He stood, looking down upon her. His mask was removed so that Y/N could see his face. She reached out to touch his cheek but he caught her wrist. His grip was tight but not enough to hurt her, not yet.

"You're already on your knees for me," Bi Han's hand found its way to her throat, and out of instinct, Y/N's mouth fell open. Bi Han swelled with pride because of how well he had trained Y/N.

"Of course, beloved," Y/N said with a pleasing smile as Bi Han gave a small squeeze to her throat.

"How endearing. Bathe me, whore," Bi Han commanded and Y/N was more than happy to oblige him.

His grip loosened on her wrist and she took this as time to grab his hand and lead him towards the hot spring just outside her quarters. It was surrounded by wooden walls that were at least 10 feet tall. It's not like anyone could spy on them back here, Bi Han would have the head of anyone peeping on what's his. The water was lined with various plants and the faint croaking of frog-like creatures could be heard. Y/N took her time undressing him, he rarely allowed her to do so. Maybe he did care about her beyond the physical. Steam erupted from the spring the moment that he stepped in. She began to slowly scrub away in dirt and blood from his body as he sat in the water. His hair was in a loose bun with a few strands falling around his face.

This felt more intimate than anything they had ever done. Once again, he grabbed her wrist but this time it was to pull her to be directly in front of him. He removed her robe and grabbed her hips. Y/N sat in his lap.

"Can you feel that? That is what you do to me," With his hands still on her hips, he ground his hips against hers. Y/N shuddered and gasped. She had taken him many times before, but every time, she was still surprised by his size.

He kissed her neck and lifted her hips slightly so he could slip into her. Between the warm water surrounding them and her juicy pussy, he truly thought he was in heaven. Y/N could feel his cold hands move from her hips to her plump ass. She was sure that in the morning, her brown ass would have grip marks.

"Ride me as I taught you," Bi Han took pride in being the first man that Y/N was ever with. Meaning that she was his custom whore and all of her little tricks were only for him and would only be for him. She would never take another lover if he could help it.

Y/N whined at the loss of contact when Bi Han moved his hands away from her hips. He leaned back and spread his arms over the rocks behind them. He smirked as Y/N bounced up and down in his dick. He thought the view of her bouncing titties was a sight to behold. He liked to study her face as she did all the work. The way her face would scrunch as she used his dick to hit her spot.

As Y/N's knees began to burn, Bi Han began to grunt slightly and thrust into her hips. His hands found her waist once more, and he took control of her motions. Y/N's hands were grasping for his shoulders as he forced her down on his cock. Her moans grew louder and louder until her pussy clenched around his cock. He filled her womb soon after, and Y/N was happy to feel so warm with her lover's seed.

Abruptly, Bi Han stood up and moved him and Y/N to her bed. He tossed her onto her sheets and soon climbed on top of her. He stroked her cheek with his calloused, cool thumb. He looked at her more sincerely than before and if Y/N wasn't sure before, she was sure now that she would never leave him. He kissed her still-damp cheek before spreading her legs.

Y/N was still a little dazed from the first orgasm he had given her when he slipped back into her. However, she did not forget how it felt to have inside of her. The way that with every stroke she felt closer and closer to being complete. The grip he had on her thighs would have her bruised in the morning but she refused to remove her legs from above his shoulders.

His hips began to stutter as he plowed into her pussy. Y/N was finding it difficult to stay in place. She was sure that she had came at least twice now but he continued to ram into her. As he continued to fuck her, he got more sentimental. One of his hands left her thigh and began to play with her nipples. Carefully, he'd use his abilities to give her more pleasure.

"Tonight, you will make me an heir. Is that clear, slut?" He spoke cumming in her for the second time of the night. His voice was gruff from all of the groaning that he had been doing.

"Yes, Grandmaster," She was a little drunk off the cock when he flipped her over. Hearing Y/N being so delusional over him, made him want to go another round. He flipped her over and pushed her head into the pillow.

"How does it feel the Grandmaster's personal whore?" Y/N couldn't even respond with how hard she was being fucked. Once again her moans filled the chambers. The sounds of skin slapping could be heard well outside of her room but everyone knew not to disturb the Grandmaster once he was in this state.

"Damn," Bi Han whispered as he took in Y/N's form. He took his hand and pressed on her back so that he could reach the deepest parts of her. She was sure that he was kissing her cervix with every stroke.

"Bi Han," Y/N whined loudly when he finished inside her once again.

Y/N tried to move away from him to grab a towel but he pulled her back to his chest. He was cold but in a comforting way. His eyes said words that his mouth could not.

"You will not move. My seed will not leave your womb," Bi Han said kissing her cheek again. Y/N just nodded tiredly. When he returned Y/N was already asleep, so he placed her bonnet on gently and wiped his excess seed from her thighs. He noted the various bruises and a sense of pride came from them.

"She is mine," He whispered before joining her in bed once more.

[bookishdream]

Blackmail

Kaz Brekker x fem!Reader Summary: Reader gets kidnapped by the Crows Word Count: 3k CW: swearing, abusive parent, blood

She used to live her best life; a daughter of a council’s member, an heir to the ground so big she couldn’t even begin to comprehend its vastness. However, when she finally came to the age where she was to come into own money and ground, she was kidnapped. By one of the gangs violating the streets of Ketterdam, nonetheless. 

“Who, the fuck, do you think you are?” she pulled on the ropes binding her wrists. The room was so dark that she wasn’t able to see a person standing by the wall opposite of her. When she’d been dragged through the part of the city she hadn’t ever visited, she’d been hearing two voices behind her, one female and one male, bickering back and forth about trivial matters. Yet, when the bag had been removed, she took notice of another girl, sitting on a window sill, her legs loosely dangling over the edge, her face didn’t convey any feelings, only cold indifference.  She also noticed two men, one looked as if he was Fjerdan with his blonde hair and strong face features, whereas the other had brown skin and a little smirk was pulling at his lips. He looked like he was having the time of his life. She counted four of her captors, but she quickly realized who had taken her. She sighed and when she felt her wrist start bleeding, she stopped trying to get free. 

“Well, well, aren’t you a little feisty?” the pale-skinned girl teased, her brown hair fell loosely on her back, and she was leaning against the brick wall of the warehouse. “I told you she wouldn’t be willing to cooperate.”

“Tell me one person who would be, if they were tied up and kept against their will,” y/n spat, sweat coating her forehead. She was trying to come up with a plan that would let her run, but not when all of their attention was on her. 

The girl rolled her eyes, “But for Kaz’s being late, you need to be patient, yes sweetheart? You will hear a reason soon,” 

“It’s ridiculous,” 

“Tell me about it,” the brown-skinned boy remarked, when he came closer to her, and the light from the street fell onto him, y/n noticed his belt with two revolvers, they shone. She swallowed a big lump of saliva, her anxiety spiking. “It’s never fun, when we kidnap someone,”

“So you’re telling me it’s not the first time?” 

“Love, we’re professionals, of course it’s not our first time,” the boy smirked into her direction, making her frown. What did they want from her?

Suddenly, she heard a rather loud clicking of something. The warehouse must’ve been empty, since the echo of the sound matched the loudness of her own heart beating in her chest. She cursed when she realized what Kaz the girl meant. Her father would warn her about the nightmare of Ketterdam, a boy who had deceived her father more than once, and the boy who was a top priority to her father. Since Brekker had robbed him for the first time, messing with his books, her father wanted nothing more than to catch him. He’d never accomplished that. Obviously. 

“You have her? Good,” his hoarse voice matched his looks. He had a sharp jawline and his brown eyes were set on the chair she was sitting on. “I hope you’ve heard of me, it will be easier to make an introduction. I’m sure your father has told you plenty of me.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, lifting her head so as to look at Kaz, who had taken a step closer to her. “Careful, because your hat might not have more room for that ego of yours,” she heard a surprised gasp of someone from behind Brekker. 

“She came for his hat,” the boy who had talked to her earlier whispered.

“I heard that, Jesper,” the other girl, who was sitting at the windowsill answered. 

Kaz didn’t look like her words made any impression on him, he simply leaned on his cane further, looking y/n into her eyes. She held his stare. 

“What do you want, Brekker?” she asked, her voice still. 

“We need a Squaller for our job,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Then go and find yourself one, I don’t see how this concerns me,” she still tried to keep her face as impassive as she could. 

“Oh, I think you know exactly how this concerns you,” Brekker smirked. “You and your mother are clever, I need to give this to you, but nothing goes past my Wraith. Your little travels to the countryside, your mom’s forged papers. I know everything,” he emphasized the last word, his unsaid threat making her shiver.

“And what would you possibly need from an untrained Squaller?” she asked, “Hypothetically speaking, of course.” 

“You are a descendant from a powerful line of Grisha, y/n. With a little more training, you could control clouds and weather, am I right?”

She kept silent, weighing Kaz’s words. She was fucked, no matter what path would she choose. Working with him and his gang came with a strong possibility of her father finding out and his wrath. However, not working for him and letting him go the stadwatch with the intel he had would put into jeopardy not only her, but her mother as well. 

“I don’t know if I could control the weather,” she finally whispered, giving up. She could hear breaths of relief from the others. “I haven’t really tried doing more than controlling and bending the wind.” 

“Well,” Kaz smirked, his cane clicking as he was walking toward the exit. “You’d better be a fast learner,” his final words echoed in her mind. 

Few days later, she still couldn’t get rid of Kaz’s words. The littlest sound startled her and she’d lost her appetite. She was in the library, when one of the servants came to her with a little note. The boy left the piece of paper on the table she was sitting at, and left.. She took the note, the paper was cream-white and the scribble looked as if it had been written in a hurry. The location that had been written told her nothing. She wasn’t familiar with other districts in Ketterdam. She sighed and got up to take a map. She had an hour to find the place and get there. 

After finally finding out that the location of the meeting was outside the city, she cursed at Kaz for leaving her such a short time to arrive there. She quickly changed for her outdoor clothes and left. 

When y/n eventually showed up, she saw that everyone was already there and she noticed a new face. He looked very young, his head full of red curls and a face full of freckles. He smiled kindly at her. 

“You’re late,” Brekker commented.

“And you’re unbearable, yet I don’t go around stating the obvious,” she remarked, her hair being lifted by the wind. “Of course I’m late, I live on the other side of Ketterdam,” 

Kaz wanted to answer her, but when he opened his mouth, the white-skinned girl interrupted him and clasped her hands. 

“I think we should begin,” she came closer to y/n, her hand outstretched, “My name is Nina, the one with the guns is Jesper, the one with the best arms is Matthias,” Nina winked at him, making the Fjerdan’s cheeks tint pink. “The redhead is Wylan and Inej is probably somewhere on the roof.” At the girl's last words y/n turned around and tilted her head up in order to see the Wraith somewhere. 

“Are you a Grisha?” y/n asked, letting Nina lead the way towards the area that was more vacant. They were on the field, only buildings that were in the close vicinity were factories or empty warehouses. 

“I am a Heartrender,” Nina replied, motioning for y/n to stay in her place. Then Nina took a few steps back and stretched out her arms. “Show me what you’ve got.” 

The weather was mostly sunny, with some clouds floating on the sky. It wasn’t very windy, but it was enough for y/n to work with. First she bent the wind into a small whirlwind at Nina’s feet. Then she made it a bit bigger, but still safe. She could feel her face getting some color on it. Her mom had said that she had been looking like a ghost for the past few days. At last, y/n gathered more of the air and she made a show of disheveling Nina’s hair, blowing wind under Jesper’s coat and, her personal favorite, she flew off Kaz’s hat. She heard Jesper and Nina’s silent laugh, however Kaz was looking at her with an indifferent expression. 

“How long until she can control the storm?” he questioned, his moves smooth as he used his cane to lift the fallen hat. He put it back on his head and shifted his way back onto the stick. 

“A week, tops, she has a huge potential,” Nina answered, her eyes glimmering with excitement. 

Y/n rolled her eyes, she could feel the troubles she was going to be in, were their little scheme be found out. 

It took much more than Nina assessed. Only after two and a half weeks was y/n ready to call a small lighting. It wasn’t big, hell, it couldn’t even hurt anyone, but it was something. And she was proud of it. Nina happened to be a good teacher, partially because she herself had been studying in the Little Palace once. 

“Good job, y/n!” She exclaimed, the wind created by the Squaller carrying her voice. “Now call for something bigger,” 

“Nina, you know I can’t,” she breathed, her heart beating so fast and loud that she couldn’t differentiate if the last thud was her heart of the strike of lightning she did. 

“One last time, you have so much undiscovered power! Imagine what you could do once you finally grasp it!.” 

Y/n breathed a pant, her forehead and the nape of her neck was covered in sweat. She could feel her eyes burning from it, even though she had been using the wind to cool her down. She called for the clouds above her head once more time, gathering the electricity sizzling in them. She pressed her palms together and focused on the tree standing mere meters from the pair. Then, y/n let out a small gasp and shot out her palm into this direction. Neither of Grisha expected what would happen next. Y/n didn’t think her powers could be so grand. The alone tree that was standing in the distance was now on fire and both of the girl’s eyes widened in shock. 

“Shit,” Y/n mumbled, she rushed to somehow pull out the air and put out the fire. It cost her even more energy than creating the lighting. Fortunately, the fire was extinguished and only dark strokes of smoke were coming into the air. 

“That was amazing!” Nina giggled, her face brightening in the smile. “Let’s go eat something.”

Y/n let Nina lead the way to the Crow Club, where hopefully they would serve her some food. She was starving. She had never used her powers so much that she felt famished. When the two girls finally arrived at the Club, y/n noticed how much commotion there was. People were everywhere, occupying the poker tables, playing black jack or sitting at the bar. She couldn’t glimpse much more, because Nina was pulling her to the staircase. Upon arriving on the first floor, where there was a room big enough to accommodate seven people she saw a couch and, with a long sigh, sat on it. 

“Any progress?” Kaz asked, while making his way into the room and then towards the desk that was facing the couch and two armchairs. Y/n looked at him and rolled her eyes, refusing to answer his question before putting food into her mouth. She first smelt then saw waffles, her head shot in the direction of the door that was being opened and closed by Nina and Jesper on her hills. Y/n smiled when the Heartrender handed her the plate with hot food and started eating it like she had never seen food in her life. 

“Someone would think that your father is starving you,” Brekker remarked, his voice hollow. 

“Someday, I will put this cane straight into your-’” she was interrupted by Jesper putting a waffle into her open mouth, shutting her up. She rolled her eyes again, but didn’t say anything more. She was focused on eating her lunch, zoning out when Nina informed Kaz what her teachings brought. 

After the afternoon and a part of the evening spent with the Crows, y/n got up and made her way home. She could glimpse Inej a few times, while walking down Ketterdam’s streets. She knew that the Suli was just making sure that y/n wouldn’t spill the secret, but it made her feel better that she had company, nonetheless. 

When she eventually came home, she was met with silence. Lamps were lit up, however she couldn’t hear any talking. She silently creeped over to the living room and she saw her father sitting in the armchair, looking into the fire. 

“My dearest daughter,” the man started, placing his cold gaze upon her. Y/n knew he somehow had learnt what she had been doing for the past weeks. She swallowed, but kept her face straight. “Do you want to explain why people saw you with those brutes?” He got up and made his way towards her. 

His breath reeked of alcohol, but he still came close enough to grab her chin and tilt it so she could see straight into his eyes. She tried to explain herself, but her father lifted his fist and punched her. She was blinded by pain, she could feel hot blood coming from her nose to her mouth. She couldn’t brace herself for another hit, this time his fist connected with her stomach. Y/n doubled over, breathing hard. Her father used this as an advantage and struck another hit to her face and the girl fell to her knees. 

“Get up, you pathetic girl,” he crouched and his face was at the same level as hers. She spat at him, saliva mixed with blood. Her father made a disgusting noise and wiped his face off with the sleeve of his shirt. He roughly took her arm and lifted her up. He swung once again, but his blow never met y/n. She used her desperation and power and hauled her father straight into the window that was behind him. There was a lot of shattered glass and she could glimpse a bit of blood on the pieces that stayed in the window. Y/n didn’t think longer, she made her way towards the door, stumbling. 

She didn’t know if Inej was still somewhere on the rooftops, but still y/n ran into the direction of the Crow Club. Her feet heavy and her face swollen, but she kept running until she saw the familiar building. She barged into the club, running for the staircase and making her way to the top of the stairs. To Kaz’s room. 

She opened the door, noticing the dimmed lights and Kaz sitting at his desk. He lifted his gaze and the only thing that indicated his surprise was his frown. 

“Rough night?” he asked, getting up from his desk. He walked closer to her, looking her up and down. “Please, do say that the other guy looks worse.”

She breathed a small laugh but only shook her head. “I didn’t know where else to go,”

Kaz sighed, going to the small, adjoined room, y/n suspected it was a small bathroom. A moment later, Brekker emerged with a small kit in his gloved hands, he handed her the kit and motioned for y/n to the room he had just left. 

“Go clean yourself, I’ll tell Inej to fetch you some clean clothes,” 

“Thank you,” it was the first time she let herself be that vulnerable in front of someone. She wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation. 

Y/n went into the bathroom, her limbs heavy and her head hurting. She took a look at herself and she spooked herself. Her whole left cheek was swollen, her eye nearly shut, her lip cracked and blood was marking its way down her chin and neck. She swallowed and started cleaning herself. When she mostly got rid of the blood, she lifted her shirt and saw a big, purple bruise on her ribcage. She had a hard time breathing. She felt the room swirling around her, but she strove to pull herself together. With as deep breath as she could take she left the bathroom. 

Kaz was sitting at his desk again. He lifted his head when she stepped into the room and observed her when she took the fresh set of clothes from his bed. She walked towards the door. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” his hoarse voice came from behind her. She turned around and saw him frowning even more than before. 

“I don’t know, maybe Nina has some room on her floor,” she remarked, hugging the clothes to her chest and turning her face back to the door. 

“Stay,” Kaz whispered, his voice barely audible. Y/n stopped in her tracks, her spine straightened. Did she hear correctly? “You can take the bed,”

“Kaz, you don’t have to,” she started, but was promptly interrupted by Brekker’s voice.

“Shut up and lay down, you stubborn girl,” he came back to whatever work he had, y/n heart grew and she smiled for the first time in hours. 

“Who would’ve thought there’s a heart underneath all of those layers,” she teased, laying down on his bed. 

“Such a pity your father didn’t knock your teeth out,” Kaz said, but the small smirk on his face hinted that he wasn’t serious. 

“Asshole,” 

[beansmack2021]

Can I request yandere 🦌 Alastor 🦌 x reader where its like phantom of the opera or phantom of the radio? Alastor sometimes haunts his old radio station in his free time and falls in love with the intern reader and her voice and she mostly just gets everyone's coffee but he wants to hear her voice on the radio so he uses his "skills" to push her up the ranks from weather girl to co-host then after a while of being co-host she gets real popular and the radio host starts to flirt with her so Alastor drags her to hell to be his personal co-host and at first the reader is scared and confused but later accepts it and likes him?

The Point of No Return

Amazing request! I love the idea behind this and hope I did it justice.

TW: Mentions of murder, creepy man, Alastor being scary

He wasn't sure when he started coming back to his old radio tower. He wasn't sure when he started slinking into the shadows and making his way up from hell to observe the living. He knew why he kept coming back though.

She was beautiful. She had shiny (h/c) hair, big (e/c) eyes, and freckles that dotted her face the way the stars dotted the sky. Everything about her was beautiful. Everything about her was gentle. She walked on the balls of her feet. She barely made a peep when she entered a room. She also went unacknowledged, but boy, were Alastor's eyes on her.

The first time he heard her speak, his dead heart stopped again. Her voice was soft, floaty. He never wanted her to stop speaking. He would've listened to her for hours, but unfortunately, she isn't the one broadcasting her sweet sound to the world.

Some cranky old man had taken over as New Orleans most prominent radio host. He ordered her around a lot. She was sent on coffee runs. She took notes, and she'd try to pitch her ideas, but often went unheard. If he were still alive, if the station was still his, he'd let her take over for him any time she so wished. She wouldn't be a mere intern, she'd be his cohost. They'd be partners. Alastor's face grew even redder.

Her voice was just too calming, too smooth. She needed to move up in the world. He could help her. She may not know him, but he knew her. He knew that she deserved a much higher position than the one she had. He could take care of that for her.

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

Y/N wasn't expecting to get called into the station so early. She wasn't expecting her boss's panicked frenzy as he told her that her coworker, Dave, was found dead in his car that morning and that she needed to come in and take over his position for an indefinite amount of time.

She scurried into the office, a cup of coffee in her hand, plopped down at her new desk, and was immediately set to working on sorting through different stories that her station's host could report to the public.

They all seemed to be about the same thing. Copycat killers, all of whom followed in the footsteps of the Killer of the Bayou, sprouted up everywhere. He'd been dead for nearly 20 years. His name was Alastor, but other than that, the only thing she knew about him was that his story gave her the creeps.

She briefly wondered if one of the copycats killed Dave. Suddenly chilled to the bone, Y/N noticed the sun moved to hide behind the clouds for a moment before the station got brighter once more.

The police hadn't done an autopsy yet. Anything could have happened to Dave. She'd probably pick out the report for it that their radio host would read during the morning and afternoon news.

She was right. Just days later, she had to find the least gruesome report, and hesitated as she handed it over to Henry, their radio host. Dave was murdered, there was no question of that. He'd been strangled, but there were no finger prints, no rope fibers, no shoe prints in the mud by his car. It was like the killer ghosted through his murder without a trace.

She shivered. Was it cold in the station?

"Thanks, doll."

He sniffed once, wiping his snot with the back of his hand. She grimaced, tried to cover it with a smile, and politely nodded.

"Say, you got a real pretty voice. Would you maybe wanna use it? Jane's retiring soon. She did the weather. Glad to see her go, she was kind of a drag."

Y/N didn't want to be excited about the offer because Henry was awfully... unhygienic. She didn't want him to get any ideas with her either. Still, she couldn't stop the light from dancing its way into her eyes. She nodded eagerly, excited to finally get her chance to have their listeners hear her voice.

Each day, she'd come in and tell the people who tuned into their station that it'd be sunny, or rainy, or windy, or snowy. Each day, she slowly spent more and more time on the air. Eventually, Henry decided that she'd simply be promoted to his cohost.

She was appreciative, but apparently not nearly as appreciative as he would've liked. Henry got flirty. He'd compliment her clothes, her hair, and her shoes. He'd tell her how smart she was. At some point, the seemingly harmless compliments turned into him hitting on her.

"You've got a sexy voice, babe."

"Oh, um. Thank you, but please don't call me babe."

He took that pretty personally.

"Listen here, you little bitch. I'm the reason you have this job. You wouldn't be anybody without me. So why don't you be a good girl and keep your mouth shut."

He got closer and closer to her, and louder with each step. But just before he'd reached her, a large crack appeared in the floor. Tendrils of shadow slithered out of the crack, and a horrific looking man rose from the gaping red crevice.

"I believe the nice woman said "please". Now, I'd like you to say sorry."

The man was terrifying, with a short red bob, black eyes with glowing red pupils, large antlers growing from his head, and what appeared to be deer ears. Everything about him seemed very pointy.

"What the fuck?!" Henry screamed.

"Nope, those aren't the words I was looking for."

The shadowy tendrils that preceded the man shot out at Henry, wrapping themselves around his throat and pulling him from his feet, into the air. The man turned to face Y/N, a smile stretching the width of his face. His antlers shrunk down and when he blink, his sclera turned red. "Hello, my dear. I'm here to take you away."

"Where are we going?" Y/N trembled. The man's face looked very familiar, but she couldn't quite place a name to it.

"Hell, of course."

Hell? As in, the Bible's Hell? Y/N felt her heart stop.

"Who are you?"

His grin got even bigger. "Oh, I'm sure you recognize me, dear. You've been staring at my portrait for months."

She racked her brain, when an image from one of the papers she'd skimmed through flashed in her mind. Her blood ran cold. "Alastor. You're Alastor."

"Bingo! Now, let's go. I have somewhere to be tonight."

He grabbed her hand, and the two were forced through the ground. She screamed, and the noise was silenced as the crack in the floor sealed itself shut behind them.

[legiblyloathed]

Ain’t He Darling? (Chapter 1)

Yandere! Wally Darling x Reader

A/N: Okay, so the little blue haired menace has been rotting my brain for the past week, sue me. I tried to get him out of my brain by rewatching Gravity Falls, only for the episode “The Hand that Rocks the Mabel” to inspire a whole fanfic. Straight up water on a grease fire. Anyway, enjoy.

Next

I always forget how much of a hassle moving is until it’s time to actually do it. Weeks spent selling and giving away half of my belongings, trying to shove the rest of them into boxes, then taking all of them into a new location only to have to figure out where all of them should go in the new space; it’s on the list of most mundane yet stressful life events a person has to put themselves through.

These were the feelings that hung around my being like a dark cloud for the past few weeks, but now, as I finally set my final knickknack in its chosen spot, I can feel the sun breaking through. I stand up and stretch as hard as I can, trying to wring the residual tension out of my spine. Even with my reduced number of belongings, it’s a lot of work to unpack them all, especially when working alone.

I didn’t have to do all the work myself. Within minutes of hauling stacks of boxes into my new house, I’d been approached by numerous rather colorful people, all very keen to lend a hand. As the newest neighbor in town, I was a curiosity to them, after all. I’d declined the offers, not wanting to place any burdens on the shoulders of my new potential friends. Looking back on it, that wasn’t my smartest move. Or maybe that’s just my aching muscles talking.

I’m dragged out of my tired contentment by the sound of a knock on the front door. Relaxing with a heaving sigh, I stroll over and peer out the peephole. Standing on my porch is a large, multicolored bird. My eyes dart to the plate of cookies balanced in her wings. With newfound excitement, I yank open the door and greet her with a smile.

The bird almost appears startled at this, the cookies on the plate jostling as she jumped. “Oh dear!” She shuffles the plate to her left hand, her right settling upon her chest as if to calm her heart. “You startled me for a moment!”

I give her a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Settling down, she waves her free wing dismissively. “Nothing to apologize for, I’m a bit prone to fright, is all.” As if remembering their existence, she extends the plate of cookies towards me. “I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood! I do hope you like them!”

“I’m sure I will!” I pull the plate from her grasp and hold it carefully to my chest, my mouth watering at the sugary smell. “They look and smell delicious, thank you so much…” I trail off, realizing in embarrassment that I never caught her name.

She seems to sense my hesitation, and beams in reassurance. “My name’s Poppy, Poppy Partridge.” I give her my name, mentally thanking her for the help. “It’s very nice to meet you, we haven’t had any new neighbors in a long time.”

“Really?” My head tilts to the side. “Why not? This place is beautiful.”

“Oh, I can’t say myself,” she sighs. “Suppose there’s just not much to around here.”

I shrug, trying to appear lighthearted. “It’s a pity.” She nods in agreement, and the conversation begins to lull. Not wanting to leave on such a sour note, I ask, “Out of curiosity, what do you like to do around here?”

“Me?” she squawks, looking taken aback. She fidgets with her feathers, her wings wringing around each other. “I suppose I like to bake, especially when the weather’s nice enough for a picnic.” I can almost see the lightbulb turn on above her head, and she turns her much cheerier gaze to my own. “Say, the rest of us were planning on a picnic this afternoon! Care to join us? It’d be a good time to meet your new neighbors.”

A sense of anxiety washes over me. The idea of being among that many strangers with such late notice flutters around in my stomach like butterflies. Without thinking, I begin to shift back and forth on my feet. “I… I don’t know, it’s very sudden…”

The bird wilts a bit, looking down at my porch. “Oh dear, it is, isn’t it? You must still be so busy with unpacking.”

I look up at her, my anxiety curdling into regret at her disappointment. I reconsider the situation. What’s an hour or two with a handful of strangers? There’s only nine houses in this town, counting my own, I can handle it. Having made up my mind, I shake my head. “No, no, I already finished unpacking. I’ll be there.”

Poppy perks up. “You will?” I smile, hoping she can’t see the hesitation in it. “That’s wonderful news!” She flaps her wings in excitement before stopping with a gasp of realization. “I have more baking to do, than! I’d better get going,” she says, turning to leave with one last wave of her big red wing. “I’ll see you soon, neighbor!”

“See you soon!” I shout back, waving with the hand that wasn’t clutching the plate of cookies. As she goes further from my field of vision, I feel myself slump, the excitement of a new friend and a batch of treats wearing off to remind me of my exhaustion. My hand falls limp to my side and I stare at the plate in contemplation.

Nap? Or snack?

I pluck a cookie from the tray and take a bite, feeling myself melt at the incredible flavor. I scarf the rest of the sweet down before heading back inside, picking up another one as I go. Maybe just a few before I rest up.

—————————

I snap up on my couch, almost falling off of it in my sudden awakening. What time is it? A quick glance at the clock on my wall reveals it to be mid-afternoon, and I throw myself off my resting place so fast I nearly hit the floor. I scramble to the window and see a small crowd of people in the distance, the sounds of talk and laughter wafting in through the glass. I let out a sigh of relief. At least I wasn’t… that late. After a quick change and a once over in the mirror, I hurry out the door and towards the picnic.

As I approach, the jolly sounds become clearer, with voices all chattering their cares away. Colorful blankets are scattered across the clearing, each rife with sandwiches and sweets. I really hope they aren’t upset that I didn’t bring anything. As I scan my surroundings, I pick out Poppy as she talks with a caterpillar and head in her direction, relieved at the semi-familiar face.

As if on cue, my way is blocked by a short girl in a pink dress dragging along a disgruntled looking man with a bowtie. “Ooh, you must be the new neighbor!” she squeals, bouncing up and down in place, hands flapping in front of her chest. “We were so worried you weren’t gonna come! I’m Julie Joyful, and this,” she says as she grabs the arm of the man next to her, “is Frank Frankly! Say hi, Franky!”

“Uh… hello.” I pondered briefly if I looked as awkward as poor Frank did as he gave me a small wave. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” I respond. As Julie begins to babble about her excitement, my eyes move to drift over the rest of the strangers. The vast majority are split off into their own small groups, with a single exception. Sitting on a bench under a large apple tree is a man who seems to be studying me the same way I’m studying him. One of his legs is crossed over the other, supporting his elbow as he rests his chin on his hand, staring at me with an intensity that sends a small shiver down my spine. And either I’m going crazy, or his lazy smile broadens ever so slightly at that.

I’m startled out of my impromptu staring contest by Julie, who seems to have noticed that I wasn’t listening and cranes her neck to see what I’m looking at. “Oh, have you met Wally yet?”

I shake my head. “No, not yet.” It takes all the willpower in my body not to meet those eyes that I can almost feel lingering on me.

The girl grins, grabbing my wrist. “Come on, you gotta meet him! I bet you two will get along like two peas in a pod!”

She begins to force me from my spot, and I feel myself start to panic. Before she can pull me away to the creepy man, Frank reaches out and stops her in her tracks. “Say, Julie, they don’t look too keen on it. Maybe they should take it slow, meet the others on their own time?” He gestures broadly to the snacks left sitting around. “They haven’t even gotten anything to eat yet, after all.”

Julie looks surprised at the intervention, a flash of guilt going over her face. “Oh my, you’re right, Frank! I’m so sorry, neighbor, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable!” At my dismissive hand wave, she changes course, instead pulling me to the piles of food. “Poppy told me she gave you some cookies, but just you wait ‘til you try her pie!” I turn to look at Frank, mouthing a ‘thank you’ at the grumpy looking man. He smiles a bit with a reassuring nod, and the three of us settle down on a blanket. For the rest of the picnic I eat while the two of them (mainly just Julie with the occasional comment from Frank) talk about all kinds of things.

I try hard to pretend I can’t feel the eyes burning into the back of my head.

—————————

The sound of a steady, rhythmic knock wakes me up the next morning. I rub the sleep from my eyes, noting with absent mind how high the sun had already risen. The three slow knocks reverberate through my house once again, and I roll out of bed and head towards the front door, not bothering to change out of my pajamas or even look through the peephole. This, as it turns out, is a bad move on my part.

I yawn as I open the door, only for it to become a strangled cough as I lock eyes with the one resident I didn’t want to see this early. The man, or Wally as Julie had called him, stood on my porch, his face as eerily relaxed as ever. His posture was straight, his clothes neat, his appearance put together; I don’t think he could be any more of a contrast to my current state if he actively worked towards it. Which, to be frank, I suspect he did.

Just like the last time I’d encountered him, the two of us looked as if we were having a staring contest. Unlike last time, however, this time he decides to break the silence. “Hi, neighbor.” His voice is soft and monotonous, each syllable dragging along in no hurry. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.”

Somehow, I doubt that. In an attempt to relieve the strange tension, I let out a stilted laugh. “Yeah, you did, but it’s fine. I overslept, anyway.” He hums in acknowledgement, and it takes a few long seconds for me to realize he doesn’t plan on responding. Eager to hurry along this interaction so I can dart back into my house and hide from those piercing eyes, I prompt, “Something I can help you with, Wally?”

He tilts his head. “I never told you my name.”

“Yeah, no, you uh, you didn’t. Julie told me yesterday. At the… the picnic.”

“Oh, right. You three looked like you had a good time.”

“We did! We did…”

“Hmm.” His smile stretches, looking pleased by that confirmation. “Well, I’m glad to hear you’re settling in okay. I’ve heard it can be awful hard to make new friends, but you have a way of drawing people in, huh?” Cutting me off before I can ask for elaboration, Wally continues. “Speaking of drawing, I was hoping you might join me for some painting today, down by the south woods.”

“Oh!” I blurt out, taking a moment to process the invitation. “I’m not exactly much of an artist, myself.”

He laughs, and it’s every bit as emphatic as the rest of his speech. “Oh, neighbor, that doesn’t matter. We all start somewhere, and besides, I’d like the company.”

I consider turning him down flat, but something tells me he’s a bit too persuasive for me to keep him at bay forever. With a grin so forced it hurts, I say, “Sounds like fun! I’ll be there.”

Wally’s head bobs in a slow nod, and he takes a step back from the door. “I’m glad to hear it. See you soon, neighbor.”

I return the nod and raise a hand in a brief wave. “See you soon.” His stare remains, and just as I ready myself to ask him to stop, he finally, finally, turns away and walks away, humming a quiet tune to himself.

I step inside and close the door, leaning my forehead against it as I recover from the encounter. My stomach growls, but I feel as though I’ve lost my appetite. The inexplicable dread in my heart squashes any hope of breakfast. I close my eyes, but even then I can still see his own staring back, unblinking in their ceaseless observation. With a shudder, I push myself up, trying my best to steel my nerves. It’s just a little art lesson, I chastise myself. So he’s a little spooky, it’s probably fine.

No matter how many times I repeated those three words to myself, the memory of those eyes seems to peer right through the lie.

[harrowharkwife]

thinking thoughts about how nona was so obsessed with crown, and crown specifically- not coronabeth. crown, with her boots and her cargo pants and her guns and her hair tied back, with all her charm and strength, all her rage and determination.

was that really just nona? or, walk with me here- is there a chance that that was actually alecto, too, bleeding through and rising to the surface?

alecto, seeing a kind of kinship in crown- in this big, tall, strong blonde with a sword strapped to her back, hot and lovely and kind and awful and powerful and perfect. this woman who refuses to give up- on her sister, on saving jody, on BOE's resistance. who's unafraid to throw one hell of a tantrum, if it means being listened to, for once. crown, who everyone thinks of as dumb, who everyone underestimates, who no one ever takes as seriously as they should, even though she's clearly capable of plenty of atrocities in her own right. this woman who's been described over and over again as someone who positively radiates life, and energy, and vitality, and strength. this woman who wanted nothing more than the chance to be herself, to be free, to serve as cavalier and guardian and protector, but was instead sentenced at birth to a life of being a princess and wearing dresses and looking pretty and loving less and staying out of the way and keeping her mouth shut and playing second fiddle to a necromancer obsessed with power and glory. familiar, no? this woman who was betrayed, left behind, left alone, and left utterly in the dark by the one person who's supposed to love her the most- only to then be told that being abandoned was in her best interest, really, for her own safety.

thinking about all the times we've seen ianthe insult crown's intelligence and praise her beauty in the same breath. you big dumb bimbo, what can you do? of all the times we've seen ianthe fussing over crown's appearance. thinking of the sister-lyctor makeover-montage ahead of dios apate minor, and how harrow hated every second of it, and how ianthe treated it like nostalgic second nature. thinking about the third house: fucked-up planet gossip-girl with all its betrayal and espionage and flesh magic and debauchery, three for the gleam of a jewel or a smile. thinking about the pressure that must have come with keeping up the double-necromancer ruse, about ianthe having successfully played the part of two necromancers from the age of six. exactly how much practice must that have taken? thinking about the casual, automatic, possessive, offhanded, violating nature of ianthe playing god and giving harrow a full head of fast-growing hair without asking, without even telling her, just to make harrow prettier, just to piss her off, just because she could. how she did it so easily, and without hesitation, almost as though she's maybe done that sort of thing before.

thinking about preservation. about a perfect body frozen in ice for a myriad, about ianthe spending all her downtime on the mithraeum figuring out how long she can keep an apple core in perfect stasis before the rot sets in.

thinking about corpse puppeting: a deceased world leader here, a trusted cavalier and friend you've known from the cradle there. about i picked you to change, and this is how you repay me? about she took babs. and who even cares about babs? babs! she could have taken me!

thinking about alecto, and hollywood hair barbie, and you have made me a hideousness.

thinking about crown, who's by her own admission boobs and hair and talk and a hell of a swordhand.

thinking about something as simple as stud earrings, and about how much grief ianthe gave her for daring to wear them.

nona loved crown.

something tells me that alecto might, too.

[phantoms-world-and-more]

Eldritch jazz

So while jazz was alive danny was taken by the GIW and jazz tries her best to free him.

But shes too late.

Afew years after danny was taken jazz finds the lab where danny should be kept at, she goes in and looks around, but instead she finds ruins and dust.

There are scratches and burn and frozen blaster burns everywhere, there was a fight but she dosent know who or what happened.

Thats where she hits a dead end, there are no more leads, no information, no witnesses, nothing.

Nothing to tell her where her baby brother went, the only thing there is a list of experments they ran on danny over the years, she couldnt get half way through the list before crying, thinking that her, sweet sarcastic little brother had to go through all that.

She lives her life half alive after that.

She married, got her PhD, had kids she adored and became a very respected woman in Phylogey. But she wasent always there

When she died her only regret was that she dosent know what happened to danny.

And became something other, when she passed, something strong and brutal.

Her ghostly obsession was to find and care for her brother or at the very least find out what happened to him.

She in her eldritch form traveled the infinite realms and found out that her brother is alive (dead) and was taken somewhere by something that took advantage that he was weak from experimentation.

She went on a rampage in the deserted lands when she found that out.

With the knowledge that her brother was in existence and possibly still suffering after all these years made her obssession roar and scream.

After months she managed to get a realm and name to where her brother is.

Klarion took her brother when he was in pain amd couldnt fight

And DC was the name of the universe her brother is in.

She found this klarion easily.

He liked to make a show of himself, show off his power and act like a spoiled 10 year old.

And he was using danny as a batery

He used her brother as a batery to fule his power.

She tore in apart in more ways than one, being a phyciatritrist had its percs

And for the fist time in years she saw her brother, his form has changed, now a 5 year old versin of himself, with blue galaxys in his eyes, pitch black hair and the most snow skin she's ever seen, but hes her brother and he's here with her now. And for the first time in its existence her core purred.

She changer too, after her death and over the years, her form was more of a concept then his was, like a bird and person together.

She picked up her baby brother and created a nest of sourts to keep him safe. She stayed with him for months, not leaving his side, jazz was glad danny seemed to recognise her even after all these years.

But she had to leave, she needed to cheak on afew of her informats and she didnt trust them around her baby brother. So she decided to leave him for a moment, an hour at most, just so he wouldnt become too co-dependent on her.

She shouldnt have left.

It was 30 minutes after she left that she felt it.

There were other people in her nest.

There were dangerous people around her still recovering baby brother. Her core and obssession driving and giving her more strength to get to him faster.

Whoever decided to get close to her baby brother is about to feel the furry of an older sister.

[jflemings]

PROMPT 18 JFLEM

— out of the woods

prompt: 18 “i’m setting you free” from this post

a/n: i had this fic almost done and then tumblr deleted all of it and i waited too long to re write it so here’s a way more angsty version 🙂 also y’all can thank @pixiesfz for the angst. its jail time for the absolutely CRIMINAL jess angst that was posted xx

“you’re being ridiculous!”

“i’m being ridiculous? jesus christ jessie, you never even brought up the fact that you were thinking about moving to another fucking continent until you accepted the offer!” you exclaim loudly, anger simmering in your chest as you follow her into her bedroom.

you two had been going at it for the past hour and you were quickly running out of patience. she had brought up the topic of leaving chelsea a little while ago but you didn’t anticipate her moving to a whole different league, especially when the two of you seemed to be settling down.

“i didn’t think it would matter!” she says defensively, turning on her heel to face you “you were all for it when i brought it up before”

you scoff loudly “yeah, all for you moving to a different club in the wsl! jess how could you not bring this up with me?”

the canadian turns her back on you once again as she opens up her closet to grab some shirts she knows she won’t be wearing. she practically rips them off their hangers and carelessly throws them onto her bed “i didn’t think i needed to. it’s my future”

you’re taken aback by her justification. she’s right, it is her future, but considering the conversations the two of you have been having since the world cup you had assumed that you would be included in it, or at the very least spoken to about it.

the two of you had talked about moving in together and even gone as far as looking at places that were within your budget, so for her to suddenly drop the news that she was moving to the nwsl was coming from nowhere. or so you thought.

“how long had you been thinking about this?” you ask sternly

the midfielder sighs and throws another shirt onto her bed “since november”

your stomach drops and betrayal quickly puts out the flame of anger flicking within you. your brow furrows and your hands drop in defeat “november?” you question quietly “i was looking at places for us to live and you were thinking about leaving?!”

“it’s the best thing for my career!” she continues to argue as she turns around with her arms thrown out wide “it’s not a personal thing, y/n”

“what about the best thing for us” you ask bitterly “what about our future” your words are coated in venom as you speak to her, the hope of this turning into a civil conversation being thrown out the window.

she looks at you with a blank look on her face, the silence suddenly deafening you as the two of you stand just staring at eachother. the longer she takes to answer, the more sick you feel. you’ve always encouraged jessie to put herself first, always told her to follow her heart, but it seems like you had been stupid to assume that whatever road she took would always lead back to you. in your head, the future of your relationship was well and truely concrete: you’d move in together, get married, maybe have a kid or two and end up loving eachother for the rest of your time on earth.

jessie shuts her eyes tightly just as you feel your own well up with tears.

you had been wrong and she was proving it to you right now.

“right” you laugh bitterly, digging around in your purse for a polaroid photo that you carried everywhere. it was of the two of you sharing a drunk kiss at zećira’s for her birthday last year. sam had walked up to you with a polaroid camera mid-kiss and captured the alcohol fueled pda with a loud laugh. jessie had pulled away from you in a daze, her cheeks flushed and eyes glazed over without a care in the world that she had been caught on film in what she would call a compromising position.

you threw the photo onto her bed on top of the numerous shirts “since you’re packing up your life and throwing things away that you aren’t going to be needing you can take that. i don’t want it anymore” you say quietly, malice and hurt present in your tone.

jessie’s eyes widen as you turn on your heel “what are you doing”

“i’m setting you free” you say as you approach her bedroom door for the last time “hope portland has everything that london can’t give you”

[sturniozo]

Savage Love Part Two

Matt Sturniolo x reader Mafia AU

A/N: I’m so happy y’all like the first part it’s insane!!! I have so many plans for this fic tbh hehe I have so much ready already but I want to finish tutor as well which only has a few parts left but asshhhhhh thank you guys for all the praise on part one you have no idea how much it means to me!!!

masterlist

“You’re joking.” Emma says. I just stare at her. “No fucking way. Matt Sturniolo took care of you while you were drunk! A total stranger!” She smiles. “That’s a scoop!”

“Yeah, it’ll get you something big.” I nod.

“Not me, you. Too humanitarian for my writings. But you, with your do good and help the planet and its people look on life…. An article about the most ruthless and powerful man taking care of a helpless stranger while she’s intoxicated! That’ll get you something big!”

I smile at her. “I’ll have to get to writing it fast. Kyler doesn’t like old news. I’ll need it out by tonight for it to be any good to him.”

Kyler is our boss, the editor of our newspaper. Even though it’s a small newspaper outlet, our boss is a hardass, and I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t fired me already.

~

I set the stapled sheets of the freshly printed article on Kyler’s desk.

“What is this?” He asks without even looking up at me.

“It’s my article. Matt Sturniolo has a soft spot.” I bite my lip and Kyler looks up at me, seemingly intrigued.

“Matt Sturniolo?” He asks. I nod and he picks up the article, quickly reading and flipping through it. I had made sure to not mention it was me that Matt had taken care of, and made it seem like another person had told me about it. “Where did you get this?”

“Anonymous source.” I reply. Kyler nods and hands it back to me. “Send it to print and have it on a middle column that’s free.” He looks back at his computer and I take the article and quickly leave.

I smile to myself as I take the article to print. I tell the guys exactly what Kyler told me to tell them and they nod, taking the article from me and shooing me away.

I go back to my desk and sit down, not able to wipe the smile off my face. I look over my computer and see Emma, on the phone with someone I assume is another person she’s crossed when writing an article about them after they slept together.

Not long before the end of the day, Kyler comes out of his office for the debrief. Everyone tells him their scoops and he gives them the yes or no. Then it comes to me.

“Do you think you can talk to that anonymous source again?” He asks me.

I hesitate but Emma answers for me. “She definitely can!”

“Good. I want confirmation on the rumors that Matt Sturniolo is the head of the Mafia in New York. Can you get it to me?”

“She sure can!” Emma answers for me again.

“Get me confirmation in a month. I want updates and articles until then.” Kyler demands. He then surveys the room before leaving back to his office.

“A month? How am I supposed to get that information in a month?” I ask Emma.

“Well, you have his number don’t you?” She tells me.

I sigh. “I guess.”

“You guess?! Use the number! Call him! He’ll do it now!”

“Really?”

“If you don’t get that article in within a month, Kyler will fire you!”

I sigh again and pull out my phone and the card Matt had given me. I dial the number and put it on speaker for Emma to hear.

“Hello?” The other end says.

“Hi, is this Matt? We met at the party, you took me to the hotel room when I was too drunk to stand?”

“Dollface, I’ve been waiting for your call.” Matt says and my stomach flips in circles. “Did you change your mind?”

I laugh softly before saying “I guess you can say that.”

“Meet me tonight at 7, at the hotel.”

“Alright.”

“Bye dollface.” He says before hanging up.

“Dude, that was so booty-call-esque.” Emma says and laughs. “I thought you weren’t a hook up type?”

“I not. But I need this story.”

“I know. I’ll help you.”

“Help me?”

“You’re going into my territory. You’re sleeping with people for information.”

“Not people, just Matt. And who know is he’ll even tell me anything.”

“Oh he won’t tell you anything. You have to pick things up on your own.”

“What?” I laugh.

“Like if he takes a call after sex, what he says, who’s in the other end. Or if he says he has a meeting, ask who with. And keep hooking up with him. The more you hookup, the more he’ll be willing to share with you.”

I take a deep breath. “I can do this. I can hook up.” I tell myself.

The truth is I don’t think I can just hook up. The only guy I’ve ever been with and had sex with was my high school boyfriend, who cheated on me and made me feel like I wasn’t good enough half the time we were together.

“You got this.” Emma says

Tags: @stargirlsturniololover @sturniolobessed @eyelessdemon @sturnioloenthusiast @sturniolopookie @urmommysbathroom @qwertytit @whatever1021 @chrisfavoritepepsi

[violettduchess]

A/N: I am so happy to be able to share my gift for the lovely @ikeromantic 💜 A deep dive into your blog told me you love AUs as much as I do so I was so happy to create one for our favorite Lelouchian.

Thank you to @ikemenlibrary and @sunnyikemen for hosting and for being supportive, accommodating and all-around superstars. 💜

Clavis x Emma

Magic AU, Soulmates AU, First Kiss, Enemies to Lovers

WC: ~2k

The sun is glowing a bright lemon-yellow as Emma closes the wooden door to her shop. It’s a beautiful door, made of dark walnut and decorated with silvery moons and stars. Across the top, the words “Belle Magie” are etched into the hard wood. At night, the lettering glows a soft gold. Humming to herself, she wraps her free hand around the ornate brass doorknob and a subtle, warm orange glow emanates from her fingertips. The moons and stars flash once and she hears a satisfying, soft whoosh of magic. The door to her shop is now locked via enchantment and no one except Emma will be able to enter and poke around at all the treasures that line her shelves and counters.

Smoothing down her ochre and black robes, she carefully makes her way across the cobblestone street to the shop that is literally across from hers. Her nose wrinkles at the sign that hangs above the wooden door: “Lelouchian Enchantments” written in swirling, silver lettering that she would say is barely legible. His note, written in the same dizzying writing, is clutched tightly in her hand as she pushes open the lavender-colored door with a celestial design nearly identical to her own. But that is where the similarity ends.

Whereas Emma’s shop is neat, organized by ingredients, everything with its own place and labeled in her own very careful handwriting, his is a gigantic explosion of almost anything one can imagine. Bottles filled with liquids of all colors and bottles with questionable things floating in them, dried herbs and seeds in pots and packets, a whole section of plants that bite anyone who comes near them, not to mention odd gemstones, vibrant powders, paints and feathers. She ducks underneath the silver vines that have wrapped themselves around the wooden ceiling beams, ignoring the way they contract and rustle their leaves at her, and approaches the counter where she finds Clavis himself, carefully sorting what looks like glittery kidney beans.

“I got your missive. I believe it broke in through my window in order to deliver itself.”

At the sound of her voice, he turns, golden eyes gleaming like copper in sunlight. He wipes his hands on the folds of his pale lavender robes, grinning slowly. She is forced to admit to herself for the millionth time that Clavis is hardly unpleasant to look at, per say. But oh, how he irks her, with his smooth words, flamboyant personality and flashy enchantments. 

“Oh dearie me, when I said it was urgent, I suppose that gave it permission to cause destruction. I apologize.”

She bats away several tiny golden motes that have taken an interest in her chestnut hair and Clavis lifts his hand, wiggling his fingers in invitation. The golden pinpricks of light float towards him, circling his wrist and then solidify into a gold bracelet.

Refusing to be distracted by his tricks, she unscrolls his letter and lays it on the counter.

“Well? Where is it?”

“So impatient,” he tuts as he kneels down, lifting an ornate silver box from under the counter. It’s about the size of his hand and she can’t help but watch the way he trails his fingertips over the decorative embellishments. He has such elegant hands.

One brow arches slowly as she crosses her arms, shoving that thought away and burying it in annoyance.. “Well…..are you going to open it….?”

He sighs theatrically. “Some people have no sense of showmanship.”

Her lips quirk into a small, involuntary grin. “I’m not one of the poor suckers who come in here for your tricks and potions, Lelouch. Now open the box.”

He tilts his head, clearly enjoying how much she is trying to hide her curiosity. His hand rests on the lid of the box but doesn’t move.

“Don’t you want to know the story of how I acquired such a treasure? Why, it’s a tale of mighty heroics the likes of-”

“No. No, I do not.”

He pretends to be offended but the light in his eyes gives away the truth. 

“But it involves a goblin merchant from Benitoite and a heartsick wizard from the Jade Forest and-”

“And a dragon and a sea witch and a bloody one-eyed pegasus. Clavis, just open the box!” 

He laughs and it is the needle deflating the balloon of irritation that had overtaken her. She’s never met anyone with a laugh quite like his. It’s almost musical, but in the way of the inviting, simple melody of a children’s song. Something that stays with her, imprinting itself on her mind.

“Such an impatient pumpkin.”

“Don’t call me pumpkin.” The response is automatic, a reflex built over the long while she has known him. The first time Clavis had seen her do magic and seen the yellow-orange glow her magic emanates, he had bestowed her with that aggravating nickname.

Nimble fingers curl over the lid of the box and then he lifts it, revealing a round, milky-white stone nestled into a bed of black velvet. It reminds her immediately of the moon against a starless night sky.

She tilts her head quizzically. “This is the all-power Amor Lapis?” She had imagined something called the “Love Stone” being far more ostentatious, something pink or red and wild with sparkles. Something that would take her breath away. This stone, while pretty in its own way, looks rather ordinary.

“Such a skeptic.” He lifts the stone from its box, holding it in the palm of his hand. “It will only glow when two soulmates have found each other.” He lifts his gaze to her, his smile playful. “Know any perfect couples?”

She rolls her eyes, reaching out to touch the stone. “There’s no such thing as a perfect-” Her fingers brush Clavis’s palm and suddenly, the middle of the white stone begins to brighten, a soft glow radiating out from the center.

She jerks her hand away even as he nearly drops it. Her heart roars to life, knocking wildly around inside her chest.

Neither of them move and then, at the same time they both do, Clavis uncharacteristically fumbling to put the stone back in its box and she taking several steps back, one hand curling into the velvet folds of her cloak.

“It’s broken! It’s clearly defective!” Why does her voice sound just a bit shrill to her ears?

He clears his throat. She’s rarely seen him so rattled.

“It….oh dear…..maybe it is.” He frowns, staring down at the stone, at the dull, cream color of it, no glow to be seen. Then he draws in a breath, one that even she can hear shaking and looks at her. There is something unfamiliar in the depths of his sunrise eyes.

“We should try that again.”

“Try what again, exactly?”

“Touching.”

She should be balking at the very suggestion. 

She should already be halfway out of his crazy shop. 

She shouldn’t be stepping closer again, her gaze jumping from the stone back to him and then back again. 

And she really really should not be saying-

“Alright. To-to prove its deficiency.”

The smooth, dark counter is a barrier between them, one that feels like armor, something that will protect her although what she needs protecting from is uncertain, some nebulous thing forming on the edges of her consciousness, some unknown dream rising from the shadows of slumber.

Clavis then holds out his hand, palm up, his gaze meeting hers. Her heartbeat drums wildly through her veins, a rhythm she has never known before. Slowly she lifts her hand and places it in his. His skin is cool and smooth, soft in a way she would not have expected. Emma can feel his magic just here, flowing through him. It feels shockingly calm, not the wild chaos she thought it might be but soothing, like the scent of lavender, the soft pastels of the sky at sundown. She can feel her own magic responding, warming as it flows through her.

Beneath their joined hands, the Amor Lapis begins glowing again, a soft white light like a tiny flame igniting inside the stone. Her heartbeat roaring in her ears, she slowly withdraws her hand from his and watches as the glow dims and then, when they are no longer touching, winks off like a tiny candle snuffed out by a breeze. When Emma has gathered enough courage, she raises her gaze from the milky-colored stone to Clavis and her heart trips over its own beat. His eyes rival the glow of the stone, something new burning in their golden depths. The light of revelation. The light of truth. The light of desire.

When he finally speaks, his voice sounds soft, breathy in a way that causes Emma to bite the inside of her lip at the sound.

“Dearie me,” he murmurs, his gaze locked with hers, bright with an intensity that feels almost physical. “If that happens when we touch hands, imagine what might happen if we actually kiss.”

The word lingers between them, shimmering in the air like desert heat over sand dunes. Emma unconsciously licks her lips and Clavis’s gaze drops there, fast as quicksilver. His own lips part slightly as he stares at the full curve of her lower lip, the sweet bow of the top. His own voice, his own words, echo like thunder between them. 

….if we actually…..

….kiss….

Emma hasn't moved, hasn’t said a word, her soft eyes wide as a deer’s startled by a sudden, unexpected sound. And then he realizes what he said, what he has actually suggested and shame floods him, a tsunami of embarrassment that washes away the glimmer of hope, the clouds of desire that had overtaken him. 

What the hell was he thinking, talking like that? As if someone like her, someone so intelligent and kind and talented, someone beautiful inside and out, would ever be soulmates with someone like him. Forget soulmates, she doesn’t even like him. 

He hangs in head, soft twilight locks falling across his forehead, his knuckles white as he grips the counter with trembling hands. Stupid. Idiot. Never good enough. Never smart enough. Never ever would he be enough for someone else.

“Nevermind, I lost myself for a moment.” The words are acrid on his tongue and he feels the hot wash of color staining his cheeks and neck. “Obviously, there’s no way–”

Her hands are suddenly gripping those warm cheeks, pulling him towards her, forcing him to lean over the counter, above the stone, where she presses her lips to his. The Amor Lapis explodes with radiance, a tiny supernova encased by smooth stone. Even with closed eyes, Emma notices the brightening of the light but right now, she does not care. Because right now, she is holding Clavis’s face in her hands, and she is falling falling falling into kissing him.

At first he freezes, shock turning his blood to ice water in his veins. But then he realizes her mouth is really there, pressed against his, and then the burst of light automatically closes his eyes and the shock begins to thaw.

Now all he feels is the warmth of her kiss, the tentative movement of her lips and he gasps, reaching across the counter to touch her. Cradling each other’s face, they kiss, at first slowly, drinking in the fragile newness of the sensation, the unveiling of the truth that has been growing in both their hearts, quietly. Steadily. And then novelty slowly turns to pleasure, to desire. He grows bolder, sliding a hand down to the nape of her neck, holding her there so he can part her lips and sink into the sweet taste of her. If this is a dream, may he never wake up.

Emma sighs against him, a sound that echoes the twinkling of diamond-bright stars in a black velvet sky. All this time….all this time she’s been falling in love and never even realized it.

Minutes pass. Or maybe hours. Neither of them can say when they finally pull away from one another. Breathless, light-headed, floating, they both glance down at the Amor Lapis. The stone is luminous, glowing like a tiny moon dropped from the heavens. 

And it will continue to give off its beautiful light, for the rest of their days.

Tagging: @xbalayage @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @portrait-ninja @ikesimpleton @mastering-procrastinating @namine-somebodies-nobody @queen-dahlia @scorchieart @nightghoul381 @bubblexly

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

hiiii its me again!! i used to have terrible insomnia so this would be such a comfort fic for me what would uppermoons do with a reader who has insomnia? its obvious she needs to sleep but just can't, how would they get her to sleep?

Insomnia

Forgive me for answering requests slowly yall😭🙏🏾 anyways enjoy this one!!

Warnings: gn!reader, gender natural reader, insomnia mentioned, comfort, slight suggestive on Akaza's part but only as light humor, bathing with douma lol

Akaza

"Y/n. Did you hear what I said?" Akaza said, close to your ear to get you to concentrate. You stopped fiddling with your fingers and slowly turned to Akaza. "Huh? I'm sorry I didn't... what.. what did you say?" You slured your giggled in exhaustion.

Akaza looked at you with worry, hearing your tired giggle, your head tilt to the side, and your eye lids, forcing themselves to stay open. "You've been like this for a few nights now. You need to rest. It's not healthy to do this," Akaza said while fluffing up your pillow behind you and fixed the blanket over your legs. "A few more minutes?" You softly asked, but you could tell by the look on Akaza's face that he wasn't going to allow it.

"Can I touch you?" He asked innocently but then quickly realized how that could've been taken in a different context. You giggled when Akaza cleared his throat and shook his head to correct his words better. "Stop giggling... I didn't mean it like that," he sighed. "I asked you because I wanted to give you a massage. When a person can't sleep, it's because there's a lot of stress, and that can affect the body, which prevents you from having a good night's rest," Akaza said.

You hummed in response. Work has been overwhelming for you lately, especially when most of the work was defendant on you. The extra hours you had to work during the day weren't helping either since you'd barely make it home before 5pm.

You couldn't lose this job, and the anxiety built up more and more. When you get home the only thing on your mind is that you can finally sit down after standing for so long and have a good meal but what was always forgotten and even pushed away from your mind was sleep. You didn't think anyone else would notice your exhaustion. However, Akaza has a way of knowing just when to take care of you and how to do it. "Yes. I'll allow you to touch me," you flirt and lay down on your stomach.

Akaza gave you a warm smile before closing your window and then blew out the candle. He wanted to make the room as dark as possible so nothing could distract you when you closed your eyes. You felt the bed dip in and a squeak sound when Akaza sat down. You turned your head back for a moment to make out his dark figure in the room and squrmed a little when you felt his warm, big hands press on your lower back.

You felt the pressure of his hands pressing down, having one hand on top of the other, and began to make circulator motions on your back. "This type of message is meant to relieve deep stress you may have," Akaza said, continuing to do the same motion on your back, and you sighed in relief and hugged your pillow. Akaza's hands did different techniques and movements during the massage, and you felt the tension leaving your body.

You yawned and closed your eyes. His touch felt calming, you felt yourself falling into a deep sleep while having this nice night time massage on your back. Once Akaza noticed you were sleeping and hearing your soft snors, he leaned down and kissed your cheek. This was definitely something he's going to continue to do to help you sleep.

Kokushibo

At first, kokushibo assumed you were having hormonal changes to prevent you from sleeping, but that wasn't the case. He'd be able to sense if that were, but it wasn't that. Kokushibo has told you his house is yours and you're free to do what you want, so long as you stay in the house, but as the nights went by, he'd notice you sleep patterns.

Kokushibo didn't think to much about you sleeping with him during the day and assumed you had things to do at night but he also found it strange how you'd take fast naps around 11pm-12am and just do nothing. It was clear on your face that you needed to sleep. You grew more confused when you wake up and forget to do basic things for yourself.

You'd walk slower around the house as well. Your eyes would always be looking down at your feet as you walked instead of looking straight ahead. Seeing you force yourself to stay awake when you can barely keep your head up due to the unbalanced sleep schedule became alarming to Kokushibo.

You know kokushibo doesn't speak out on something unless it needs to be addressed, and because kokushibo cares about you, he couldn't let this continue. One night, when you were walking around the house and staring at your feet, you stopped once you saw Kokushibo's feet in front of yours. You slowly lifted your head up to look at him. "Is something wrong, Kokushibo?" You asked. Kokushibo narrowed his eyes, and now, being this close, he can see how dark and baggy your eyes have gotten.

"Yes... something is wrong," Kokushibo said and lifted his hand to cup your cheek, dragging his thumb on your cheekbone. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, even putting your hands on his. "I insist you mediate with me," Kokushibo bluntly said and used his hand to straighten your head up to look at him properly.

"That's a new suggestion. What will medication do for me?" You asked. "Mediation gives you a sense of calmness," he said, taking his hand from your face to grab your hand and lead you back to your shared room with him. "I... can tell by your aura that you aren't calm. You aren't relaxed... I'm not sure what you're thinking about, but it's affecting you physically i can see," he said.

Before living with Kokushibo, you've always had trouble sleeping. You didn't have a good idea how to fall asleep without doing it this way, staying awake until you're dead tired however this wouldn't work as well as you think it did since you're only human.

You need to sleep during the night and stay awake during the day. This was something kokushibo knew and could see it was now a mistake to let you sleep with him during the day since he sleeps during the day because he's a demon.

You plopped yourself on the futon. "Copy me and do as I say." Kokushibo sat himself down, criss-crossed with his feet flat on the floor. You copied until you heard kokushibo clear his throat. "straighten your back." He said, and you did as he said. "Good... now close your eyes.. and take slow, deep breaths," Kokushibo said and watched you do as you told.

"I don't think I'm doing this right... I'm just getting sleepy.." you said. "The swordsmen use this as a useful way to master total concentration breathing constant in their sleep. You aren't a swordsman, and It will take time for you to fully master meditation, but the goal now is to relax your mind and body," He said and pays close attention to you. "Breath in... and out. In.. and out. That's good. You're doing good y/n"

Mediation wasn't something you'd think would help, nor has it crossed your mind, but doing this for 10 more minutes did help, especially with hearing Kokushibo's deep, calming voice. You repeated the process for a few more minutes until you decided to lay down. You weren't too sure if this was allowed during mediation, but you also didn't hear kokushibo correct you on anything.

Kokushibo placed his hand on your forehead to see if you'd react, but you didn't. You were asleep, and that made Kokushibo proud. This is something he will be suggesting to you more often before you sleep at night.

Douma

Douma didn't see a problem with you staying awake at night, nor did he really care. At first, he was impressed to see a human staying awake this late since he knew most humans needed their bed rest at night. Douma used this opportunity to speak with a human who wasn't a slayer out to kill him or a cult member he needed to help and talk to you at night for hours on end.

His delusion kept feeding into his head that you could stay awake like this even longer until he started to notice your facial changes. You wouldn't smile as much and had a long face. Douma would start to feel some concern, but that concern would go away, and he would let you do what you wanted to do.

Douma noticed even more changes. Your eyes were so droopy that it almost looked like you were rolling your eyes to the back of your head when you looked at douma. He found it troublesome to see you looking at him like so he finally said something. "Y/n, maybe you aren't good at staying awak," Douma laughed but in the moment having some concern. You shake your head "no no I'm fine. I can stay awake." you said.

Douma folded his arms and hummed in question. "I don't think so. Humans who stay awake for too long can die. It's kind of funny how fragile you humans can be from just the lack of sleep." Douma playfully pokes at your arm and watches your body almost fall over the bed. "How about we take a nice bath!" Douma suggested. You knew Douma loved baths. His favorite baths are the scented ones, and you also knew if you took a bath right now, you'd fall asleep on the spot.

Explaining to Douma why it's hard for you to fall asleep no matter how tired you were was pointless but it was also pointless to refuse his offer since this is the one time he's actually showing concern for you. "Fine fine," you said and immediately got picked up by Douma.

You gasped and held onto him. "You really didn't need to do that," you said and looked at Douma as he carried you in his arms to the bath house. "I did though" he pouts "your body is so tired you woukdve been wslking like a zombie to the hot springs" he said. You found it werid at first to be sitting on his lap, naked in the hot springs but nothing werid happened, he just happily holds you and rests his chin of your head.

"Did you know in a hot springs the water is supposed to help your body? It's not like regular water you'd use for bath," Douma said. You chuckled at the random fact that you already knew, but he was serious. Douma thought this bath and the nice hot steam could relax your body to help you sleep faster.

"Douma.. let's go back," you said and rested your back on his chest. "If we do, you'll just stay awake again. If you fall asleep, at least you're in my arms so I can carry you back." Douma smiled and kissed the top of your head. You fell asleep moments later, and he takes your unconscious body out of the water, back to the room to dry you off and put you in comfortable clothing so you can sleep.

Nakime

Nakime keeps her opinions to herself. She will notice the change around her but won't give her opinion unless she's asked for it. It was clear to Nakime on how tired you are and how you're keeping yourself awake when it's obvious you need to sleep. She knew you had trouble sleeping, but it was becoming concerning to her as the nights went on.

"It's pretty late y/n" Nakime said, having her back to you and sitting at the opened door with her biwa in her hand. You look up from your book while laying down on the futon and see her long, beautiful black hair flow with the calming wind as she sits at the door.

"I know. I'm just not tired," you lie and flip your page to your book. "Are you trying to tell me to sleep, Nakime?" You asked and went back to reading. "I was merely just stating a fact. It's not my business whether you stay awake or not. This is my time to stay awake," she said. Nakime doesn't mean to sound harsh. She's just bold. She still cares about you and finds it unsettling how you force yourself to stay awake when you need sleep.

She doesn't know the reasoning why, but she had to think of something to stop this unhealthy sleep cycle. A cool breeze comes into your room, and that was the moment Nakime started playing her biwa. The tune was different. It's not like any of the songs she's played in front of you and even felt relaxing. You look up from your book again and close your eyes, listening to the song "Hey, is that a new song?" You asked, but Nakime doesn't respond.

Nakime had the idea to play traditional Japanese music specialized to help people relax and sleep on her biwa. It was a song she taught herself in her past life. She didn't think this type of song would be of good use, but luckily, it came in handy. Nakime didn't turn back to you and continued to play her song until the end. She sighed, This song also relaxed herself and made her chuckle when she realized that.

Nakime looked over her shoulder and saw your head finally rested down on the pillow. You were sleeping. Nakime put her biwa to the side for a moment to take the book from your hand and pakcing it in its correct spot and then covers your body with the blanket. Nakime will be playing this song every night to get you to sleep properly.

[ndjournal]

How’s your dream going?

it’s been a while since i’ve heard about you!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Dearest anon, my dream is well and peaceful although I am indifferent to it either way now which is what makes it peaceful and effortless :)

I considered writing a post on my learnings but was a bit hesitant because it's just another version of an experience that's already been spoken/written about many times before and there's nothing particularly special about this one. However, since you've asked, I will share some things about my journey and what has helped me personally which might help other Vanessas/versions of me out there. Please only take what resonates, my journey is not a blueprint for all journeys however I have noticed some commonalities in truth seekers.

The biggest thing was quite literally giving up entirely. I actually wrote a post on giving up about 3 months ago when I was earlier into this 'journey' and I still agree of course with what I wrote however I would write it differently if I were to write it now (it would be a more expanded version); perhaps I will write a part 2 although this answer here can sort of be taken as a part 2. You see, this Vanessa's life was quite comfortable in general so when she started on the ND path, while she was very determined to "get it", I wasn't motivated or entirely willing to give her up. We spent a lot of time letting go of concepts and limitations (and that definitely helped later on so I'm not saying it's not helpful, do what resonates for you!) and Vanessa/the ego was becoming subtler and subtler but it was still something I held onto. There was still identification with not much motivation to give it up entirely - sure there had been desire and interest to 'materialize' things but when we gave that up too, there wasn't anything. I was still lost in Maya despite the dream not being all that captivating or enjoyable.

Then quite literally life circumstances all of a sudden threw some major curveballs and Vanessa was terrified despite all that she had learned - it felt like all knowledge had suddenly disappeared and she had absolutely nothing to hold onto. After trying various things and going round in circles trying to keep everything at bay, the only thing left that really resonated was to quite literally give up on everything - it felt like there was no other option for peace but to do so because she was so mentally exhausted and drained from caring about every single thing that it was so much more appealing to be nothing and no one, to just BE… oh just the thought of being nothing and no one was freeing.

4dbarbie's words here gave Vanessa a lot of strength and direction (although her answer there was for a new identity, I did not use it for that as it was exhausting to even think of a new identity. I just wanted to be nothing and no one, that was most peaceful)

Give UP: It is what it is and 'you' can't do anything about it. Just let it all happen, we all die one day and it's over anyway. Worrying, fearing, doubting, striving, searching, desiring - how tiring, you would much rather sleep a hundred years. No matter what, you can't force life to give you what you want. Allow everything its being and leave it alone. Expect nothing from your body or mind. Let them do whatever they want, cease caring. Literally dgaf, if life wants to beat you, just let it beat you. (Ever had a bully? They get bored when you stop reacting and they leave you alone. They may increase the strength of their punches at first, but so what? You're already getting bullied... you can do nothing about it but cease caring and let it happen.)

And also this from 4dbarbie helped me understand the indifference that I had to embody:

I did not fake a lack of disturbance, I just let things happen to 'me' painful or not, I did not try not to react, I just didn't get involved emotionally with what was going on because I was tired, completely, of both desiring and being scared. The emotions didn't interest me anymore, I became indifferent to whatever was happening, neutral. If 'I' got what I wanted, whatever, if I didn't whatever again. I didn't try to change anything, the events just passed without leaving a 'footprint', all the bad/unwanted things had no reverberations anymore, it was like they never existed. Then there comes the idea of: what if they never actually did? And you fiddle and play with that a little. It's just play because you don't really care anymore, it's a real feeling of being unaffected, it's not manufactured because you aren't trying to get anything, not even 'realization', you want nothing anymore. This detached feeling, of needing nothing - it brings a lot of power, try to at least reach that and worry about the rest later.

She knew she had to stop trying to fight life but she was afraid of what would happen if she did stop trying. Eventually she got exhausted and had nothing left. Then no longer wanting/searching/trying to make happen any particular outcome or caring anymore, just pure indifference being in the present moment with no conditions/labels/problems is what gave her peace and then things just starting to ease up on their own. Things even happening on their own with just a random thought without any particular input.

I realized all the practices that Vanessa did before the curveballs had a 'doing' intention, a 'purpose' behind them (quieting the mind, self-realization, dropping beliefs etc) while afterwards, the same 'practices' were engaged again but with the intention of just being with no labels, no agenda, just being nothing and no one and this made all the difference - when you are no longer doing anything - you are not the doer/body/ego/mind; you're just being with no identification and no longer care about anything. And the indifference here is not forced or pretend like she used to have before as a defense mechanism, its genuine true indifference and full acceptance of everything (see the second 4dbarbie excerpt above - understanding and experiencing this subtle difference will help a lot).

The reality only comes when you give up yourself, when you give up your ego, when you give up your needs, your wants, trying to make something happen, desires, when you give up trying to become self-realized, when you just give up. - Robert Adams

Life is just a giant mirror of your Self. When you stop fighting it, it will stop too. But you have to be the one to initiate it. It takes courage and faith for sure to take that leap.

It has no choice but to die. What you take to be reality is the same, take away your identification and it soon ceases to be. - 4dbarbie

It can be easy to get lost in the dream again if you get caught up in the 'materialization' aspect - it's all still a dream even if forms change. Lester also talked about this in No Attachments, No Aversions:

I knew these things were not to be latched on to. I knew that if I got interested in them, I'd stop progressing. I had seen by this time that this world is a mentation - a dream. So to get interested in the dream again through interest in powers would trap me back into what I was wanting to get out of. - Lester Levenson

Also remember these things happen on their own, it's not the ego that's doing any of this and Self doesn't 'do' - Self is just effortlessly being. There's no 'doing' involved. If there's effort, it's ego as Lester said.

Now when I read my past blog posts or read Lester or Robert, there's an entirely new level of understanding and resonance with their words from before. This excerpt from Silence of the Hearts speaks more on what I was experiencing as well.

Let go of everything. Do not hold on. Stand naked before God, without any crutches, without anything to hold on to. There comes a time in everyone’s life when they have to stand naked before God. By standing naked I mean no scripture, no fancy words, no preconceived ideas, no spiritual intellectual knowledge. - Robert Adams

Perhaps without those curveballs, Vanessa would have continued to live in the illusion like an NPC in a Sims game until something like that happened to her and forced her to completely give up on everything and stand naked before God (her Self).

A day will come when you will long for the ending of the dream with all your heart and mind, and be willing to pay any price; the price will be dispassion and detachment and the loss of interest in the dream itself. Once you have seen that you are dreaming, you shall wake up. - Nisargadatta Maharaj

Now I know all happens by itself and I am just witness to it all. To all Vanessas out there, I know you got this. Follow your heart and trust in what resonates! And remember not to compare yourself to others, we are all One. Everything will be okay 💜💜💜