#there's no excuse for forcing yourself on people or guilt tripping them into it!

[aemondsbabe]

From Ashes, Fire | Claimant Pt 3

summary: dragons take what they want, you and your brother are no different. but what will be left to burn in the name of happiness?

pairing: dark!aemond x sister!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dark aemond, angst, angst but happy ending, very cersei/jaime coded moment that's all i'll say, major character death, noncanonical death, very brief descriptions of injury, blood, i promise it's nothing graphic, reader turns to the dark side lol, piv sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), minor breeding kink, possessive aemond, possessive reader, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 8.3k oops

a/n: this is it, the grand finale! i had so much fun with this series and i hope y'all enjoy the last bit!

gif creds to @aemondtargaryensource

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🔪read part 1 and part 2 here!

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"Love is the bane of honor, the death of duty."

“Jaehaera, please,” Helaena’s voice is gentle and melodic even as she scolds her daughter, pointing at one of the straw-stuffed dolls in her tiny hands, “You must share with your brother; how about you let him play with the knight, hm?”

One of Maelor’s little fists wraps tightly around your pointer finger as you chuckle at the displeased frown on the toddler’s face when she shoves the doll in Jaehaerys’s direction, though her lips quickly lift into a smile at her mother’s praise. 

“Good, that’s very sweet of you,” your sister smiles, watching her eldest two children play, sitting cross-legged beside them on the plush blanket she’d had spread out on the grass. 

A cool breeze blows through the grassy field while you idly look around at the many red tents and campfires, observing the groups of people gathered around – knights sat at one of the many wooden tables, a few servants peel vegetables brought from the Keep, and various nobles, lady’s maids, and other court patrons shuffle about. 

Taking a deep breath, you turn your face toward the sun, cooler now as day turns to evening, and savor the first moment of peace you’ve had in nearly a week. The days since your marriage to Jace have been… eventful, to say the least, with each new duty feeling like another stab to your already fragile heart. Respite hadn’t even found you in the night, each one spent fending off your new husband’s advances with excuses of your menstrual flux having come early, headaches, and various other ailments. He was getting anxious, you could tell – each night he pushed back a little more, arguing the importance of consummating the marriage, reminding you of the vows you had both uttered in the Sept. 

But how can a vow mean much if the Gods know it was only ever a lie?

You had felt your mother’s eyes on you at every turn, watching you and your brother like a hawk. Though as the days progressed her fiery stare cooled to one of guilt – a penance for subjecting you to the same fate that had befallen her. You suspected that was why she and Rhaenyra had organized this little trip; a celebratory hunt they’d called it, to commemorate the rift between your two families finally being healed. 

“Dear, dear wife,” your oldest brother slurs, goblet clutched in one hand as he staggers toward you and Helaena, groaning when he flops down on the bench next to you. “Oh, you look… ravishing,” your lips quirk up into a smirk as he drapes an arm around your shoulders, giggling and making faces at Maelor. 

“What did I tell you,” your sister says through a huff of laughter, violet eyes finding yours, “They ignore you until they’re drunk.”

If only that were the case, you think as you force yourself to laugh in time with her. 

“That is quite rude,” Aegon chastises, brows furrowed in offense while he takes a messy swig of wine, a few red drops run down his chin. “Do you see how she treats me?” He pouts, leaning closer to you with a wry grin, “The deed is done though, yes? Bastard knew where to put it?”

“Aegon!” Helaena hisses, swatting at his knee. 

The two fall into a playful round of bickering, thankfully leaving you out of it. With a sigh, you let your gaze wander again, tumbling thoughts muffling your siblings voices. 

“It’s not as hard as it looks, here,” Daemon’s voice catches your attention and you watch as he points a knife at the belly of a deer he and Lucerys had hunted earlier in the day, showing the boy where to cut, “Get your knife in there – good, like that, and now just cut downwards, one clean movement…” You glance away as blood spills from the beast’s abdomen, staining the grass below it.

Looking over the treeline, you try to ignore the sick feeling building in the pit of your stomach, though you know it won’t be settled until Aemond’s back at camp. Biting at your lip, you let out an irritated huff when you can’t make out any movement in the distance, no sign of your brother or Ser Criston, even your husband. 

You’d only spoken to Aemond once since your marriage – a hushed conversation hidden away in an alcove when the two of you had a spare moment alone after supper. He’d held you while you’d cried against the crook of his neck, shushing you and running a soothing hand up and down your back. You remember the way his jaw felt, teeth clenched as he rested it atop your head, letting you tuck yourself into him while he vibrated with barely contained rage. 

“I can’t do this, I can’t,” you lamented, peering up at him with a mournful sob as your fingers clung to the dark jacket he wore, “They’re planning on going back to Dragonstone! Dragonstone, Aem!”

“Shh, little one,” his hands had cupped your cheeks, wiped away your tears with calloused thumbs, “I’m not letting them take you.”

His words had held such conviction, you’d wanted nothing more than to believe him, yet you’d shaken your head anyway. “I don’t think there’s any stopping them, this time,” your breath had hitched with each word, “You heard Rhaenyra, they’re leaving as soon as we’re back from the hunt and she would never agree to leave Jacaerys here, never.” 

You had known you were spiraling, head spinning as you’d looked up at him, and yet the words tumbled out anyway. “I hate him, I wish he’d just… just disappear!” It was a childish little jab and yet, your heart had leapt into your throat the moment you’d said it. You were expecting to feel the clawing ache of guilt gnaw at your stomach, however, a weightlessness followed. You’d never felt lighter than in that moment – tucked away in the shadows, a secret you’d harbored since childhood finally set free.

Aemond had stayed quiet, but you saw the way his violet eye sparkled, the gears turning in his head.

Your words had echoed in his head, calling out to him like a siren’s song – the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. 

Finally convinced that the three men are truly not just going to materialize at the edge of camp, your gaze shifts to where your mother and Rhaenyra sit, huddled together beside one of the many firepits. Bouncing little Maelor on your lap, you’re vaguely aware of Aegon and Helaena idly chatting beside you, something to do with how your brother believes some such thing about the Small Council is a waste of time – a frequent complaint of his since taking the throne. 

You’re hardly listening though, head cocked to the side while you watch the two women laughing and animatedly conversing; they remind you of the young girls at court – youthful and carefree, too wrapped up in one another to notice much around them. 

That’s why she let them go together, that shadowy voice in the back of your head hisses, Too distracted to know better. You clench your jaw, only halfway aware of the stinging pain at your cuticle as you dig a nail into it.

“What say you to accompanying me on a hunt, nephew?” Aemond had asked earlier in the afternoon, voice low as he slunk over to where you, Jace, and your mothers had been sitting at one of the wooden tables, picking through a light lunch the cooks at the Keep had prepared.

“Aemond,” Alicent had sighed wearily, leaning heavily on her elbows while Rhaenyra regarded your brother with a cool indifference – evidently unaware of your family’s tensions. 

“What? I merely wish to bond with my dearest sister’s new husband.”

“Uncle,” Jace had finally spoken up, pointedly grasping one of your hands that had sat on the table, “As much as I would love to accompany you, don’t you think it a bit unwise for only the two of us to go? If I remember correctly from my youth, your father used to take a whole host of men into the woods with him…” 

“Do you not think yourself man enough to take on a measly buck, nephew?”

“Aemond!”

“Don’t fret, mother. ‘Twas only a joke, a tasteless one, I admit,” your hackles had raised at that, at how quickly he had stood down, so wholly unlike your brother, “Besides, I’ve taken the liberty of asking Ser Criston to accompany us as well.”

It was then, at the mention of the knight, that Rhaenyra had leaned closer to Alicent, the two of them laughing softly and sharing knowing glances while your half-sister whispered into her ear. 

“Surely the three of us are more than capable of subduing a deer or two, don’t you think?” 

Jace had balked at that, sighing heavily as his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly. 

“I think it sounds like a wonderful idea,” you had coached your lips into a tight smile when you interjected, “Doesn’t that sound like a lovely idea, mother?”

“Hm?” She had blinked, finally parting from Rhaenyra, the ghost of a smile still on her lips. 

“For Ser Criston to accompany Jace and Aemond, to go hunting with them.”

“Well, I –”

“Surely that would be safest, yes?” You pushed, glancing at Jace before locking eyes with Aemond, “A knight with them, a Kingsguard no less.” 

“I think it sounds like a fine idea,” Rhaenyra had smiled, squeezing one of your mother’s hands, “They should take the time to bond, no? Savor it while we’re together these last few days.” 

“Yes… yes, a fine idea,” she had immediately agreed, always swaying to your half-sister. 

“Wonderful,” your brother murmured, a slow smile spreading across his lips as he clasped his arms behind his back, “I’ll have Ser Criston ready the horses.” With that, he had stalked away, giving you one final glance. 

“You truly think this a good idea?” Your husband had questioned, turning to you while your mothers got lost in yet another hushed conversation.

“Of course!” You had nodded, clasping one of his hands in both of yours, “Aemond is… odd with his affections. This is just his way of attempting to rectify things, I’m sure of it.” 

“I suppose…,” he had sighed, running a hand through his dark hair.

“It’ll be fine,” you had urged, going so far as to lean over and press a kiss against his cheek, one of the scant few times you had initiated any affections. 

Those words had echoed in your head while you watched the three men sheath their swords and load various bows and arrows onto their horses, the midday sun suddenly feeling much too warm against your skin. 

It’ll be fine, you had reminded yourself for the millionth time when they set off, horses galloping along a narrow path that led into the Kingswood, He’s not letting them take me, it’ll be fine. 

“Oh, shit,” Aegon whispers beside you, nearly dropping his goblet. 

You quickly follow his eyeline, looking to where he stares at one of the small paths that lead into the camp – the sight wrenching a hitched gasp from your throat. 

A hush seems to fall over the entirety of the camp, only for the quickest of seconds, before chaos erupts. Aemond stands before one of the horses, a grey one you recognize as Jace’s, steadying it while Criston pulls your husband from the saddle, smearing the side of the animal with thick streaks of red. 

Daemon quickly runs over to assist while you hastily hand Maelor back to Helaena, hardly looking in her direction as you do. 

“Jace? Jacaerys?!” Rhaenyra calls, picking up her skirts as she sprints over, violet eyes wide with terror, “What is it? What’s happened?”

Every noise sounds muffled when you make your way over to the huddle of commotion, Alicent following closely behind. A strange detached sensation fills you while you watch Criston and Daemon lay Jace down on a nearby bench, blood immediately soaking into the silk fabric of the pillows. 

It feels as if everything is happening both too quickly and too slowly all at once – a few of the other knights rush forward, hastily pulling his tunic out of the way before pressing stark white medical linens to the gaping cut on his side. They bark orders over his body, yelling for the servants to bring water and more linens. 

You feel your mother and Helaena grabbing at your arms and it’s only then you realize you’re shaking, swaying in place like a leaf on a branch; you know they’re talking to you but their words are dulled by the rushing of blood in your ears.

Somewhere in your periphery, you register the sound of Daemon’s voice, thick with desperation as he shouts question after question at Criston, “What happened? When? How? How long ago? How could you, you were supposed to protect him?!” They blend together, echoing through the haze in a roaring hum. 

Distantly, you register the feel of another warm body pressing into the small pack you find yourself a part of. Helaena shushes someone next to you and your gaze tears itself away from the pools of crimson gathering on the grass just long enough to realize that it’s Luke. Your heart breaks at that, a sharp pang in your chest at the fact that the poor boy is distressed enough to seek comfort from your family, of all places. 

���No! No, no, no!” Rhaenyra’s wails slice through the fog clouding your mind in such an exacting manner that your knees buckle, “Jace, Jace, look at me, please? Sweetling, please look at me!” She sobs, leaning over her son, one hand cradling his cheek. 

Unseeing brown eyes stare, unblinking, up at the hazy orange sky while yours focus solely on a single, paralyzing flash of violet. 

He’s not letting them take me, it’ll be fine. 

The Sept is eerily quiet, normal for this time of night but unsettling all the same; the occasional fizzling noises of the dozens of flickering candles is the only way you’re able to discern that time hasn’t simply halted. Pale moonlight shines in through the windows, bathing the floor in a star-shaped pool of light and making the whites of the painted eyes resting atop Jace’s face glow like beacons. 

You had picked out the stones and painted the eyes on them yourself, taking them from a spot in the gardens you knew he had favored when you were children and spent hours sourcing the pigments to make just the right shade of brown – one that reminded you of the rich chocolates that had been imported from Essos for your betrothal feast. 

“A wife’s duty,” your mother had said.

Rhaenyra had glared at you the whole time; silently, you wondered if she somehow knew it wasn’t duty that drove you – only atonement. 

Atonement, your mind echoes as you sit upon the cool stone steps beneath the Seven-Pointed Star, leaning your head against the bannister as you force yourself to look at his body, still atop black silks. 

Must one feel guilt to atone? Must I atone for not feeling it? When will it end?

Those questions had plagued you in the days since Jace died, bled out like a hunter’s boon in the field by the Kingswood. They’d settled over you like a fever, an ever-present haunting ache, made only worse by the soft, sinful voice in the back of your head that whispered the truth – that you didn’t care, that you don’t even now. 

You hadn’t cared, even as blood seeped from the gash at his side, even as you forced yourself to kneel by his still warm body and press gentle kisses to his forehead – the performance of a good wife. 

You hadn’t cared in the carriage ride back to the Keep, letting your mother and your sister hold you while you cried – I’m sad, I’m sad, I’m crying because I’m sad, I’m crying because I should be sad.

And you hadn’t cared when Aemond had come to you in the dead of night, had slipped into your chambers – your chambers – through one of the many hidden passageways in the old castle. 

“How?” You had asked, tracing patterns onto the pale skin of his bare chest while the two of you laid tangled in your silk sheets. 

“A boar,” he answered plainly, speaking through a sigh while running his fingers over the thigh you had draped across his hips, “Just as I’ve told you the last four times you’ve asked.”

“Aemond,” you sighed in that same tired tone your mother so often used; your eyes had narrowed when you saw the corner of his lips just barely twitch up into a smile; were it any other time, he would’ve made a cheeky comment about the similarity. 

“I’ve told you,” his grip tightened ever so slightly on your thigh and his other hand had grasped at your chin, guiding your eyes to his, “We had been tracking a buck, had gotten close and dismounted our horses, and had, I assume, stumbled into the beast’s territory and it charged at us.”

“Brother,” you had whispered, shaking your head and cupping his cheek, “Have you forgotten that I can tell when you lie?” 

He had stayed silent for a long while at that, jaw clenched while he stared at some point off in the distance, lips drawn into a tight line. Eventually, you had laid your head down, resting your cheek on his shoulder while you tried to accept that you wouldn’t be getting the truth that night, if ever.

It was only then that he had spoken.

“Please, let me protect you.” 

“Protect me?” You had looked up, brows furrowed as you studied his face, “From what?”

“From the law –”

“Our brother is king, if he says it was not murder, if he says it was an accident, which he already has done, then no one will question his –”

“Fine, then,” he had snapped, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, “From the damn Gods! I…” He trailed off, sighing heavily while he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“... the Gods?”

He’d finally looked at you again and your heart had pinched meanly in your chest when you saw tears gathering in his violet eye, “They will judge me harshly for what I’ve done, whenever the time comes, but… I will not subject you to the same fate.”

You had scoffed at that, had rolled your eyes when he looked away shamefully and had climbed atop him then, straddled his hips and turned his face toward yours, “I don’t give a shit about the Gods.” 

“What?”

“I don’t,” you repeated, leaning down until your forehead touched his, “If they were good Gods, if they cared, they would not have subjected me to that sham of a marriage in the first place. They would’ve guided our mother rightly, but they didn’t.”

“Sister, I –”

“And I hate that our nephew paid for that, Aemond, I truly do, but I am the one who told you to do it.”

He had shaken his head while a mournful peal of laughter clawed its way out of his throat, “You didn’t tell me to do any–”

“Perhaps not directly,” you interjected, smiling sadly while you cupped both of his cheeks in your hands, running a thumb over the scar beneath his eye, “But I did. I could’ve told you not to, could’ve said I didn’t mean it, could’ve cautioned our mother against letting him go with you, but… I didn’t.”

“No… no, I suppose you didn’t,” he sighed, swallowing thickly as he tried in vain to blink away tears.

“I didn’t,” you echoed, your words hushed and cooed, like a mother soothing an infant, “I know what you’re capable of, I knew it then, and I didn’t.”

He nodded, his breath stuttered in his throat as a single tear rolled down his cheek. 

“Because I knew you’d protect me… and you did.” 

“I did,” he mumbled, nodding up at you as his face twisted and a small sob bubbled from his lips, “I did, I did it. I did it, I did. For you, for us.” 

“I know,” you murmured sweetly, stroking a hand over his long hair while you pressed sweet kisses against his forehead. You held him as he cried, huddled together in the dark of your chambers 

And you hadn’t cared when you realized you were smiling. 

“The hour is quite late, little one,” the suddenness of his voice makes you jump, though you settle quickly. 

“So it is,” you smile and look over your shoulder, tilting your head up while he walks down the steps to join you, “The hour of ghosts, yes? Fitting.” 

He huffs as he sits beside you before regarding you with a slight smirk, “I suppose it is,” he murmurs, only sparing the red and black draped body on the altar a passing glance.

“Why are you here?”

“I was looking for you… Hel said you would probably be here.”

“Mm,” you nod, idly running a finger over the pattern on your skirts, finding a morbid sort of beauty in the way the rich black silks glimmered in the candlelight. 

“Why are you here?” Aemond asks, eye following the line of your profile. 

“Praying.”

Without looking, you can practically feel him rolling his eye beside you, huffing a little breathy laugh again, “Have you forgotten that I can tell when you lie, sweet sister?”

Hearing your own words from the night before parroted back to you pulls a laugh from you as well, though you wince as your giggle echoes throughout the Sept. “It’s funny,” you sigh, glancing about the cavernous space before finally looking at him, “This is the only place where no one wants to be.” 

He hums next to you and nods his head, lets the two of you sit in silence for a moment before you continue. 

“I don’t have to pretend when I’m here.” 

“Pretend?” 

Biting at your bottom lip, you nod and lean into his touch when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “That I’m sad… that I feel anything, really,” you sigh, breathing the words more so than saying them, “All Rhaenyra does is cry, Daemon is ready to strangle anything that moves, Lucerys is despondent to the point of being mute. Even our own mother cries for him and I cannot muster a single tear that isn’t a farce.”

Your eyes trail back over to Jace and you regard him with a mournful stare, staying silent for a long moment as you try to will yourself to feel sad, to feel angry, to feel guilty… yet nothing comes.

“Everyone grieves differently,” Aemond mumbles beside you, though his words only serve to make you more bitter, “Perhaps, in time –”

“In time nothing will happen,” you snap, grimacing at the harshness in your voice, “I’m not sad and I am… I’m tired of pretending I am.” You murmur, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

Aemond is quiet for a long while, though you can feel the energy radiating off of him in waves – you’ve always been able to tell when he has a lot on his mind. You’re content to simply let him think, taking his silence as a cue that it’s your turn to let him sort through things. 

“You… are happy, though? Yes?” He finally asks after several long minutes, going strangely rigid next to you as if he’s afraid of your answer, “I know you say you aren’t sad but…”

“Aemond,” you sigh, sitting up and staring at him as a slow, creeping smile spreads across your face, “I have never been happier.”

“Truly?”

“Yes!” You quickly shift yourself on the stairs, turning yourself more toward him and placing a gentle hand on top of his thigh, “Big brother, you saved me.”

He opens his mouth to speak but you don’t let him get a word in edgewise before the emotions you’ve been bottling up over the last few days finally spill over and you practically throw yourself into his lap, straddling his hips. 

“Brother, I've been tethered to him since I was eight and you have freed me from that,” you say softly, voice hardly carrying in the air. Slowly, carefully you pull his eyepatch off, the only one ever allowed to do so; there is a sadness in your smile when you gently trail your fingers over the crease of his scar, “We both lost something that night and have suffered for it ever since.”

Without another word, you press your lips to his and savor the groan your kiss pulls from him. His hands grab at your hips in the same instance yours card through his hair while your lips move together in a practiced rhythm. 

Impatient, one of your hands travels down his chest and stomach, though you hardly have time to pull at the hem of his dark tunic before he grabs your wrist, stopping you. 

“Aemond,” you huff, fighting against his grip. 

“Surely you don’t mean to defile this place in such a way,” he murmurs, violet eye sparkling as if he were challenging you, even as he glances over your shoulder, “What would your dear husband think?

You grin at the lecherous smirk on his lips, heart pounding in your chest as a familiar ache settles at the apex of your thighs. You give one final glance over your shoulder before turning back to him with a dismissive shrug. “Husband in name only,” you remind him, yanking your hand out of his grasp and trailing your fingers over the growing bulge beneath his trousers, “I have only ever been devoted to you.”

A rough growl leaves his lips and he clenches his jaw, narrowing his eye. “We will burn for this, sweet sister,” he huffs, pale cheeks flushing while he stares up at you, one hand still settled on your hip as the other comes up to cup your jaw. 

“The Seven can have their say,” your cunt clenches at the way he looks at you – surprise, lust, even reverence giving such an intensity to his gaze that it nearly knocks the wind from your lungs, “The Old Valyrian Gods can as well, I don’t care. Aemond, I don’t.”

Your hand finally, blessedly, pulls free the ties at the top of his trousers and you quickly find his length. The sharp grunt that’s wrenched from his throat when your hand wraps around it echoes through the Sept, each iteration of it making the fire in your belly burn brighter and brighter. 

He doesn’t attempt to stop you when you plunge a hand beneath the fabric of your black skirts and hastily tug your smallclothes out of the way, he merely studies you in awe, as if watching a newly hatched dragon spread its wings for the first time. His gaze makes you shiver, though you dare not look away.

“What do you care about, little one?” He murmurs suddenly, unable to help himself from glancing between your bodies, licking his lips while he watches you use your fingers to prepare yourself as you rub your own slick through your folds. 

“You,” you whisper, shuddering at the way you both gasp at the same time when you rut against his already throbbing length, “You are the only god I’ve ever worshiped, big brother.”

A loud groan bursts free of his lips at that and the hunger in his eye nearly catches you alight, and yet he still grabs at your hips tightly, preventing you from sinking onto his length – so out of his element, wholly unused to being taken in such a way. “Come, let us go to my chambers,” he tries, breathing your name against your neck as he leans up, “Where I can take you properly, hm? No risk of anyone interrupting…”

Undeterred, you simply shake your head and lean forward, pressing your lips against his in an eager, near feral kiss. It’s mostly teeth and tongues and thankfully, it’s enough to shock him into loosening his grip, just enough for you to take what you want. You bite at his bottom lip when you sink down onto his length, hard enough to taste iron, making him growl into the kiss, the sound of it deepening to a low groan at the feel of your tight cunt around him. 

The feel of his cock stretching you open somehow only gets better each time and leaves you gasping in his lap, your hands grabbing at his shoulders for leverage while you begin grinding yourself against him, impatient and ravenous. “Ohh, f-fuck,” you curse, squeezing your eyes shut while your walls flutter around him. 

Aemond’s chest heaves under your hands while he stares up at you, lips parted ever so slightly as breathy groans spill, unbidden, from them. Opening your eyes, your gaze is immediately drawn to a little smear of red beside his mouth and you lean forward – licking his pale skin clean without a second thought. 

“Little minx,” he smirks, meanly grabbing at your hips again and bucking up into you. He huffs a soft laugh at the sharp moan that bursts from you, sounding louder still in the large open space of the Sept; there’s a dangerous, challenging gleam in his eye that makes you shiver. “Go on, then,” he rasps, trailing a hand up from your hip to cup the underside of your breast, his touch warm even through the bodice of your gown, “Worship your god.”

A soft, stuttered moan wrenches itself from your lips at that and you quickly obey, staking your claim over him. As you find your rhythm, rutting wildly in his lap, the only sounds echoing off the walls are that of panted breaths and the slick, wet noises from where the two of you connect. “You’re mine,” you breathe, leaning forward to bite at his throat, determined to mark him in as many ways as possible, “Y-You’ve always been mine, Aemond.” 

He nods his head, hands scrambling at the ties on your bodice, determined to free your breasts. “I’m yours?” He taunts, sighing victoriously when he finally manages to practically rip the top of your gown open; his tongue darts out, wetting his lips at the sight of them and he allows himself a few seconds to appreciate the way they bounce so enticingly with each of your determined movements, “Show me, then… show me who I belong to, sweet sister.”

Something snaps inside you then, breaking and clicking perfectly into place all in the same breath; the feeble thing that was holding the dam inside of you shut disappears. Whatever greedy darkness Aemond has always harbored within himself has been slowly seeping into you since the night of your betrothal feast and now, it seems, it has finally settled into your bones as well. It’s as if he can sense it in the same instance you do and gives a subtle nod of his head, commanding you to give in. 

With renewed vigor, you grind against him harshly, pressing your hips as far down onto him as you can manage until you can feel his cock pressing against the entrance to your womb. The thought of him there, of the possibility of his seed catching, of the possibility that it may already have, spurs you on further. 

“I would kill for you, too,” you say lowly through clenched teeth, licking up the side of his neck until you can whisper into his ear, “I’ll do anything to have you, my love, I don’t care what it is.”

A low groan reverberates from within his chest, both of you all but snarling as you move together; his hips rut up against yours, unable to hold still any longer, and he bites a path down your neck until he reaches the softness of your breasts. You gasp as he teases at one nipple, flicking at it with the tip of his tongue while his fingers toy with the other one, only to cut yourself off with a loud moan when his lips seal around it. 

“I would burn this city to the fucking ground if that’s what… what it took, brother,” the words tumble from your lips when you card your fingers through his hair, cradling the back of his head and holding him against your chest. Your head tilts down, heart pounding in your chest while you watch him savor the feel of your warm flesh in his mouth; his violet eye snaps up and his gaze bores into yours, making your cunt clutch greedily at his length. 

Feeling the knot building quickly in your belly, aided by the way your sensitive pearl brushes against the small patch of hair at the base of Aemond’s cock, you only grow more needy – craving confirmation that he is yours, that no one will be able to take him from you again. Your breath catches in your throat when you recall a conversation the two of you had had a few nights ago, the night of Jace’s death.

The two of you had been cuddled in your bed together, panting in sweat-damp sheets, when he had cupped your cheek and turned your face to his. 

“What is it?” You asked, familiar with the faraway look in his eye – God’s knew where he could’ve been in that moment.

“Marry me.”

His whispered demand had knocked the air from your lungs then, the whole world may as well have come to a grinding halt on its axis. “Aemond, we must wait, you know this. I hate it as much as you do but –”

“We need to wait for a Westerosi wedding, yes,” he murmured, leaning over you and shushing you with a soft kiss, “Too soon and it looks suspicious.”

“But –”

“But… a wedding in the tradition of our house need not wait, little one,” the determination in his eye had shocked you then, had warmed you from the inside out, “Our sister and her cunt of a husband hardly waited until Laena and Laenor were cold before they married… we could do the same.”

You had stayed quiet after that, too much death and change and uncertainty clouding your mind to give him an answer, and yet you knew he was right. Rhaenyra and Daemon had married in secret, so soon after Laenor’s sudden passing that it had always seemed a bit odd to you. Yet, no one ever questioned it; your own father had accepted it without so much as a blink, writing the marriage into law with no fuss. Aegon would do the same for you, you felt certain. 

Nothing was stopping you, nothing that mattered, anyway. 

That thought fuels you now as you rock on Aemond’s lap, both of you barreling toward your eventual ends. Your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging him away from your breast despite his growl of displeasure. Just as he had with you, you cup his cheeks, focusing his attention on you. 

“Marry me.”

The rhythm of his hips hitches at your words and he fucks up into you harshly, moving you more desperately against him as another loud, guttural moan echoes through the chamber. 

“Tonight,” you continue, brows furrowing as you stare at him, greedily drinking him in, “I cannot wait any longer, brother, tonight, please…” 

A vicious, conquering smirk grows on his lips, white teeth gleaming in the low candlelight like a snarling dog. “You wish to be mine, is that it?” He teases, reaching between your two writhing bodies to rub hungrily at your pearl, savoring the pretty breathy moans he earns. 

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish speaking as an unrelenting, all consuming possessive ache starts spreading out from your heart, flowing through your blood vessels like fire. “I don’t wish it,” you pant, forehead resting against his while the wildfire burning in your belly threatens to burn you whole, “I told you, I would kill for you and… and, fuck, I swear it. A-Aemond, no one will have you ever again, never, none except me…”

Your words descend into a barely intelligible murmur as you finally let go, pushed suddenly over the edge at the thought of being so tightly bound together that no one would be able to tear the two of you apart again. Your brother growls again at the feel of your cunt pulsing around him, the movements spurring him toward his own end. 

He grabs at you when he follows you into oblivion, holding you against him as if you’d disappear otherwise. The feel of his spend spilling into you, filling you, nearly sends you over the edge again and you cling to him just as harshly, holding him while he trembles beneath you. 

“You are a vicious little thing,” he says softly after some minutes, holding you against his chest while the two of you catch your breaths.

“I learned from the best.”

He only sighs at that but you don’t need to look at him to know he’s smiling. “I would do it again for you,” he mumbles, eye fixed on Jace, “I would do it a thousand times over.”

He speaks in a reverent whisper, promises of death and destruction as sweet as a prayer on his lips. 

Aemond’s hand is warm in yours as he leads you through the winding corridors below the Red Keep, the flickering light from the torches lining the walls making the various statues and reliefs dance in your periphery. 

“I’ve always hated that he’s down here, stowed away,” he murmurs, yet his voice still carries some among the stone hallways.

“Mm,” you hum in agreement, glancing into each shadowy alcove you come across while you try to ignore the wild beating in your chest – the way your heart clenches at the thought of finally being so close to what you’ve always wanted. “Yes, he should be out in the sun, somewhere he can be celebrated.”

The old cellars under the Keep have always seemed so haunting to you, so cold and empty. The thought of the walls down here being lined with the ashen remains of generations upon generations of your ancestors had never failed to send a shiver down your spine. Yet, they unfold before you now like paradise; even the still, musty air begins to smell as sweet as honeyed wine. 

For the briefest of seconds, guilt joins you – walks alongside you, invisible like the Stranger. A stuttered heartbeat, that’s all and then it’s gone, at the thought that Jace would join them tomorrow, still warm from Vermax’s fire. 

How ironic, you think, glancing up at your brother and admiring the way the light gleams on his sapphire eye, That a place that holds so much death would be where our lives finally begin.

“I don’t want to wait any longer,” you’d said again, retying your bodice while Aemond tucked himself back into his trousers and searched for his eyepatch.

“Nor do I,” he agreed, stuffing the small scrap of fabric into a pocket – the streets of King’s Landing would be deserted enough at this time of night that he could get away without wearing it. “Tensions are bound to rise after tomorrow, after everything is said and done; I don’t want to leave anything to chance.”

You had nodded and followed him out of the Sept, through one of the many old, forgotten tunnels that only a scant few knew existed, the list of which definitely didn’t include the guards stationed at the front of the building who had escorted your carriage earlier that evening. 

While he had helped you onto the back of his horse, the two of you shared a knowing look, each of you already thinking the same thing. 

Turning down one final corridor, your heart thuds in your chest as you’re finally met with Balerion’s petrifying gaze and, just like every other time you’d been in his presence, a little huff of reverence leaves you. Your eyes dance over the rows of his razor sharp teeth, gleaming in the glow of dozens of candles, and you can’t help but imagine the horrors those jaws have inflicted, the pain they wrought while subduing the continent – all in your family’s name. 

“Targaryens have always taken what we’ve wanted,” Aemond murmurs beside you, staring up at the gargantuan skull with just as much respect as you are, “Tamed our desires in fields of fire.”

“And rivers of blood,” you turn your heads at the same time, soft smiles on your lips when your eyes meet, like you’re sharing sweet words of love rather than painting pictures of horrors. 

Perhaps that is what wrath is for us, you wonder, your eyes flicking between violet and sapphire when you turn toward your brother, What is death if not the sweetest of devotions?

He takes your hands in his, glancing down when your fingers intertwine before looking back up at you; you can feel yourself blushing under his intense gaze, heart squeezing in your chest as he looks at you like that in and of itself is an honor. There’s such softness in his eye, you would think him incapable of violence if you didn’t know better. 

“You truly wish for this?” He questions one last time, needing to be sure. 

“I’ve told you, I do not wish,” your hands squeeze his, “I need this, Aemond… I would kill for you, for this – for us. Anything, just as you did.” 

Your voice trembles when you speak, the intensity of your hushed promises making your head spin because you would. The want you feel, that you have always felt, is not some soft yearning thing. It’s not so simple as some mere whisper uttered in the dead of night at a holy altar while your skin is awash with the glow of candlelight, no. 

No, your want is something far more insidious – something deep-seated. An oppressive, clinging thing that has always coaxed you further and further down into that shadowy part of yourself; the part that has always reminded you too much of him. 

The demon, lurking in your periphery, that has always begged you to look, has tempted you since childhood with the sweetest of promises, finally rejoices. 

Aemond nods, a satisfied smile pulling at the corner of his lips, and you watch as he lets go of one of your hands to unsheath his dagger. The sight of the worn leather handle makes you smile bashfully, though your core clenches all the same, and you gasp when you feel another drop of his seed soak into your smallclothes. 

“You know the words?”

Again, he nods and your head cocks to the side curiously when a wash of pink grows on his pale cheeks; he smiles again and fixes you with that same intense stare. “I used to spend hours reading them, over and over, when we were children,” he whispers, leaning closer to you like he’s revealing some deep, dark secret, “I always wanted to get them perfect for you.” 

A little peal of laughter echoes through the cellars before you swallow thickly, trying to tamper the tightness at the back of your throat as the backs of your eyes sting, tears pooling in your waterline. He cups your cheek and you smile when he brushes one away, a pleased hum leaves his lips when you nod. 

Aemond raises the dagger, glancing between its shining blade and your lips while you ready yourself, one hand clenching at the black silk of your skirts. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises. 

You hold stock-still, gasping when he presses the cool edge of it against your lower lip, yet your eyes don’t leave his when he finally cuts – nicking your delicate flesh just enough to draw blood before offering you the dagger. Grasping it, you mirror his steps exactly, just as careful with him. 

Setting the dagger to the side, you both reach up at the same time, swiping a thumb over your own lip before reaching out. Your arms intertwine when you brush each other’s foreheads, leaving behind two crimson lines. 

His gaze never breaks from yours as he takes the blade again and carefully cuts his palm, holding it out to you again and waiting while you do the same, gasping at the sharp sting. Finally, the two of you join hands, blood mingling together as a few drops of it splatter on the stone floor as Balerion bears witness to your union. 

“Hen lantoti ānogar, va syndroti vāedroma, mēro perzot gīhoti, elēdroma iārza sīr,” he recites, murmuring the words with care, making sure to enunciate each syllable, to make the vows unmistakeable to whichever ghosts may be listening, “Izulī ampā perzī, prūmī lanti sēteksi, hen jeny māzīlarion,” (Blood of two, joined as one, ghostly flame, and song of shadows. Two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires, a future promised in glass.)

Aemond pauses, taking a breath as he squeezes your hand with his, echoing your smile.

“Qēlossa ozūndesi, syndroro ōñō jēdo, ry kīvia mazvestraksi,” he finishes, all but breathing the last few words as his eye grows misty. (The stars stand witness, the vow spoken through time, of darkness and light.)

The two of you stand still for a moment like you’re waiting for the world to crash down around you and you can feel his heart beating in time with yours as your palms press together, both of you seemingly in shock at finally, finally having everything you’ve ever wanted. 

You can’t tell who moves first but suddenly you’re crashing against him, dagger clanging as it hits the floor, while the two of you clutch at one another desperately, uncaring of the blood smearing on your clothes. 

Your lips press against his like they’re a lifeline and you moan at the touch, swiping your tongue over his while you grab at the lapels of his jacket. His hands cup your cheeks, staining one with red, before carding through your hair. 

“Gods,” he groans, resting his forehead against yours while the two of you pant, breathing out soft laughs. “My little wife…” He says the word slowly, lets it drag over his tongue. 

“Husband,” you reply between soft kisses to his cheek, head spinning at how a word that once had to be dragged from you, that had scraped against your skin like thorns, now felt like silk slipping cooly over you. 

Your brother growls deep in his chest and his eye flutters shut for a second before his hands are at your waist again and he’s walking you backwards, only a few paces, until you’re pressed against one of the stone columns surrounding the great dragon’s skull. Though your landing is soft, it wrenches a gasp from you all the same but you don’t have time to question his intent before his lips are on yours again.

You moan into the kiss, matching each of his deep groans with one of your own as your tongues tangle together. “Aemond,” you pant when he begins trailing kisses down across your jaw and neck, “What –”

He nips at your cleavage then and you can feel him smirking at the loud whine he pulls from you, soothing the skin after with a sweet kiss before sinking to his knees before you. The sight is enough to make you weak – the man that loves you more than eternity itself, who loves you enough to do terrible, monstrous things, kneeling at your feet and staring up at you like you are his salvation. 

Your hands tangle in his soft hair while he pulls at your skirts, pushing them up and out of the way, kissing your thighs as he goes. “You had the chance to worship at your altar, sweetest little wife,” he pants, groaning when he pushes your smallclothes to the side and licking his lips at the sight of your cunt, still wet with your combined spend, “Now let me worship at mine.”

That’s the only warning you get before he dives in, lapping at your center with a loud, satiated growl. Your head thuds back against the column while your eyes are fixed, half-lidded, on Balerion, on the fire that surrounds him. 

You understand, then – the curtains of fire that blanketed the continent were necessary to conquer it, just as blood was necessary to bind the two of you. Perhaps one day you’ll be called to answer for that, but even then you would do it a thousand times over; even if the dark, shadowy parts of yourself, of him, lead to the deepest pits of the Seven Hells. You would do it, again and again, for him. 

You were always meant to burn together.

thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)

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[galene-gothic]

𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝖺 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎?

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗             PAID SERVICES

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 1 ꒱

Some sort of an event happened in the past, that's what people are discussing. Whatever happened seems to have caused you a lot of confusion. I honestly feel like people were purposely trying to cause chaos in your life in order to have some drama in their lives. These people seem to either have been/are close to you or just a close witness to the situation. They're saying good things about you, they're talking about how you released your sorrow, resentment or just negative emotions in general. They're saying that you've left your past behind. I just heard 'this boy', I have no clue but the drama might have included some boy. They're saying that your motivation and enthusiasm are returning now. They're saying that you've accepted the situation. They're saying that you're choosing to focus on the positives of life. They're saying that back then you were trying your best to have a positive attitude towards life and make what you could out of it. They might have witnessed you crying or expressing your sorrow, anger or whatever on the verge of tears. They're talking about how you've grown out of it. They're saying that you've grown to respect yourself now and have a lot of courage. The people who put you in such a situation might've been victimizing themselves and might've successfully guilt tripped you to a certain extent but you seem to have recovered from the guilt. They're talking about your endurance and your morals. They are saying that your views have changed or seem to have changed. There's another group of people, likely the ones who made you go through such a traumatizing time. They're saying that you lack self-awareness. They're saying that you only care about yourself. They're saying that you've not accepted what you've done and believe that you've been falsely blamed. I'm getting that it's because while some of it was your fault.

The way they dealt with the situation and treated you was much worse plus they seemed to just need an excuse to criticize you when they weren't even that affected by the situation. People who had nothing to do with the situation might've gotten involved too. Like, supposing you dated your friend's crush, the whole friend group might've turned against you when it didn't even affect them at all. Some of you might've trouble regarding education, some of you might've been forced to drop out or dropped out on will too, for the rest, you're just having difficulties with your studies. People are talking about it. The people who legit pray for your downfall are saying that you have unrealistic dreams and plans. They're saying that you don't have realistic goals and lack the motivation and discipline to work on your career. Someone saying that you're not someone who wants to work solely for money, you're not the type to be like 'as long as I get money, I don't mind giving up on my dreams' or atleast that's what they think and are talking about. Whatever everyone is saying seems to be assumptions mostly. People from the past who know nothing about who you've grown to be. I'm getting some sort of a pause for you. Gap year from work, education or social media. People who literally have nothing to do with you are gossiping about how you lack direction in life. For those of you who aren't dropouts or are not taking gap years, you might give really vague answers when asked about what you wish to do in the future. You might say things like "I haven't thought much about it yet" or "we'll see" or you might be unsure about what field to study next and you might accept it and sometimes vocalise it "I am not sure what to take yet". People wait for you to post so that they can have something to discuss or make fun of. People from the past are slowly beginning to see that your perspective is changing and you're gaining enlightenment.

The tea here isn't about what they're saying, it's more about how fearful they are of your growth and how many people have their eyes on you. People who literally do not know you but know the people or one of the people who tried their best to traumatize you tend to follow you, your friends, your love interests, etc. just because they're obsessed with you. Like, these people went off to college in the same or different places while you could not afford it, their college mates and friends follow you, the guy you were seen hanging out with, etc. I'm getting a very karmic vibe here. I'm not sure what or when but them looking at you and talking shit about you is weighing them down and lifting you up, little by little. Things are rebuilding for you. You're independent and friendly and the new people in your life see that. You know, the first few days at a new school, college or work. If you're pretty, you realise that you're pretty because of the way people act towards you and the things they say. You might suddenly have those moments "maybe, I am even more attractive than I originally assumed". People are obsessed with you and watching you. They're trying to strategize your every move and keeping tabs on you. Someone here legit dreams about getting a revenge on you and some imagine being better than you, being chosen by someone over you. Even if people do not say that they're mad at you due to external validation from people, they make it obvious and they literally form bonds based upon their jealousy masked as hatred towards you. They're mad because of the support you receive from others. Some of these people regret it because they never imagined you actually leaving them and letting go of them completely. While, one of them was definitely praying on your downfall and still is, the rest, they were just trying to poke some fun to excite themselves. The tea is that people have so many different assumptions about you at this time because they have no clue as to what you're doing, who you're with, etc.

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 2 ꒱

Some of you here are from Pile 1, someone here is praising you, they're saying that you're mature and grounded. I think that this is someone close to you because you actually do seem to be this way. They're saying that you're generous and social. They're saying that you're practical and care about material objects. They're saying that you have a good nature and intentions. They're saying that you're nurturing and emotionally intelligent. One hint as to who is praising you, it is someone you've talked to when you didn't do your routine or felt unproductive. You likely told them that you didn't get your work done that particular day and they likely told you that it's okay to have those days as long as you do not make it a habit. Some of you might be balancing between two or more different streams of income and they're saying that you are trying to harvest better time management skills. This person understands you very well, they're saying that you have a personality that is very balanced and traits that often contradict each other. You're the coldest warm person, warmest cold person, nicest mean person, meanest nice person, logical and emotional, etc. all at the same time. They're saying that you've gone through many ups and downs in life but always try to balance things out. They're saying that you try your best to keep your grace under pressure until you finally crack and burst.

They're also saying that you struggle with balancing though. This is definitely someone who knows you well. They saw you finally being able to mentally leave a situation. They're saying that you're releasing past hurts and pain. They're talking about your sense of independence and courage. They're so proud of you and your growth and they feel happy to be able to witness your growth. They're saying that you regained balance and control over yourself and your life again. This person has a lot of love for you. The connection between the both of you is likely platonic. This person really admires you for walking away or distancing yourself from past situations. You still seem to be healing though. They have a lot of faith in you. They're talking about your friendliness and ability to grow. They're saying that you're efficient and most likely will be successful in the future. This person knows that you felt used by people even if they do not speak about it. While, this person talks highly about you, there's someone else who's talking shit about you. They're saying that your relationships are very short lived and that you're superficial. They're saying that you're a bitchy person who has no friends (I'm getting that it's not like you cannot have friends, it's just that you don't have a lot of them or people extremely close to you right now.)

If you do, they're not aware of that, I'm getting that this person is likely making other people hate you along with them. If you guys had a break up, people are talking about that. There's a lot of gossip going around currently. This pile definitely seems to have had a falling out with friends or something. I just heard "if she's sad, she tries to drag your mood down too". You guys might have started your healing journey around children or are healing your inner child. Some of you have different projects that are helping you heal better. There's also a chance that some romance changed your perspective, people are not talking about it but it's kind of a confirmation for some of you. People are saying that you lack a vision for the future. They're saying that you do not have enough drive to go after your dreams and stay consistent. People are also talking about your failed long distance relationship. For some of you, it might've been just a situationship but they're not fully aware of that. A group of people are talking about how you've lost direction. They're saying that you'll get nowhere in the future, I just heard it's 'neighbourhood karens'. Someone is saying that you're going through an unrequited love. People are saying that you have blocked emotions and legit tell people not to talk to you so that you feel alone. They're saying that you hurt their feelings, made them sad and are exaggerating everything you've done to them even though they've done worse to you.

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 3 ꒱

People are saying that you're a social climber. If you go to school or college, juniors are talking about how mean you are. People might even be slutshaming you behind your back. The funny part is that so many of you here are probably virgins. They're saying that you lack/lacked financial stability and stayed friends with people just for their money. People are saying that you're out of control. They're saying that you're obsessed with status and use people. People are also saying that you act like you don't need anyone. The person or people who are talking trash about you are people who are still crying over spilt milk, likely people from the past. Someone is talking about how you have large sums of money and are likely stealing money from others. If you went to a sleepover recently, the person might've lost some money and talked shit about you behind your back. These people tried their best to guilt trip you in the past and it did work for a while but it stopped working after a while. They're still blaming you for everything. I'm getting that people tend to feel lower than you and then act like you're the problem. You might have betrayed them or they might have betrayed or both. This is someone you trusted who let you down. You might have done something that hurt one person in the group and the whole group turned against you is the scenario I'm getting. You might have almost completely hid yourself away from the world. These people are not open to change, they take everything as a personal attack and are still the people that they were a few years ago. You, on the other hand are the type to grow every single day. I'm getting that for some of you, you used to talk shit about others with this person or group of people but as you started growing older, you started feeling like it didn't align with your personal values and you might have called them out.

Maybe, you just refused to talk shit about others but they were like "oh, you think you're better than us/me?" Let's just say that they failed to understand you but they fear you strongly. They know that you have a lot of hidden secrets, there are so many things that they're trying to figure out about your life. You've withdrawn and are silent but you are often not like this and they feel like you're going to come up with something in full force. You naturally attract attention even if unwanted and right now you do not want attention, you want peace but when you come out of this period of solitude, they don't know what's going to greet them. They were in your life for pretty long until you had a falling out, they were always confused when you entered those periods of solitude and jumped into conclusions but everytime they did that, you did something surprising so they're naturally confused when it comes to you and your life currently. Everytime they ignored your potential, you proved them wrong. They spread misinformation on you but well you have something you have been working on that they can pick up on intuitively and they're so curious and feel like when you do step out of the self isolation or whatever, you're going to be so big, they will not know what to do. However, some of them are trying to reassure themselves and the rest that you lack potential for any of that. They think that you might've hidden agendas against them. These people cannot let go of you, mostly because if one of them doesn't bring you up, the other does. You're rising above the problems and their bitchiness. You've realised how worthy you really are and you think that you've gotten over the worst already and they can pick up on it too. You do not give them the time of the day. Your life improved in some way after they left your life and they know that.

It could be anything, something as small as your first job or something as big as a successful business, however, either way you're ahead of them in some way, regardless of whether they accept it or not. You've let go and learnt from the past to a certain extent and you're trying to fully release, they feel like their fears will come true. Their biggest fear is you realising your worth and achieving success. The amount of resilience you have is something that they cannot deny. Some of you are taking a break from school, college or work, maybe it's been one or two years now, you're still growing something for yourself though. They know that you have an ability that they lack, self awareness and acceptance, you're very much the 'yes, what I did was wrong but I forgive myself' kind of person while they're the 'yes, everything is my fault' while denying everything and refusing to look into themselves and their actions. I just heard that you're on your way to become a ten. You know and manage to take time out when you burn out, they aren't like that. They're too scared of being behind in life even though something like that doesn't really exist. They're burnt out and not content. Their life is tiresome because of some routine, I just heard 'rat race'. You're taking a lot onto yourself and someone else is talking about how hard you are on yourself and appreciating your efforts. Some are talking about how beautiful, nurturing and respectful you are. You're growing, please continue doing so.

[passionateseadruid]

Snake King’s Bride 3

The Daughter

⚠️Warning: There's some inappropriate content in here! Not smut but still, mildly sexual! Proceed with caution! For those of you that want to skip lucifer being a touch starved snake I will mark where that ends.⚠️

When you woke up you were still in that horrible room. Dark red silk sheets stuck to your legs and arms. Warm comforters cocooned you. The neon red translucent fabric of the canopy hangs over you. You turn over to your left towards the door.

"Good morning!" Lucifer smiled. You leapt backwards in fright! You almost fell of the bed if not for him catching you holding you by your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Careful darling! We can't have my beautiful bride getting hurt, now can we."

"How long have you been watching me?" You scooted as far away as he'd allow. 

"Not long. About an hour or so. Which in the face of eternity is about the equivalent to a microsecond for a human. Anyway I made you breakfast! I kept it nice and warm for you!" He smiles and brought over the tray from the side table and popped the silver cloche off the matching tray.

"Hm, pancakes. Thanks, I guess." You shrug and take the tray. You cut off a piece and looking at like it had sprouted a face.

"I made it with a special ingredient." He giggled.

"Is it your semen? Because that’s really crossing a line." You set your fork down and pushed the plate away

"EW NO!" He exclaimed staring at you as if you'd grown a second head.

"Period blood then?" You asked unamused. 

"Um no, I don’t have one of those." He grimaced. 

"Well I do, so thanks for that." You glared as he turned his head down.

"Why would you think that I put either of those in there?"

"I've seen enough yandere anime to know what to expect."

"What's an anime?"

"A necessary evil."

"Well I made these with love!" He smiled at you baring his spiky teeth

"So you used a love potion?"

"NO! No! Nononono! No, no, no! Yeah uh, the bird brain 4 floors down would kill me if I tried. Plus I'm confident in my abilities to woo you. I am the original "Mr. Steal-Yo-Girl" after all." He caressed your cheek. Well at least you know now that his hands are indeed an inky black.

"Which caused all the problems we have today." You deadpanned pulling away.

"Come on Doll! You gotta eat up!" He grabbed the fork and brought it to your lips. "Doll. Eat. Or I'll make you."

You growl and eat. What was supposed to be a romantic gesture ended up feeling hollow and forceful.

"Oh by the way I had a simple dress made for you from the measurements I took the first time I dressed you."

"What?"

"I altered that old wedding dress and shoes." 'So he knew that old shirt was too small for me! Pervert!' "I just had one made so we could go out shopping together! You can't exactly walk around Hell in an old wedding dress." He snapped his fingers and a white dress appeared before you with a belt that matches the pink in his vest appeared.

"…thanks." You force a smile. He places the dish to the side, and hugged you.

"Okay hang on!" You wiggled out of his grasp. "You need to stop touching me without my consent!"

He looked shocked but turned to look at the floor sullenly. "Sorry… I'm just happy to have someone around since my wife left me."

'He's trying to guilt trip you! Don't fall for it! Stand your ground!' You mentally screamed at yourself 

"And now that she's gone I guess I'm a bit touch starved. My daughter doesn't call or text. And the people of Hell aren't exactly the nicest, can't really go up to any of them and ask for a hug." He fiddled with the comforter under him.

'Stop it'  Your not sure who that was meant for.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you. I just- don't exactly pick up on people's feelings all the time. While that's no excuse I just… I'm sorry."

"…get out so I can change." You looked away. 'I will NOT develop feelings for the DEVIL of all people!'

He looked at you with big pleading eyes. "Can't I stay?"

"NO!"

"Oh right, you're traditional." He rolled his eyes.

'It's like it goes in one ear and out the other.' "Just leave!"

"Okay, sorry." He chuckled at you.

You slip on the dress and grab a comb from a big vanity across from the bed. 'I really need to be more observant. I can't stay here! I need to escape. But where would I go? It's Hell after all, not like they'll just let people out.' You opened the door and saw Lucifer fiddling with a duck in the hallway. He had put on a white top hat with a snake wrapped around it and had a crown and an apple as well. Next to him on the wall leaned a can with an apple for the handle. 

"Here! I made you this while waiting!"

"It's a duck." Was all you could say. 'No shit Sherlock.'

"Uh huh." He said with a big dopey grin.

"It looks like me."

"Cute isn't it?" He smiled.

"I think it’s ugly. This poor creature has to look like me after all." You joke.

He looked at you sadly. "Don't say that! You're beautiful! You're the most beautiful human I've met since Lilith!"

"Lilith? As in the Succubus from the Jewish religion?"

"Yeah... she was my first wife."

"I thought she was Adam's first wife."

"I told you I was the original "Mr. Steal-Yo-Girl."" He smirked. "Oh here!" He offers you white flats. "Can I put them on you?"

"Who the Fuck Am I Cinderella?"

"Well you certainly are a princess."

"If this is your way of telling me you see me as a pillow princess, just stop because that's not going to happen."

"Heh, I'm not even the one who made the innuendo this time."

"I'm not going to have sex with you."

"You'll want to once you fall in love with me!"

"Just give me the shoes." He handed them over and you slipped them on. "What's all this about anyway? Shouldn't you super busy running Hell, torturing sinners for all eternity?"

"I just want to spoil you with my riches! I'll give you anything you want! Anything at all! Just love me, want me, cherish me, and think only of me."

"Where have I heard that before? Other than a movie with IRL Kakashi (A/n: If you know, you know). I'm pretty sure it was in a big book. Matthew 4:10. Or is that wrong since you said that you and Satan are different people?"

"Doll. If you ever speak of that book in my house again, I will rip your tongue out."

'Daddy issues.' "So where are we going?" You change the subject.

"I'm so glad you asked." He grabbed his cane and started to walk away while you rush back to your room to put the duck down on the bed. "I rented out the fanciest shopping center in the pride ring! I don't know if I can take you to the other rings. Lilith transformed into a demon when she was cast into hell. Darling?"

"I had to put the duck down! Wait up!"

"Oh that reminds me I need more paint supplies. Hey! Have you ever had Cong You Bing. Let me tell you, for a pancake it's SO savory. I guess it's the syrup that makes pancakes sweet though. I like mine with whip cream. How about you?" 'He has a very one track mind.'

"Uh, chocolate chips and strawberries." You say as Lucifer opens the door to a long red Limo. 'Why is everything red? It's too much red!'

"Hm! I'll have to keep that in mind for tomorrow!" He slides in next to you. 

"We're not going to have pancakes every day are we? If So I might have to take over cooking breakfast."

"I would die to eat your cooking. I guess not because I don't really have a soul so I'd kind of cease to exist. But could you imagine if I ended up down here again! I'd be one unlucky bitch."

"Where will I go when I die?"

"I'm working on that Darling" You hadn't realized you said that out loud. 

Lucifer keeps talking while the limo drives into a huge town. Gigantic buildings lined every street. A few of the buildings had eyes. Some had strange designs like they were ripped out from a Dr. Sues Book. Others were dark and dingy; like whoever designed this was Tim Burton’s biggest fan. The limo took us into a bright neon district of the city.

"Wow! I've never seen a building so big! It's got to be at least 100 feet tall!"

"I've seen bigger. Box or whatever his name was is definitely trying to compensate."

The limo stopped in front of a long building, four stories tall. Neon blues mostly lined the outside and a bit on the inside. Neon pinks were scattered in some places. Lucifer turned to you and put a finger on your forehead bright light flashed from the tip. You looked down at you to see what he did and saw your skin turn gray. He brought out a mirror and sheepishly handed it to you. Your eyes turned black with yellow irises. Your hair was a vibrant aqua blue with some royal blue and royal purple streaks throughout it.

"Sorry. But I can't let everyone know that a live human is down here!"

He opened the door and held his hand out to you. You declined and opened the door on the other side and walked around the back to him. "Keep up."

He smirked and ran up to you. He motioned for you to follow him to the top floor. The whole top floor is only a single store. He led you to the front and immediately two attendants swarm him. "Welcome! May we have the pleasure of fitting you today, your highness?"

"Oh, no thank you ladies. We're here for her." The women looked back at you, like they weren't very impressed. One had black hair with the tips died purple with pink flowers tied throughout her hair. Her skin was lavender and so was her single eye, She wore a black button up shirt that was only buttoned on the last two buttons and underneath was a white lacy push up bra, her shirt tucked into black daisy dukes. She also had purple butterfly wings sprouting from her shoulder blades. The other girl was a blonde bunny with gold eyes. Her skin was covered in light yellow fur to match her hair. She was wearing a tight white dress with a sweetheart neckline, the skirt just barely covered her.

"Hm, we'll see what we can do." The bunny said. "I'm Firefly." She pushed herself against his arm.

"Adelpha." The other girl pushed herself against his other arm. "Renesmee!" A small Imp girl comes running out of the back. "Tend to her will you." It wasn't really a question. The two sale attendants led Lucifer away.

"Please follow me miss."

"Thank you Renesmee." You gave the small imp a smile. She wore a small black suit and her left horn was broken.

She lead you throughout the store looking for anything you might want. All you were interested in was finding a way out of hell.

"No one's ever gotten out, not since it's creation and the fall of the king and queen. What is your relationship with the king."

"Would you believe me if I said he kidnapped me?"

"Sold your soul, huh?"

"Someone else gambled away my life." You looked down sullenly. Renesmee was having trouble carrying all the outfits you had chosen, but she refused to let you help.

"What's that over there?" You pointed at nothing, and snatched a few outfits out of her hands.

"Miss please, this is my job!"

"I don't care! You're barely able to hold five outfits much less fifteen. You're a very sweet creature and you shouldn't overwork yourself." 

"Thank you miss, but really I can't allow you to. If the managers see that they'll report me to Velvette and she'll kill me! Or worse! She'll send me to work for Vox! No imp has lasted more than an hour in his care before they were sent straight to Valentino. I have a wife miss, and she's between jobs. I can't loose my job with the Vees and I don't want my face plastered in a porno."

"That's disgusting! Okay I won't hold them, but please sit and rest. I'll sit too."

"Okay." She sighed in relief.

"DARLING!!" Lucifer practically tackled you into a hug.

"What did I say about personal space?"

"Sorry I just missed you." He unhooked himself from you. "I found these cute duck pajama's in the clearance section and-" 

"Lucifer you said I could have anything I wanted."

"Yes! Anything!"

"I want you to hire Renesmee and her wife to be my personal staff."

"Miss that's not necessary."

The two clerks from before catch up and start to laugh. "Did you really think she'd hire you?" Adelpha laughed. "Pathatic! Get back to work you sister fucker!"

"Nina ain't my sister! She ain't even my species!"

"Does it really matter? You imps are so inbreed it's stunted your growth." Firefly doubled down. "The king would never hire a lowly Imp that can't even work an 8 hour shift without a five minute break every hour."

"Shut up! Renesmee is a much harder worker and a far better person than you whores!"

"Ignore them. It's just sinners being sinners." Lucifer turned you away from the women. 

"It's wrong! Renesmee didn't do anything except exist." You defended.

"Pfft look at this dumb bitch." Adelpha snickered. 

"That's just how thing's work down here. Imps work for the elite, they do menial labor." He retorted. 

"So you're telling me that they get abused and treated like shit because of how they were born. Isn't that literally racism?"

"Uh not exactly. It's just that sinners hold more weight than most Hellborn, since sinners are immortal and most Hellborn aren't." He panicked. 

"This stupid hussy is so dead." Firefly chortled. 

"We still get jobs miss. It's more of a social and raw power hierarchy." The small imp said. 

"So classism. What the fuck is this? Are you immortal? Is your kid going to have to inherit this flawed system? Is she immortal? Presumably she's Lilith's right? Or did you hook up in heaven? Is that allowed?" Thoughts flooded your head and spilled from your lips. 

"Woah woah, One question at a time darling. Heh, ironic coming from me. It's just all a bit much for me right now."

'A bit much for you? A BIT MUCH FOR YOU!? I had this whole thing thrust on me and you say that it's all a bit much for YOU!!' "You promised anything, Lucifer."

"Okay. Renesmee are you under contract with anyone?"

"I'm under a two week's notice policy with miss Velvette." 

"Go get any personal items from the back. I'll notify and compensate this Velvette character off your immediate resignation. As for you two." He glared at the two attendants that were mocking you. "Go ring up all these outfits and the ones I chose for my darling." He gives them a black card and escorted you to the exit. 5 minutes later renesmee comes rolling out riding on the back of a shopping cart. You don't even have the heart to ask where she got it from she looks too cute to mention anything.

You and Lucifer walked around the rest of the mall and he picked up anything that caught his eye. New paint supplies for his ducks; new rubber ducks; a duck necklace for you; a strawberry crepes that you two split begrudgingly on your side; he got you eight new pairs of shoes all in different colors and styles (red heals, orange flip flops, yellow sandals, green tennis shoes, blue boots, purple lolita style shoes, pink slip-ons, and black wedges); You drew the line at him coming in the with you to a store that was Hells version of Victoria Secret.

"Go buy some electronics! I'll need a phone down here."

He pouted. "Okay."

"He's so weird."

"I think the king just really likes you."

"No he's just weird. I hate how fast he's moving! It's suffocating." You gripped the skirt of your dress.

You bought out nearly the entire shop just as a little 'fuck you' to Lucifer that he wouldn't get to see you in any of them.

When you and Renesmee left you saw him waiting outside. He bought you a flatscreen, a Pc, a laptop, a wide screen monitor, a keyboard for said monitor, a matching mouse, cute cat headphones, and a fancy microphone. "I couldn't resist! I just had to spoil you!" He also had a few boxed in his hand. One was of medium size and had a picture of an iPad on it. One was small and had air-pods in them. One had a picture of a phone on the box. You took the phone and opened it up ready to get it set up.

Lucifer wrapped his arm around your waist and led you back to the limo as you fiddled with the phone.

Hey! This is the end of lucifer being a touch starved snake! If that's all you're here for I'll see you next chapter! If you want to stay for the angst enjoy the show!

The next day Lucifer woke up and was pulled away from you by Styx.

"Sire you have a meeting with the Sins today. It must have slipped your mind that the meeting was supposed to be YESTERDAY! the day of the new moon."

"Ugh let's get this over with." He walked into his study and slumped into his chair. He pulled up the video chat app. one by one the other Sins pop up. First Satan, next Mammon, then Leviathan. 

"Mammon." Leviathan said.

"Leviathan." Mammon retorted.

"Hah! I got here first I win! Fuck you guys."

"Technically I got here first." Lucifer smirked. Asmodues popped on.

"Froggy I have to go." He giggled as Fizz tickled him. 

"Oh uh, hi your majesty." Fizzarolli bowed awkwardly.

"Hello. It's always nice to see Ozzie's first serious fling."

"Hey!" Asmodues blushed. The others laughed.

"Well I should uh probably get going." Fizz blushed and hopped off camera.

"Hey everyone!" Beelzebub joined with no warning. "Hold on a second." She rushed to the door. "EVERYONE SHUT UP I'M ON A WORK CALL!! ... THANK YOU!"

"And as usual we're waiting for-" Mammon started sarcastically.

"I'm here!" Belphegor quickly signed on.

"Thank you everyone more moving our Doom Meeting to today." Lucifer smiled. (A/n: Zoom parody for those that don't get it)

"You better be fucking grateful!" Mammon sassed.

"What the fuck was so important that you had to move the meeting date!?" Satan screamed.

"It's not important." Lucifer dismissed their questions.

"Oh really? It wouldn't have anything to do with your new plaything would it?" Leviathan teased.

Lucifer blushed. "What?!" Ozzie and Bee gasped.

"You're out seeking love again after Lilith?" Ozzie took the lead.

"Let's go! Levi send the pics!"

"Don't you dare!" Lucifer threatened. Levi put them in the chat on the side. Belphegor had fallen asleep a while ago. She wasn't going to hear any of this. 

"She's adorable!" Ozzie squealed. 

"Where were you hiding this cutie?"

"A sinner? I thought you hated sinners!" Satan snarled.

"Are we going to have a meeting or not!" Mammon complained! "Time is money!"

"Leave, this is more important!" Ozzie encouraged.

"We can leave?" Satan asked enthusiastically. Him, Mammon, and Levi left.

"Hm?" Belphy woke up.

"You can leave Belphy." Lucifer smiled.

"You need help right? Charlie doesn't know, you've gotta tell her."

"Wait how do you know so much about this?" Bee looked at her surprised.

"Who do you think told Levi about the affair."

"Belphy!" Lucifer exclaimed.

"Sorry! You were just so sweet in those photo's to her."

"Should I tell Charlie? I mean I was hoping to just talk to her at the wedding."

"Woah! What wedding?" Ozzie asked.

"Oh yeah um her and I are getting married."

"How long have you two been together." Bee interogated.

"...three days."

"Yeah if you're going to move this fast you need to tell Charlie." Belphy encouraged.

"Okay, could you guys stay with me while I call her?" The three agreed and He dialed Charlie's number. "Hey sweetheart!"

"Hi dad. Do you need something?" She sounded a bit strained like she was waiting for him to ask a favor. 

"Um look Charlie. I know that things have been hard for you recently. And with the extermination that just happened a month ago you've been especially stressed."

"Uh Yeah! hold that though dad." She muted her dad and motioned Vaggie over. "Dad's finally talking about the exterminations."

"that's great honey."

"Hey dad!" she unmuted him. "you were saying..."

"Things have been hard for you and I appreciate everything that you're trying to do for the people." He was trying to butter her up and slowly easy into the idea of him getting remarried. "And you know things have been hard since your mom left."

"Yeah." She waited with baited breath. 

"Charlie... I met someone! Someone who's been a real big help and joy to me the whole time she's been with me. And I think she could really help you too."

"Really?! That's great dad!"

"Oh! Yeah, would you be willing to come by tonight and meet her?!"

"Of course! I'll be over at 5!"

"Great! See you then!"

"Bye dad!" 

"Bye!"

"Vaggie! We finally have a benefactor for the hotel!" Charlie bounced

"She took that rather well." lucifer smiled worried how you'd react to the news of meeting his daughter.

Surprisingly you took it rather well. You got dolled up and sat in the living room. Lucifer had to attend to a mini meeting to reschedule their failed meeting from this morning.

"You must be Charlie." You smiled. "You look exactly like your father. Only taller."

"Oh, thank you. My dad actually gave me this old suit jacket." It was pink and she had black flared pants with pink rims on the bottom.

You laughed. "It's hard to imagine someone like Lucifer wearing pink."

"No offense but you look... strangely human."

"It's a... long story."

"Right, well we better get down to business. may I ask what made you think redemption is possible in the first place?"

"...excuse me?"

"Redemption! The thing the Happy Hotel is- will be know for."

"What's the happy hotel?"

"Didn't my dad tell you? Isn't that why your here?"

"No." 'frankly I wish it were.' "Tell me about it."

"What?"

"No offense but the Devil's daughter trying to redeem people is a new one. And trust me I've heard a lot of crazy things." 

"I want to redeem sinners so that they can go to heaven!" She bursts out all at once.

"How will you do that?"

"Well I've been workshopping a little ditty. Would you mind if i performed for you? I'm better at expressing myself and my goals through song!"

"Please by all means! The floor is yours."

*insert inside of every demon is a rainbow*

By the end she's huffing and you clapped loudly giving her a standing ovation. "That was amazing!"

"Sorry I'm late ladies!" Lucifer entered.

"Dad! Who is she?"

"You didn't tell her?" He looked at you

"She's your daughter. It's not my place to say."

"If she doesn't want to be a benefactor for the hotel why did you want us to meet."

"Hey I never said I don't want to!" You chirped in the background but it's drowned out.

"Benefactor... Charlie when I said I met someone I meant... I-I didn't mean... I'm going to marry her..."

"What?" Charlie's voice cracked. "But what about Mom!"

"What about Mom?"

"I think I should go." You tried to leave. 

"Stay." Lucifer Ordered.

"You said that you'd love her forever!"

"Yeah at the beginning of Hell! Charlie SHE left ME. What am I supposed to do? wait for her to come crawling back to me?" 

"It would be better than you running around with some floozy under your arm digging her way into your checkbook. Does she even love you?"

"She loves me very much!"

"I really feel like I this is a father daughter Moment."

"Stay!" Charlie ordered her horns Popping out as she uttered the word. "How long have you been together?"

"A while!"

"You literally said like two days ago a month was nothing in the face of eternity." You said and this was ignored. "So now you'll ignore me."

"Don't lie to me!"

"A few days."

"A few days?!"

"When you were younger you only took a few days to know you wanted to date Seviathan!"

"I was a teenager! And look how that relationship ended."

"Charlie I know what I'm doing. I really thought that'd You'd be more supportive of me and my decisions."

"I Really don't think I should be here."

"STAY!" They both shouted at you, their horns popping from their heads, and this time you sat. 

"You always told me that Mom was the only one for you and now you're throwing that away?"

"Charlie... I thought that out of everyone I know, you'd be the most mature about this. You know I love you but you're being a spoiled brat about this! I've given up so much for your happiness. I have mad sacrifice after sacrifice and all I'm asking for is for you to understand where I'm coming from. I'm Lonely Charlie."

"I'm not going to sit here and listen to this."

"Charlie stop! You're acting like a child!"

"Don't dad. Just don't." She left.

"Lucifer! I don't want to come between you and your daughter. I grew up on evil stepmom stories, I don't want to be like that."

"Just!- We will talk about this later." And he left you alone.

"Great! Now I have the Devil and his daughter angry at me and each other! Way to go me! And on top of all of that I still don't have anyway to get home! I'm going to DIE!" You screamed into a pillow.

[cvlutos]

"NOTHING GOOD HAPPENS AFTER DARK"

RIDDLE R. v LEONA K. [MALE!READER]

ALICE IN WONDERLAND x RED RIDING HOOD [CROSSOVER]

WARNINGS: DARK CONTENT | YANDERE | VIOLENCE | PREDATOR n’ PREY | HUNTING | BLOOD | SUGGESTIVE | IMPLIED MURDER | PERSECTIVE JUMPS | SPECIES DISCRIMINATION | ETC | BE CAUTIOUS, BELOVED

T.MANOR: TRYING A NEW LAYOUT AND WRITING STYLE. ALSO, THIS IS PRETTY MESSY WRITING SO BE AWARE

| PART TWO |

| FEM!VER | GN!VER |

EVERY Tuesday, exactly at noon, does the stone clock tower chime. Without delay, you hear the sound of trumpets, the marching of hooves, as the golden gates of the palace open. Wide and big, as the card soldiers, in perfect position, march upon horses of black and white, wearing that of red with swords attached to their hips and spears within their hands. Preparing for the Queen’s weekly hunt. The crowd cheers, waves banners, as they yell sayings of good luck.

The cobblestone path is tight, crowded with people, big and small, infants to the elderly, all in hopes of seeing the benevolent Queen off. Even if this same celebration will happen next week as well. In seeing him in all his grandeur. Something you’d “sadly” miss, with your woven basket tight in hand, warm and heavy from the fresh baked delights, all from the Clover bakery. You shimmy through the tight crowd, moving in the opposite direction and were, quite frankly, in the way, even as you walk along the side house and store walls. You mummer ‘excuse me’ and apologize as you go, giving sheepish grins to those who spared you a glance.

You would rather be at home, yet you promised your mother you would go. You promised to go to the bakery, to buy your grandmother’s favorite treats and sweets and deliver them to her. She lives just outside the town and in the center of the thick woods, just on the other side in a small cottage in the middle of the northern woods. A journey you’ve made countless times, and on less crowded days. Yet today, your mother was extra worried, extra concerned for your grandmother’s well being. Even if you promised, you’d go first thing in the morning tomorrow. Yet she forced you anyway. Well, guilt-tripped you into going.

‘What if she’s already dead? Hm? What would you do then?’

Return home? Tell the authorities? Cry? Yet the look on her face told you she didn’t want any back talk, so you gave in and left.

You forced yourself further down the path, spotting the familiar opening that you’ve always taken. The town you live in is surrounded by a large stone wall. Tall and thick, with only one way out of the village, and one way in. Yet this impenetrable wall has a hole, fairly big, that anyone could fit their largest ox. So you had no trouble merely crawling or walking through. The alley that led to your secret path was uncrowded, as if waiting for you and you alone.

You shimmy forward, pushing past local residents. Some allowed room for you, having noticed you, others merely rolled their eyes. You pop your head past the road barricade, searching the long stone road. The card soldiers were far. Far away to where you could make it without interrupting them, or them even noticing you. You step over the thick string, glancing one more time, before you make haste. Darting onto the clear, wide road. Ignoring shouts and gasps as you make your way to the alley. Stopping to catch your breath, you turn around. Some of the crowd are merely laughing you off, others completely ignoring, some glared at you disappointedly, yet none made a move to call the guards on you. Your eyes scan the road. You hadn’t dropped anything, and if you did, you’re sure no one would even notice.

Slightly proud of yourself, you continue on, moving past the eccentric alley system, moving quickly past houses and shops, jogging towards the large wall.

You’d be fine.

══════ ♡ ══════

“HALT.”

The crowd becomes silent, and everything pauses. A send off has never once stopped. The Red Queen, golden crown glinting in the sun, his hand raised high. His horse stands still, the same confident and demanding energy as his owner, bows his head, as the Queen flows off the saddle. Heels clicking against the stone road. He walks forward, taking exactly five precise steps, before crouching, leather gloved fingers swiping along the stone. How he saw just a small thing, no one will ever know. The squished remains of strawberry cream cheese tart, a small delight. He rubs the cream between his fingers before rising just as quickly, holding out his hand for a napkin. It appears within a second. He turns on his heel, glaring eyes scouring the crowd, before landing on an older man.

“You! Who ran across here!?”

“Uh! I have no clue, your—your majesty.” He gives an embarrassed, clumsy bow, keeping his eyes glued to the ground. “Then you tell me?” The Queen looks at another, a young woman, who automatically stiffens her posture, face paling.

“A-a man! A young man. With—with a wooden basket and red cape.” The crowd nods along eagerly.

“In which direction?”

Multiple hands point towards the alley, all in fear to face the Queen’s wrath. With a single snap, five card soldiers appear by his side. “Search for the one with a red hood. Such disrespect shall not be tolerated.” There’s a chorus of ‘yes! your majesty.’ Yet not a soul moving til the Queen re-asummed his position upon his horse. “We will resume! While in search of this Red Hood!” His voice is thunderous, and as if nothing happened, everything returns to normal.

══════ ♡ ══════

The leaves crunch beneath your feet. As you continue your long trek, the path is winding and bumpy, covered in wild leaves and branches, the cobblestone hidden beneath the foliage. The basket sways within your hand as you walk and wander along the familiar path. The cool breeze flutters your crimson cloak, and you pull the hood to cover your head and protect your ears. Wishing to have worn pants instead of trying to be cute with your red shorts and white knee-length socks.

The Queendom is never cold, unless the Queen desires cold weather.

It always remains at the perfect temperature, always a warm summer breeze and a perfect summer day. And as you venture deeper into the woods and further away from the Queendom, the cobblestone path slowly crumbles and slowly turns to dirt. You stop at the threshold, glancing behind you. Something about today seems different.

You hope it’ll be a good day.

You venture into the woods.

══════ ♡ ══════

“Ruggie. I’m heading out. Ill be back.”

He lets out a low yawn, stretching his muscles as he walked towards the cave entrance, not giving Ruggie, his right hand, a chance to respond, leaving the hyena beastman to do whatever it is he’s doing. He pushes past the thick vines of the cave, leaving the warmth of the cave and giving a shallow nod to a young wolf beastman who currently was guarding the large camp, with the others like him. “Ill be back before dawn.”

“It’s noon? And the Queen and his guard is hunting today. Far from us, but still. Are you sur—” The lazy king gives a short wave, swatting away the beastman’s concerns, stifling another yawn, leisurely wiping tired tears from his eyes, while the wolf opened his mouth to speak.

“Jack!” The duo looks towards the urgent voices. Two young beastmen, a young tiger and an older bear, both you jogged frantically, seemingly having to run across the majority of the temporary camp. They slow to a stop, giving a quick bow to their pride leader before turning to Jack.

“The Queen’s Knights. Theres five of them! Theyre asking for you presence!”

“Of course. I’m on my way. Leona.” Jack turns to their sleepy leader, only to find the place where he stood empty. He’s brows furrow, before quickly giving up and motioning for the two to lead the way.

The Queendom of Roses and the Pride of Kingscholar. While the Queen occupies the Northern woods, the Kingscholar current occupies the East portion. Over months of arguments and fights, the Kingscholar Pride has been slowly forced to the outskirts and south, while the Queendom slowly takes over the North and East.

Jack and the two beastmen run side by side, running towards the end of the camp, coming across the five poised card guards. They all sit on white pristine horses, not moving an ounce as Jack slows and straightens out his white button-up shirt. “Where is Leona Kingscholar? We shall only speak to one of authority.” The voice is muffled by his thick metal helmet, clasping to his reins and swords.

“He’s away. What you need can be spoken back to him.” Jack crosses his arm, keeping a scowl upon his lips as the knight scoffs.

“I shouldn’t expect more from your kind,” Jack clicks his tongue but doesn’t speak, letting the knight continue, “There’s a human boy in red. He has ruined the Queen’s sendoff and thus must receive punishment. If you find him, you know best to hand him over immediately.”

“I have no such obligations.”

“Right—” You can hear the confidence in his voice, as he shifts the reins, getting ready to move, “It’s only best to consume your meat fresh. I hope you don’t get red fabric between your fangs, wolf.”Jack gives a low growl as the horse becomes spooked, rushing over, earning a yelp from the knight and gasps from the other silent four. They watch the group ride off into the forest, before letting out a huff.

“Jack. What should we do?”

The tiger beastman speaks first, which earns a thoughtful sigh from the wolf beastman. “Nothing. I’m sure Leona will find the boy before we do. Continue as you were.” Jack turns on his heels, rolling his shoulders as both boys shout and eager ‘yes’. This camp is only temporary until they reach the eastern mountain’s summit, and beyond that will be the savannas once you cross the mountains. Something Leona has been avoiding for the longest time.

══════ ♡ ══════

The farther you walk, the darker the woods get. Yet the twisting and winding path doesn’t lead you astray, a path in which you’re acquainted with. And as the trees grow closer and the leaves block the sun, it feels colder, as luminescent mushrooms and flowers that grow alongside the path glow in hints of blue and yellows, give you little light, while pollen that glows a soft purple flutters through the air. It’s absolutely enchanting, with towering thick trees and small sections which sunlight peeks through, highlighting the vibrant green plants and bushes. You hum softly, playing different games as you walk, occasionally eating one of your grandmother’s snacks.

“Youre quite far.”

You screech, nearly jumping out of your skin at the new presence of a voice. You look around and see no one. Your heart pounds against your ribcage. After a few moments, you left out a huff, slowly calming yourself.

“Especially during the Tyrant’s Hunt,” There’s a low chuckle that sends shudders down your spine and you look around frantically, “He might very well mistake you for a deer.” A rock zooms past your head, barely missing you and striking the tree behind you. Your body stiffens.

“Can you not speak?” It’s taunting and drawn out and you shiver as if ghost hands caress your body.

“What do you want—?”

“Now that is the question,” The voice lets out a low hum, and you hear the shuffling of plants, “I am quite hungry.”

You get a horrible feeling, and nearly trip, as something, or a someone, bolts through the thicket. A lion beastman. Before you can react, nails digging into your shoulders, and the new weight forces you to fall back, and momentum pushes you and him to roll over yourselves. Until you’re once again on your back, with the air from your lungs. Your eyes fly open, staring into amused deep emerald green eyes. You wince at the feelings of nails digging into your shoulders, close to breaking your skin and making you bleed, but he doesn’t. Only giving you the sensation of nails breaking skin. Your heels dig into the earth as you desperately try to regain your breath.

“Oh… Dont look like that. You act like I’m going to eat you. Well,” His hands move from your shoulders, letting you crawl backwards and away as he rested on the balls of his feet, forearms resting on his thighs as he tilts his head to the side. Eyes trailing you up and down, staring at the expansion of your bare thighs and legs, a low whistle slipping past his lips. “I might. In a more human way.” A shiver rolls down your spine as you use your cape to cover your legs. He visibly looks displeased as he looks at your face.

“Little Red Riding Hood on the run from the Queen.” He hums and youre eyes widen as you stagger to your feet.

“What? I didn’t do anything?!”

“Doesn’t seem that way,” his tail flicks lazily, his finger drawing in the dirt in clear boredom, “you somehow made the little tyrant mad.” He stands and you step away, he makes no move toward you. Green eyes gazing around the forest before stopping and landing on the path, in the direction in which you came. You follow his gaze and when you look back, the lion beastman is extremely close, his nose brushing against yours. You jump away and he rests a hand on his hips, while the other holds out your forgotten basket.

“I would get going little red. Unless you want to be headless.”

You take your basket and glanced the path, you could hear the pounding of hooves. You grimace before turning around, sharing one more glance at the beastman before darting down the path, back onto the road to grandmother’s house.

══════ ♡ ══════

There’s six. Six horses, five knights, one tyrant.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, kicking up dirt and letting out a yawn, he was pretty hungry. Maybe you’d and your grandmother might make a good snack after he’s done here. He counts the seconds before the Tyrant comes into view, an ever-permanent scowl upon his youthful face. He’s pristine and upon seeing Leona, he ordered his soldiers to stop and with ease slides off his horse and marches 10 steps before glaring at the Lion Beastman.

“Queen’s rules dictate that youre not allowed within the northern forest on Tuesday afternoons. In all honesty, I should send you and your pride further east for such disrespect of the Queens’s rules.” His words are venomous, speaking precisely that has his knights flinching even if the words weren’t for them.

“It’s Tuesday? I had no idea. Oops.” Using his pinky finger, he cleans out his ear with a bored expression, earning a harder glare as the Queen struggles to remain calm.

“No matter. Do what you want. I have more pressing matters.” He holds out his hand, and immediately, a parchment scroll is placed within his hands. The Queendom of Roses has always been the most efficient and quick. Undoing the rolled parchment and holding up the paper, your face was drawn most beautifully, a perfect reflection almost.

“Pretty isn’t he.” Leona furrows his brows, watching the Tyrant marvel at the photo, his nose scrunches in disgust.

“What are you on, Riddle?” Gasps and quick inhales come from the knights, yet the Queen doesn’t seem to mind, only few can call him by his name.

“If you must know. He disturbed my send off, and I assumed he was some ruffian. But to now see a drawing of him. He is quite cute and I am in need of a King,” He tilts her head with a gleeful grin, that seemed misplaced and lovesick, “Though I will have to break him in, make him more obedient. But I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”

“You truly are sick.” Riddle face morphs from love-struck to angry, rolling up the parchment delicately, before clearing his throat.

“I suggest you go. Unless—” A arrow shoots past Riddle’s head and grazes the fullness of Leona’s cheek before striking the tree behind him. Green eyes widen a mere fraction, and the tyrant beholds the tiniest smile. The card soldiers werent mere decoration, yet they arent that smart either. One of them must be a skilled huntsman.

“You know what I am capable of. I hate to have to make you my target instead.”

The leader of his pride rolls his shoulders lazily, with his thumb wiping away the blood on his cheek. “Absolutely. Id hate to make you angry. Know if you’ll excuse me, this lion is quite hungry.” And without another word, the lion stalks into the unknown of the woods.

══════ ♡ ══════

The path to grandmother’s house seems a lot longer than it usually does. Usually you’d be at her tiny cottage within an hour or two, yet it feels like days since you entered the woods and encountered the lion beastman. As if the forest was alive, living, breathing. As if the path beneath you were snakes whose bodies twisted and turned, knocking you off your feet.

You land with a hard thud, shaking your head. The forest is darker than before. How long has it been? You know the path and you know it well yet; you search your surroundings lazily, feeling as if you were submerged in thick oil, and the word seemed muffled. You spot vibrant red mushrooms that seemed to inflate before releasing a thick white gas. Hallucinations. They’re carnivorous mushrooms, but they’re never active during the day, nor on the path. Theyre new. As if purposely planted, but that’s ridiculous.

And it couldn’t possibly be night.

No.

You struggle to your feet, gripping the basket and meandering.

Walking.

Walking.

Walking.

Walking.

Walking.

Walking.

Walking.

Until a beacon.

Off to the side of the path, nestled in between two large trees, if you walked further down the path you’ll come across the small cottage village, with her golden porch light, was your grandmother’s house. With her stone walls and wooden roof were covered in moss and mushrooms, while her red painted door was visible. You pick up your pace, stumbling occasionally as you reach her rickety wooden porch, a wide grin upon your lips as you knock on the old door.

“Grandma!” You call through the wood, yet no reply. You grab the gold doorknob, turning it and slowly pushing the door inside, letting yourself in.

It’s the same as you remember, with the fireplace on, with fresh logs. There was no collection of dust, and the couch looked recently sat on. Her throw blanket and decor pillows were out of place. You close the door behind you, slipping off your shoes, and placed the basket on the dining room table. While undoing the strings of your cape and calling out to your grandma. You move deeper into her home, before reaching her bedroom. You knock.

“Oh, darling! I’m feeling quite sick, but come in. Come in.” Her voice sounds the same, and your tense shoulders drop, as a smile spreads across your face as you open the door. Only to find her bed empty and made, with the window wide open. You step further into the room, looking around, before you hear a soft click and you spin around, only to find the lion beastman from before. He isn’t looking at you, but instead squeezing a small bird.

“Mimic birds are quite useful. Able to mimic to the voice of anyone and anything once they hear it.” He releases the bird, and it frantically flies out the window. You step back. “You—My grandma!” You suck in a panicked breath and the man only shrugs. Striding his way towards you, his hand moving faster than you could comprehend to grab your face and squeeze your cheeks.

“What do you think—” His free arm slides around your waist and forces your close, you try to push him away, “I did. Maybe I ate her. Gobbled her up like a big bad wolf,” He faux pouts before clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes in personal annoyance, “Or lion, that fits better doesn’t it.” He shakes your head aggressively, speaking like a mother would to a child when they’re fussy,

“Maybe ill eat you up. Wouldn’t you just like that—” He lets you break away with a laugh, watching your glare, and he tilts his head and eyes moving out the window.

You can hear horses.

ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[bread-and-roses-too]

Demonizing menstruation doesn't help spread information, mysticizing menstruation doesn't help spread information. Going completely neutral is the only way forward.

Periods are an expulsion of waste. They're no more gross than pissing is. The social etiquette of "excuse me I have to go to the bathroom" shouldn't change because someone puts a pad in their pocket before they head off.

Period blood is blood, along with endometrial cells. It isn't more dangerous or gross than the blood that comes out of a wound. It should be treated with the same level of caution because of the potential for disease transmission, but it's not some toxic sludge that you're going to die from looking at wrong. If blood gets on a nonporous surface a simple antibacterial wipe will remove it and prevent the spread of most potential diseases. For a porous surface like fabric soap and water may be enough, or hydrogen peroxide if the stain is stubborn. More careful steps may need to be taken if the blood may or does contain HIV, but it's important to remember that HIV can only be contracted by blood-to-blood contact or sex. Blood from a person with HIV isn't that much more dangerous than regular blood, just try not to touch blood directly in general and wash your hands correctly after handling soiled objects and you'll be fine.

Periods are not your body "punishing you" for not being pregnant. Your body is just a container for you, it doesn't have any feelings that you don't have. If you don't want kids but feel guilty about not having them, it is not your uterus making you feel guilt. That's you being reminded by your period to feel guilt because you were conditioned growing up to view everyone with a uterus as valuable only in terms of their ability and desire to carry children. Anthropomorphizing the function of your reproductive system is the way you deal with the guilt of not living up to your societal "purpose" of bearing children. Everyone who doesn't have kids, has kids late, or has a journey regarding children that's different from the societal norm deals with that to a certain extent, although people who were raised as girls/women tend to deal with it more. It's a line of thinking that you will likely need to work through, either alone or with a sympathetic therapist, in order to be content. Also, if your periods feel like a punishment that could be a sign that something is wrong.

Periods aren't supposed to disable you. Cramping should be at a "oops I ate something that didn't quite settle with me" level not a "cosplaying as a wounded animal" level. You should be able to pop your over-the-counter pain medication of choice and not have to think about the fact that you're on your period aside from the occasional bathroom trip to change your menstrual product. Bleeding through pads or tampons on an hourly basis isn't normal. Fainting from blood loss or pain isn't normal. Being unable to complete daily tasks, or completing them with difficulty, due to pain is not normal. Nausea or vomiting that interferes with your ability to stay fed and hydrated isn't normal.

Irregular periods can be normal, some people just don't get periods on a consistent schedule. Going more than 35 days between can be a sign that something is wrong. Going more than 90 days without a period, sometimes called "losing" your period, can be a sign that something is wrong. If you don't want to have a period, forcing yourself to "lose" it through starvation, overexercise, or stress is not a safe way to do it. These behaviors can have other long-term consequences, including premature death. Hormonal birth control can be taken consistently, skipping periods, with no excess effect on fertility or personal health that we're aware of.

Emotionality is normal before and during your period. Crying at a cat video that you would normally scroll past without thinking is normal. It's ok to be frustrated with emotionality, it can be annoying to feel out of control. It's also ok to withdrawal from others for a short time when you feel unable to socialize. Panic attacks, depression, sleep disturbances, loss of interest, and other major mood disturbances are not normal and can be a sign of premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD). PMDD is as serious as other depressive disorders and can lead to suicide.

Your reproductive system isn't self-contained, it's connected to the rest of your body via blood supply and other mechanisms. Even if you plan to have a hysterectomy or other permanent birth control at some point it's still important to get "period problems" checked out to ensure the rest of your body isn't affected.

People deal with their periods how they deal with them and it's none of anyone's business. Someone isn't lazy for not feeling up to activities during their period. People who eat junk food on their period aren't "making themselves feel worse". Judging someone's choice in menstrual products is so fucking weird and rude, yes I am judging you back. People who skip their periods using birth control (hi!) aren't ruining their bodies with chemicals. People who choose not to use birth control or don't use it for that purpose aren't choosing to suffer for no reason. People are infinitely complex in the ways they choose to deal with inconvenience and challenge and tearing each other down for not being the same is unproductive. Period stigma can only end when we work together, trans and cis, intersex and dyadic, all gender presentations, races, sizes, and abilities, to make it work.

In the theme of the last paragraph, if anything in this post is incorrect or uninclusive, please let me know and I'll fix it asap.

[image ID: a banner that reads "TERFs and SWERFs DNI].

[yandere-kokeshi]

Yandere Obanai Iguro Headcanons

Warnings: Yandere behavior, spoilers for his mask, punishments, and stalking; lmk if I missed anything.

Authors note: Obanai is one of my favorite characters so this may be a bit longer; I also do not own this character!

Rarely, does anyone he encounters or secretly watches is worthy of his time; yet… you, the most prized, kind, and the lovely person he’s ever seen, wrapped his heart in tight strings, making him fall for you. Getting his attention is quite a hard thing to do, but once he realized the feeling of butterflies hitting everywhere in his stomach, making him sweat profusely and act ‘awkward’ around you; almost acting like a different person.

At first, Obanai will try his best to avoid you or rather not let you see him. Not because he hates you or dislikes the emotions that are coming forward, but rather because he believes that he might not be the best decision for you; his clan following him like a trail of blood with an eminence feeling of guilt. He’s rather insecure about his past, including his wide mouth that he rarely shows. He fears you’ll hate him, causing him to make sure you see him as ‘normal’ and ‘human-like’.

Of course, this shows that he’ll be stalking you like no other, watching you from afar in awe, a small smile projecting on his face under the mask. Much like the other Hahsira’s, he will try to find out everything about you: likes, dislikes, pet peeves, and many things that’ll make you happy. Once he does find out, Obanai is leaving small gifts on your doorstep, hoping you’ll like the clothing, hand-written notes, and flowers he left for you.

If you decide to have a crush on someone, or someone has the urge to pursue a relationship with you (romantically), they are immediately taken down by Obanai. Either, he would try to find information that they wouldn’t want anyone to know, blackmail them to never be around you or, threaten them and belittle them to the point they’re scared to be even around you.

This also goes along the same line of your loved ones, not that he enjoys seeing you happy and content with your loved ones, he just has high paranoia about anyone that’s around you. He believes that they’ll take you away from him, possibly stealing you away forever and completely forgetting about him; in which, he fears highly. In this case, if he sees you getting hurt (verbally, emotionally, or physically), they are getting hurt and killed in the most gruesome way.

Most likely, the way you caught Obanai’s attention was the fact that you were a strong Hashira; you had a kind, caring, and gentle personality that drew his attention. You treated him like a human being, something that he wasn’t used to. You always tried to talk to him, in which he'd always blow you off: “Leave me alone, you’re annoying.”

Yet, you continuously approached him, even when he spewed out threats that would hurt people and lead them to tears. But, now, since you’ve caught the eye of a snake, he becomes extremely protective of you, even if you’re a Hashira.

Obanai knows you aren’t weak, you’re a Hashira for damn sake; but the moment he starts to realize he loves you, your privilege as a Slayer is quickly stripped away. Either, he would come up with an excuse to Oyakata-sama about needing you to stay home; resulting in you ‘retiring’. Or, force you to quit by guilt-tripping and manipulating you.

Even though Obanai is very possessive of you, he wouldn’t kidnap you unless you were hurt very badly. Whether that’s you tripping and breaking a leg, someone assaulting you or almost getting eaten by a demon: Obanai would only take severe precaution if needed. He knows what it’s like to be caged inside a box, which he doesn’t wish upon you at all. But, he will manipulate you to keep you home as much as possible, using the excuse: “I can save you if any problems come forth. You have everything you want here, right? So why not stay to keep yourself tight, I’m only doing this to protect you. I love you, you’re safer here.”

Though, if you were to get hurt and end up in the Butterfly Estate with multiple injuries, Obanai is sitting right next to you, holding your hand, planning a way to get you ‘home’. Once you’re awake, he’s right beside you, ordering you to never scare him like that again: “Since you were hurt badly, Master has made it clear you’re retired. You’re not leaving without me anymore, it’s final.”

Back on the track of manipulating, he would order you around to stay by him at all times. This includes ‘accidentally’ slipping into a relationship with him and moving in with him; controlling you from the moment you step foot in your now-shared home.

Obanai’s yandere tendencies consist of being very overprotective, paranoid, semi-worshiping, and possessive. He’s always watching over you, paranoia covering his thick skin as if someone will come into the home and steal you away. Rarely does he allow you to leave the house, at least without him that is.

From his experience, he knows you need sunlight to function. He would allow you to come out, shop, and eat out at your favorite restaurants as long as he’s alongside you. Of course, anyone who dares to eye you is immediately stared down by him.

His biggest problem is his insecurity, fearing that you’ll abandon him and betray him like everyone else. This makes the affection between the two of you (at times) very confusing, he will believe he’s not good for you, pushing you away to the point of desperation of physical contact. Then, other times, he wants a cuddle session the moment he comes home, bringing you in a tight embrace whilst he smells your hair.

Because of his insecurity of his body and face, he would never ever drop off his mask around you, scared you’ll run away once you see it. But, when it comes to a year within the relationship, he’ll allow you to pull it down, unexpected by the gentle kisses plastered on his face given by you; it may lead him to tears.

The punishments you’ll receive are pretty slim in advance; he hates hurting you in any way. Normally, if you decide to act out, he would either ignore you or lecture you to the point you’ll feel bad.

Throw insults towards him? He’ll bluntly ignore it. He’s heard those before, it doesn’t affect him as much as it did when he was younger; go ahead, he’s heard worse.

If you decide to try to break out or try to hit him? He would be annoyed and hurt. Of course, he would snap at you… yelling at you as to why ‘are you stupid?’ or ‘try that again and see what happens next.’

However, the most he would do to ‘hurt you’ is when you escape; bruising your wrists. Either after he finds you stumbled into the dirt outside or he catches you before you make it out into the woods, Obanai is yelling at you and dragging you back to your shared-room. You’d have a few scratches from trying to get away and the now reddish-bruise forming on your wrists from him dragging you inside.

You will be spoiled with everything you want if you act good. You want jewelry? You have a basket full of it, plus that haori you wanted. You love to read? You get as many books as you want, letting you admire the book cover as he blushes at your happy face. Whatever you want, is yours; all he asks in favor is you allow him to cuddle you, get many kisses and hugs from the desperate snake Hashira.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, stay well!

Do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate or copy my work.

[thatsanswitch]

A Letter To An Ex Friend

You groomed me.

It’s embarrassing how long it took for me to realize that. We met when I was fourteen, you were five years older than me, it was three months after I escaped my dad. You were an adult, I was a vulnerable kid. You took advantage of that. 

You added me to an rp server. At first it was great, I fell in love with the writing style, I made one of my closest friends, I felt safe. 

That is when the abuse started. 

You were manipulative, mean, downright cruel at times. Everything was about you. If we did something you didn’t like, no matter how small, you would berate us until I was in near tears. Every move was careful, and scary, because what if I upset you again? I don’t want to be yelled at, I didn’t want to cause another tantrum. 

When someone tried to speak up against you, against what you were doing, you made it seem like they were suddenly a bad guy in your story. And you did a fantastic job of making them think they were in the wrong, like they were the bad person for trying to point out your wrongs.

The guilt tripping was awful. God forbid you weren’t at the center of everything, you would throw a fit until you were in the spotlight, until all of our attention was on you. 

I’m sorry

Please don’t be mad

I didn’t mean to

It was stupid of me, I’m sorry

I’m so sorry

Please don’t hate me

We were your puppets, your punching bag. Your bad days turned into our worst, if anything went wrong in any way, we were the ones to take the brunt of it, and apologize for it, for our existence. 

And then, with you, twenty years old while I was fifteen, coerced me into writing smut. At the time, I didn’t realize how fucked up that was. You would encourage me to write it, then shame me for it. If I wrote a smut scene with the person my age, you would get mad, force me to write another one with you. Do you know how damaging that was? Whenever I would try to explore my sexuality, you usurped it, made me do what you wanted, and then made me feel disgusted and ashamed. 

Nothing was ever good enough for you. The only time you were happy was when you or your characters were front and center, getting all the attention. You expressed yourself through your one dimensional characters, and steam rolled over any scene where one of us tried to do the same. Your excuse? Your mental illnesses. I have a shocking thing to tell you, it wasn’t your mental illnesses, you were just a shitty person, doing shitty things. 

You know, you never truly apologized. You hurt me so much, you caused me to nearly quit writing entirely. I can’t count the number of times I cried myself to sleep, hating myself for upsetting you, blaming myself for everything. 

You’re a bad person, and an even worse friend. Do you understand how much pain you caused? Do you even realize you hurt us? Do you even care? 

Don’t, for once in your life, make this all about you. No, your mental illnesses didn’t make you do this, don’t hide behind it and make yourself out to be the victim. 

The one good thing to come out of our friendship, was you introducing me to my best friend. It’s the only reason I don’t regret being your friend. 

I hope you learned to stop hurting people, I hope you have grown as a person, but honestly, I doubt it. I’m sure you’re still stuck in that “woe is me” mindset and can’t see that you’re the problem. 

Don’t do that this time. For the sake of everyone around you, learn how to be a better person. 

-Emma

@fluidityandgiggles

[abozsazzz]

1

@holidayturkeyy

(written from of a friend of mine sharing experience)

bullying: I'm one of the victims of them bullying me, I was 16 years old, confused about a small headcanon and still firguing out more underneath the nonbinary umbrella, I didn't know being confused would causw such hate and attacking toward me? i came off polite and confused at the beginning until her 19-25 year old friends attacked me, it was scary for me to be attacked by literal adults because i was confused over a small thing, it sent me in an panic and of course I striked back with anger I'll admit that, but the audacity to go out of your way to send adults to actual an literal minor is so immature and gross in all ways, a simple question asked and attacked, like what was the issue? you got all your friends to come at me because i butthurt you over being confused, you bully literal minors you even laughed about this after in your tweets when you knew I was getting attacked, you blocked me because you didnt know how to defend yourself in any situations your brought up in alone, you always have to have your friends/followers hold your hand to do to it for you. you are 18 years old, on twitter, acting this way towards minors, im mentioning this now because it still bothers me, of course an minor would still be bothered by this, why wouldn't they be? literally attacked by grown people for absolutely no reason, at least one of your friends were mature enough to explain politey to me and apologize, but you didn't for getting everyone to attack me? that's just cruel and you block and laugh behind my back about it, real mature of you. 

grooming: your fan base is young, you forces your own fetishs and headcanons on minors, to be exact, 13-15 at maxmin, your put an bad influence on them and most likely brainwash them into your fetishing ideals. you do not care how young of minors come across your page and how badly you influence them, you do not care about minors feelings one bit because as an victim once more you thought it was funny how i got attacked by your friends through a headcannon, its grooming, you and your friends are grooming little kids, it's an pattern with your friends to manipulate and guilt trip little kids, your all adults and your doing this to little kids, grow up?

asexual fetish: as you may know, izzy is in the fnaf fandom and draws some certain things, they have an NSFW account on twitter and i have came across it, first off they headcanon freddy asexual and so they then make freddy having sex with bonnie afterwards when literally .. asexuals dont even contain in sexual things, (i have an asexual friend) and this is just fetishing asexuals now at this point too, like how are you gonna excuse yourself oh; "all asexuals can have sex" are talking about this biologically in science term because yes there is a thing called asexual reproduction, but knowing izzy they don't know certain meanings and terms, asexual reproduction is doing it individually and reproducing yourself, not reproducing with any other mate this is more so independent, but besides that freddy literally pounds bonnie in the ass and suddenly isn't asexual anymore? and saying all asexuals is the poorest fucking excuse i heard in a life time, that's so fucking stupid you gotta be stupid to be saying that, it's disrespectful to asexuals, ASNWER me this izzy, or not because you can't defend yourself okay, we all know this, what's the point of even calling Freddy asexual then? like the point of being asexual is not involving in sexual activity; your uncomfortable with sexual things; no desire in sex, so Freddy wasn't even considered asexual before but you decide to draw porn of an asexual because your only desire is to fetish around things because you think it's okay, when its obviously not. You pulled the "I never made freddy asexual!!" On your tweets, and suddenly you find an old art piece of yours and even catch your own self in a lie or im assuming you pretended not to remember, you lied to yourself (not really), but lie to your audience and you wonder you lost half your followers.

lesbian fetish: they claim that their Bonnie headcanon is bisexual enby and their monty headcanon is lesbian and trans, I see no problem with the Monty headcanon but the Bonnie one is unbelievable like, you claim they aren't lesbians but you call them "my girls!" All the time, you also claim in your last Tumblr that bonnie is based off you and he helped you find your gender and sexuality? how does taking scott's fnaf character, making it as your "own" help find yourself, when you think about this, this is really fucking stupid, I don't know how you would find yourself through an animotronic rabbit from an horror game, this is honestly giving me second hand embarrassment, also how are you referring to yourself a girl still when you also refer to yourself as he/him or they/them, don't pull the misgendering card on this either because firstly you call yourself a woman but your going by he/they so what's the point? yes gender and pronouns aren't equal but how are you gonna even refer to yourself a girl when your uncomfortable with she/her pronouns and go with he/they, it makes 0 sense, and so if your a "he/they" lesbian then your just straight, not everything has to be labeled lesbian Izzy, if your that just don't put lesbian out there for the entire world to know this for attention, this all falls with lesbain fetishing because you deny that your not feitshing over lesbians right? But always claim to go out of your way to call them lesbian and draw porn of them 24/7 sexualizing them but it's okay according to Izzy in their delusional fantasy world. 

conclusion, your fucking delusional and immature as fuck, you are damn well 18 years old on the Internet bullying minors, fetishing, and acting as child as you seem enough already, your the literal definition of second hand embarrassment and dont know what anything means because nothing clicks in your small ass brain, i wouldn't even be surprised if you dont respond to this yourself, because your a flat out pussy with being called out and get your friends to defend you because you can't defend yourself in your own battles, its really sad that you can't even defend yourself on this, because your scared and you know damn well im right about everything; gonna pull the hit block button and talk shit on your tweets what happened to "I dont want to bring this stuff on twitter.." because your using this attention seeking at this point. You realize nobody feels bad about you, I don't care if I'm being rude or not this is straight facts, your also an adult so stop acting like a fucking child and act your age it's sad to say I'm just a year younger then you and i act more mature then you, i dont spend my time playing with bonnie and monty dolls dressing them up everyday, do adults even do that.. like honestly this is so fucking sad to see, so moral of the story, grow up, stop bullying minors, and learn how to defend yourself in these situations, good day or night. 

[philtatosbuck]

just so we’re clear even if i end up hating every single character in twilight i will still always hate the guy who forced himself on bella (and thought it was funny when she got mad!) and then, on an entirely separate occasion, guilt tripped her by threatening suicide, the most.

(yes, we are acknowledging smeyers is racist, and wrote the wolves disrespectfully. no, that does not excuse all of jacob’s actions.)

[fnaf-a-palooza]

Ever since.. 7 hours ago when I saw Mark’s first episode of fnaf security breach, i’ve now fallen in love with sun and moon. They’re psychotic, I love it. I want yandere hcs for both of them seperately or it can be like in the games where they kinda switch around.

Oh anon BIG SAME!! I just love the vibes the two give off (love me some silly but slightly unhinged characters) and I've mentioned this on my yandere blog, but Kellen killed it with the voice! I'll be doing the two separately and as one for this! There was also another request for just Sunnydrop but sfw and spicy hcs but I will write those out in another post. Hope you all enjoy!

Warning: Yandere Themes!

Sunnydrop

• An extremely clingy yandere to the max. He's always vying for your attention because he love you oh so much! Whether it be calling out to you in order to show you something or, unfortunately, forcefully  dragging you around. Sunny only does the latter when nothing else is working for him. It's difficult to find time for yourself, honestly and more so when he refuses to be away from you for more than a few minutes. Literally attached to the hip with you.

• That being said, he loves physical affection! He takes any chance to hold, squeeze, tap, and just any form of touch when it comes to you. Personal boundaries,,, is something he tends to forget exist so there is that to worry about. You would have to remind him of such if you ever grow uncomfortable, which saddens him but he doesn't want to drive you away. That is one of his biggest fears; practically will become hysterical if that outcome were to prove his fears true.

• Because of this, he gets antsy when you hang out with others. He's truly holding back from shoving himself into the conversation and diverting you away from those people. He does get impulsive during these moments but he sometimes will think things through and make up very valid excuses to get your attention steer towards him at least. Slight chance he might manipulate/guilt trip you into spending more time with you. And example of his guilt tripping would be him crying to you that everyone seems to dislike him because of how he is and that you are the few genuine people to care for him. Will you leave him too? Sunnydrop does feel bad about it, but the results make him less guilty about it all.

• Sunnydrop has the tendency to take up all your time and distract you, especially if it's from people you know. If it's a hobby you enjoy, he'll definitely want to engage in it with you! He loves everything you do and would love it even more to learn your likes and dislikes to get closer to you. Absolutely, and unfortunately for you, will take certain actions/words the wrong way.

Moondrop

• Just as suffocating as Sunnydrop,,, but more of a controlling yandere. Like his counterpart, he is someone who follows the rules and wants them to be followed, but in contrast he is more forceful with them. Moondrop is all of Sunnydrop's pent up aggressions and emotions that he'd rather hide from you as he sees them as unpleasant.

• For Moondrop, it takes some time to gain feelings for you, but when it does happen you'll always have the feeling someone is watching you. In his own way, he's looking after you by making sure no one else tries to steal you from him. Basically, Moondrop is very possessive and it's only worse with his aggressive behavior. He doesn't like when people seem to be getting too close and will drive them away, maybe even warding them off enough for them to completely avoid you.

• Honestly though, he likes that idea; the fact that if you see that others are avoiding you may draw you to him. Moondrop is the type of yandere, even though acting hostile, thinks things through a little more than Sunnydrop does. He thinks of ways to get the chance to swipe you away and finally have you by his side. One method would be that he could make you pity him for how people perceive him as or another would be he simply just drives everyone away from you as said before. Either way, he's certainly a manipulative yandere with how crafty he is.

• In his mind, Moondrop 100% believes he knows what's best for you. Should you disagree... Well that just earns you a punishment for even trying to question things. Of course you need him! Why else would he have put so much effort into taking you? Obviously because you're meant to be taken care of and do not worry; he'll take good care of you. Now, since he is a rule enforcer, Moondrop has his own set of regulations for you to follow. Many of them, of course, would involve you not leaving his side or keeping away from others. Breaking the rules results in a penalty and you must atone for it since it's only fair. Rule breakers have to learn a lesson from their mistakes.

Sunnydrop/Moondrop

• Oh boy. Sunnydrop is fearful of Moondrop because he absolutely knows how he acts and again, he finds him unpleasant to deal with. Sunny would know after hearing the complaints from parents and employees. Which is why he is very very stern with his rule to keep the lights on with you. The two semi get along but they obviously have conflicts here and there when it comes to their objectives/methods.

• Moondrop on the other hand believes the other half is too soft and hesitant. Then there's also the fact that he deems Sunny too lenient with people/rules and thinks everyone will believe him as a pushover; something he absolutely hates. How can others know that you are theirs if he isn't truly pushing that fact at them? Those people need to be taught a lesson. He definitely knows what Sunnydrop is doing when he hasn't gotten a chance to hang out with you, which angers him immensely. He's tired of being casted to the side like he doesn't exist.

• Honestly, if there is a chance that the two come to an agreement, it's all over for you... The two have their own advantages and disadvantages, but equally are menaces in their own right. While Sunnydrop can keep you from ever leaving, Moondrop can make sure others steer clear. Trying to escape from them is anxiety inducing as well,,, though that is more so if Moon is the one chasing after you. Sunny will try to convince him to not be too harsh on you, but Moon can't promise much when he sees that being lenient won't teach you anything. You have to take full responsibility for your actions. If Sunnydrop is the one chasing you, he's more likely to make up excuses for your attempts to leave and blames himself sometimes too; promising he'll do better.

[mischiefmanaged71]

The Love Hypothesis (7/22) - Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is a PhD student who wants to prove to her best friend that she has moved on and dating. With no way to prove it, she kisses the first man she sees, which ends up being none other than Dr. Strange, known as one of the most unapproachable and critical professors in the university.

A/N: AU! Stephen Strange is a Professor/Doctor at Columbia University and reader is a Ph.D. student (Reader - 28, Stephen - 34). Credits to Ali Hazelwood for the original story. This work is a piece of fiction. I have no ownership over anything, this is ff.

Pairing: Stephen Strange X FEM! Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Series Masterlist

As the time drew close to 11:00am, Y/N was almost done with Tom’s report. Organised under titles, size 12 font in Times New Roman, each section devoted to its designated focus area. Coming round to enter her lab, she glanced around the room, recognising the lack of women present. Despite trying her most to clear through the constant struggle of being a woman in STEM, she still found herself in a majority-male laboratory. 

Her gaze fell on her lab mate, Greg, who planted himself on the chair opposite with an aggravated noise. “Everything alright?”

“Not. At all.” he grunted.

She offered a sympathetic look, “May I ask why?”

He made eye contact with her, leaning his elbows on the table as he gripped a pen tightly, “Your boyfriend happened.”

“Who?” she blinked and Greg all but, spat his name out.

“Strange.”

Chase, sat next to him, continued, “He’s on Greg’s dissertation committee.”

Her eyebrows raised, “Right. What happened?”

“He failed my proposal.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Greg.”

Greg ran a hand over his face, “This is going to set me back months. It’ll take so long to revise, because Strange just had to nit-pick. I didn’t even want him on my committee. Dr Xavier forced me to add him because he’s so obsessed with stupid computational stuff.”

Y/N sighed, not sure of what response she was supposed to give. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”

Chase cut in, wide-eyed, “Y/N, do you guys talk about this kind of stuff? Did he tell you that he wasn’t going to pass Greg?”

She gaped at him, “What? No. I-we don’t talk about that. It would be against regulations if he did.”

Greg continued on, “God. He is such a dick. Asshole.”

Y/N’s face hardened, hearing people talking about Stephen in that manner. From her end, they weren’t actually dating, but she still felt this sense of guilt and awkwardness, sitting here as they shit-talked her boyfriend.

“Did he tell you why he failed it? What do you need to change?”

“Everything. He wants me to change my control conditions, add another one, which will make the project more time-consuming. It’s not even just that-the way he said it-this air of superiority. He’s so arrogant and high-strung.”

Well, it wasn’t news, but it still hurt to hear. She wasn’t sure what else to say besides another apologetic look. “I’m sorry, that sucks.”

“Yeah, you should be.”

She narrowed her eyes, “Excuse me.”

Chase glanced between them, a tension filling the air. “You’re his girlfriend.”

“And? I am not him. I’m dating him. Do you see the distinction?”

“You’re fine with it all. How he acts - like an asshole on a power trip. You don’t give a shit about the way he treats people, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to stomach being with him.”

“Hey, now. Let’s not-”

Y/N stood from her chair, “No, Chase. Let him.”

Greg and Chase both paused, watching Y/N with a cautious look. 

“I didn’t fail you, Greg. That was Dr. Strange.”

“Maybe, but you don’t care that half of the department lives in fear of your boyfriend either.”

She clenched her jaw, leaning her hands against the bench “You know what your problem is? Instead of focusing on making your project better, you're too focused on your pride. Maybe that’s more to do with you, than a professor with a few suggestions.”

“You obviously don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “What the hell do you want?”

“Get him to stop failing us.”

She laughed, right in his face “Greg. You’re asking the impossible. How is that a rational response for you to have in response to Stephen failing you-”

“Stephen?” he repeated back, watching her meet his gaze and slink back to her side of the bench.

“Yes. Stephen. What else should I call my boyfriend? Professor Strange?” she narrowed her eyes in frustration.

“If you were a half decent person or ally to any grad, you would just dump him.”

“Do you realise how stupid you sound?” 

With no other reason to stay, Greg left the room and Y/N found herself inhaling deeply and allowing her eyes to fall shut.

“He doesn’t mean all of those things, at least about you. He’s just really upset about the review.”

She huffed, “Yeah, whatever.”

“It’s not personal. It’s just...Strange is notorious for failing projects. You know of his reputation, yes?” she nodded in response. “Now you guys are dating and...it shouldn’t feel like a matter of taking sides, but it can feel like it, you know?”

Y/N looked down, unsure of what to feel. Those words stuck with her for the rest of the day as Y/N ran through her schedule. Among her friends, Sam and James had unpleasant experiences with Stephen. After the initial shock of the news, they got over it and it seemed normal. Now, this new perspective shook her for a moment as she thought it over. Tugging her phone from her pocket, she ran through the contacts and to the one she saved under his name.

Y/N: Did you just fail Greg?

She didn’t expect a quick response, but her phone buzzed almost immediately.

Stephen: Y/N?

Y/N: Yes, it’s me. Did you fail Greg Cohen? I ran into him after his meeting with you and he was very distraught.

Stephen: I can’t discuss other grad’s dissertation meetings with you.

Y/N: I know. I’m not asking you to tell me anything. Greg already used me as a punching bag, so it was pretty clear how he felt.

Y/N: Because I’m your 'girlfriend'

Because of you. Because we're dating

A moment passed as Stephen was typing.

Stephen: Committees don’t fail students. They fail their proposals.

She huffed.

Y/N: Tell that to Greg, Stephen.

Stephen: I did. I explained to him the weaknesses in his study. He’ll write up a new proposal and then I’ll sign it off for his dissertation.

Y/N: So you admit that it was your decision to fail his proposal?

Stephen: Yes, currently, his proposal is not going to find anything of scientific value.

Y/N sighed, staring at the screen. How could he just ignore the fact of the situation? Fragments of her previous conversation flickered in her mind and she took the plunge.

Y/N: Couldn’t you have tried to word it in a nicer way?

Stephen: Why?

Y/N: I don’t know, maybe so he wasn’t so upset. He seemed very angry.

Stephen: My job isn’t to coddle grad students. He’s in a Ph.D. program. He’ll be inundated his whole life if he can’t take a bit of feedback on his project.

Y/N: Still, maybe try not to look like you enjoy delaying his graduation.

Stephen: The reason he needs to revise his proposal is because it’s set up to fail in its current state. My job on the committee is to provide feedback and that is what he got.

Y/N: Do you realise you fail more people than anyone else? Your criticism is unnecessarily harsh. You have to know how grads view you.

Stephen: I don’t.

Y/N: Antagonistic. And unapproachable.

A moment passed before he began typing again and the message flickered on her screen.

Stephen: My job is to ensure we nurture researchers and scientists, not clutter academia with terrible and mediocre scientists. I could care less about how your friends perceive me if I work up to standard. Not everyone has what it takes to be a scientist.

Y/N stared at the screen, her heart hammering in her chest with each word. She had barely slept properly the last few weeks because of her report and extra work. Hearing those words repeated back to her was not only disappointing, but filled with a sense of inferiority as the words blinked at her.

She had to make this path especially for herself just to be accepted into a position in the program. So it was easy for her to simply leave him on read.

***

“Go right.”

“Got it.” Sam flicked the turn signal, “Going right.”

“Don’t listen to Steve. Go left.” Natasha said.

Steve leaned forward and swatted Natasha’s arm, “Don’t listen to her, Nat’s never been to this farm. It’s on the right.”

“Oh, my god.” Y/N exclaimed, “I’ve got Maps open and its says...” she trailed off, “its on the left.”

“Google maps is wrong.” Steve replied.

“It can’t be wrong.” Y/N’s face scrunched.

“What do I do?” Sam made a face to Y/N in the rear-view mirror as she held her phone. “Left or right, Y/N?”

“Right. If it’s wrong, we circle back.” She quickly shot Nat an apologetic look, but she knew Steve wore a smug look.

“That’ll make us late. God, I had these stupid picnics.” Sam groaned.

“We’re already one hour late. I doubt being any later will make a difference.” 

Her stomach grumbled after rushing out to meet up with the group. The argument with Stephen almost made her skip, but then they would all know. She could’ve used the time to work in the lab, but now she was here.

“Don’t worry, Sam. We’ll get there eventually. Oh god, why is it so hot? I brought sunblock, by the way. No one is going anywhere until they put it on.”

When the arrived, the picnic was bustling around, faculty members crowded around a station, grads mingling and playing sports. Making eye contact with Dr. Xavier, Y/N happily waved and smiled. Glancing over at the various games going on, she watched another group in a circle.

“What are they playing?” she squinted, the sun catching her eyes. 

Nat responded, handing Y/N the bottle of sunscreen “Ultimate frisbee. I don’t know.”

“Sounds fake.”

“You know what isn’t?”

“What?” she looked at Nat.

“Melanoma. Now, put the sunscreen on.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Y/N grinned, taking the bottle, “Is there any food left?”

“None if you don’t count corn bread.”

“Do not eat that.” Steve replied, “Jess said that a pharmacology major first-year sneezed all over it. Where did Sam go?"

“Parking-holy shit!”

“What?” Y/N jumped, looking around before returning to Nat, “What, Nat?”

“Holy. Shit.” she grabbed Y/N’s face and shoved her in the direction ahead of her. Her eyes widened, heart racing all too fast at the sight.

“Is that Strange?” Steve remarked, “Is that him running around shirtless?”

“Shit. Is that a six-pack?” Nat exclaimed, looking at Y/N with a bewildered look. Y/N stared in amaze all the same as he moved around under the sun.

“Is he actually sculpted that way?” Nat nudged Steve.

Sam arrived back, without food, of course. “Was that under his shirt the entire time he was destroying my dissertation? Y/n/n, you didn't tell us he was ripped."

Y/N was just as stumped, glued to the ground. Arms limp at her sides, she remained frozen while staring at his form. She had seen the outline of his body, but not-never like this. 

“Unbelievable.” Nat grabbed the bottle, squeezing the sunscreen onto her hands, “I’ll start putting on your arms and you do your legs.”

“Nat, calm down. I’ll get to it.” 

“Quick, before you get too much exposure.”

The others were throwing around questions about the actual studies on melanoma and skin cancer, but she wasn’t listening. Y/N was still absorbed in her boyfriend, forgetting to correct herself, and just where he had to be right now. She wished to be anywhere else right now.

Nat suddenly squeezed another large amount of slabbed it into her hand. “Hey!”

“There. Now you are protected against carcinoma. Sounds scary on its own.”

“Ugh. This is so oily.” Y/N groaned, “What am I supposed to do all of this? Where did Sam go?”

“He’s over there with Jordan.”

“Jordan?”

“Yeah, she’s a fifth-year-”

“Oh, my god, guys. Fix this now, Nat before I dump it on your head.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Alright. Alright, you are so dramatic.” waving her hand to someone behind Y/N, “Hey! Dr. Strange! Have you put on sunscreen yet?”

Y/N’s eyes bulged, wanting to hide as Nat continued to wave him over. In the span of a few seconds, she wished desperately to strangle her friend. Her brain told her not to turn around. “No.” she heard him say from afar.

Spotting the pile in Y/N’s hands, it was pretty obvious what Nat had intended as she smiled at Y/N knowingly. “You do realise how inappropriate this would be, right?” she hissed.

“Why?” Nat blinking at her innocently, “I put sunscreen on Steve all the time,” squeezing an amount and slapping his face. “I am putting sunscreen on my boyfriend. Do you think its inappropriate to protect him from getting melanoma?” Am I inappropriate?” she shone.

Y/N would murder her when they were alone.

Finally turning to Stephen, she met his eyes for the first time since their argument and it all seemed to dissipate away. She would have apologised, but this was out of her control now. Nat had a radar for this sort of thing now. She waved and he nodded, throwing the frisbee to Dr. Reyes, “I’m taking five!”

They were really doing this in front of everyone.

“Hey,” he said once he was close enough.

“Hey,” she tried to avoid looking at his chest but it was right there in front of her. “Can you turn around?”

He paused before following her request. “Duck a bit.” she suggested.

Soon enough, she was slathering the sunscreen on his back, trying hard not to think about all of the people staring at them. It wasn’t the first time she touched him before, but the intimacy of touching someone’s skin was a little uncomfortable in front of all these people. Many, of which, she knew. Faculty included. 

“This probably isn’t a good time, but I’m probably running out of apologies for these weird situations.”

“It’s fine.” she felt the vibration of his voice against her hand as she moved to cover his shoulder. 

“Really though. I don’t know what it is...” she trailed off.

“It isn’t your fault,” he continued, a slight change in his voice that she caught.

“Are you alright?” she froze up.

“Yeah,” he nodded, although she was hesitant to move on.

“How much do you hate this on a scale of the scenarios we’ve found ourselves in? Where does slathering sunscreen on you in front of the entire science cohort fall?”

“I don’t hate it. And this isn’t your fault. Again.” he repeated.

“This is probably the worst thing-”

“It isn’t, Y/N. These things will continue to keep happening.” he turned to look at her, a hint of amusement in his eyes at her discomfort.

“Figures.” she huffed, blowing her hair from her face, the breath brushing Stephen’s face. He stole some of the sunscreen from her palm and rubbed it on his chest. Dr Xavier was probably watching them, along with the rest of the Ph.D. program. “I am regretting befriending Nat right about now. She’s getting out of control.”

She ducked around to get the front of his shoulders, “Hey, at least that part of our plan is working out. The Department chair definitely can’t miss this. You looked like you were having fun.” brushing the sunscreen along his collarbone.

Her face burned, freezing as he paused “I meant playing frisbee. Or whatever.”

“Beats small talk.”

“Hey, you’re doing fine now.” she mustered a smile. “You must have played sports growing up, I suppose. Explains why you’re-”

“Antagonistic. And unapproachable?”

Her smile dropped, faltering to a guilt expression as she froze up. She looked down from her stance, “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to-”

Catching the slightest curve of his mouth, she tilted her head and huffed out a breathy laugh, “You little s-” she would have slapped the rest on his head if not for his grin that caught her off-guard. 

She shook her head. So what if he was attractive and handsome. That was a fact. Just an observation that she had taken into account. Nothing more. 

Once she was done with the sunscreen application, she rubbed her hands together, “Alright. Good to go, Dr. Antagonistic.”

“Thanks.” he remarked, “Thank Nat, I guess.”

“Not gonna happen.” she replied, a smirk on her face as she gestured for him to go back to his game.

“What do you think is next?”

“Maybe she’ll elevate her game.”

“Hand holding.”

“Fake-move in together.”

“Fake wedding.”

“Fake-honeymoon?”

Y/N laughed, but the way he looked at her threw her off. It was attentive and curious. The way one might focus on every word. 

“Hey, Y/N,” she turned to Tom who approached them. He too was shirtless and fit, and yet for some reason or another, she didn’t see to care.

“Hi, Tom. Loved your talk the other day.” she smiled.

“It was good, wasn’t it? Did Stephen tell you about our change of plans?”

Her smile faltered, “What change of plans?”

“We’ve made progress on the grant, so were going to Boston next week. We’ll finish setting up the stuff on the Harvard side.”

She slowly nodded, understanding and yet felt a disturbance as Stephen forgot to mention it. Or he chose not to. Either case, she was pushing it aside. He was a grown man and he didn’t necessarily have to tell her everything in his life. It wasn’t as if she were his real girlfriend anyway.

“That’s great news.” she smiled warmly, “How long will you be gone for?”

“Just a few days.” Tom’s tone was quiet, “Would you be able to send your report by Saturday so we can discuss it while I’m still here?”

Something sparked in her chest as she blinked at him numbly. She forced a smile on her face, “Sure, course. I’ll send it to you Saturday.” She surely wouldn’t sleep at all this week.

She mumbled under breath, “No problem.”

“Perfect.” Tom winked, but it was anything but. “You going back to play?” he turned to Stephen who nodded and followed.

Shuffling back to her friends was the awkward moment of scanning for watching eyes after what had happened.

“So, what’s he like?”

“Who?”

“Strange.” Nat asked, “I should say Stephen, shouldn’t I? You don’t call him Dr. Strange do you? Because if you’re into that-I do not need to know.”

“Natasha.” she blinked, aghast at the implication.

“Yeah, I’m curious. How is he any different when he’s with you? Or does he also critique the font size for the labels of your x and y-axis?”

A smirk appeared on her mouth as she imagined him saying just that. “No. Haven’t gotten that yet.”

“What is he like, then?”

“He’s...” she paused, staring off.

“He’s?” Nat pressed.

“You know.” 

“We don’t. There must be more than meets the eye. He’s so moody and negative, and angry-”

She wet her lips, interrupting Nat “He’s more than you guys think. He isn’t like that. He can be some of those things, sometimes. Just as the rest of us.”

“If you say so.” Nat shrugged, “How did you even meet? You never told me."

"We just talked and then got coffee. And then..."

"How does that happen?" Steve interrupted, "How does one accept a date with Strange? Before seeing him half-naked, that is. He's not exactly the most inviting character."

You kiss him. You kiss him twice and then he's helping you convince all of your friends that you're in love. He is saving you and buying you coffee. He's calling you a smart-ass and calling you out on your weirdly specific questions. And then you insult him and probably ruin it all.

"He asked me out and I said yes." She repeated to them, staring almost defiantly to make them believe it.

"You didn't meet on Tinder?"

She sighed, "No. I'm not even on Tinder."

"So...does that imply Strange was?"

She rolled her eyes, "No it does not."

"I suppose his profile would be very bland anyway." Nat remarked.

"Who is saying we met on Tinder?"

"Everyone. Someone said Craigslist." Sam cut in, tracking back to the group, although his gaze was set on Hayden Reyes in the distance.

"Craigslist?"

"Not saying that people believe it."

"Who are these people you're talking about? And why do they care about my relationship?"

Nat brushed her shoulder, "Don’t worry. This will all blow over and all the rumours will die. Dr. Moss and Sloane had a very public argument about..." She drew an arm around Y/N, "Hey. Everything will be fine."

"I know some people may be hyper fixated on this, but Steve, Sam and I - we are so happy for you." she added.

TAGS

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[cvlutos]

"NOTHING GOOD HAPPENS AFTER DARK"

RIDDLE R. v LEONA K. [FEM! READER]

| MATURE | 3.4K | 01.31.23 |

ALICE IN WONDERLAND x RED RIDING HOOD [CROSSOVER]

WARNINGS: DARK CONTENT | YANDERE | VIOLENCE | PREDATOR n’ PREY | HUNTING | BLOOD | SUGGESTIVE | IMPLIED MURDER | PERSECTIVE JUMPS | SPECIES DISCRIMINATION | ETC | BE CAUTIOUS, BELOVED

T.MANOR: TRYING A NEW LAYOUT AND WRITING STYLE. ALSO THIS IS PRETTY MESSY WRITING SO BE AWARE, CAUSE I WAS JUST WRITING

| PART TWO |

| MALE!VER | GN!VER |

EVERY Tuesday, exactly at noon, does the stone clock tower chime. Without delay, you hear the sound of trumpets, the marching of hooves, as the golden gates of the palace open. Wide and big, as the card soldiers, in perfect position, march upon horses of black and white, wearing that of red with swords attached to their hips and spears within their hands. Preparing for the Queen’s weekly hunt. The crowd cheers, waves banners, as they yell sayings of good luck.

The cobblestone path is tight, crowded with people, big and small, infants to the elderly, all in hopes of seeing the benevolent Queen off. Even if this same celebration will happen next week as well. In seeing him in all his grandeur. Something you’d "sadly" miss, with your woven basket tight in hand, warm and heavy from the fresh baked delights, all from the Clover bakery. You shimmy through the tight crowd, moving in the opposite direction and were, quite frankly, in the way, even as you walk along the side house and store walls. You mummer ‘excuse me’ and apologize as you go, giving sheepish grins to those who spared you a glance.

You would rather be at home, yet you promised your mother you would go. You promised to go to the bakery, to buy your grandmother’s favorite treats and sweets and deliver them to her. She lives just outside the town and in the center of the thick woods, just on the other side in a small cottage in the middle of the northern woods. A journey you’ve made countless times, and on less crowded days. Yet today, your mother was extra worried, extra concerned for your grandmother’s well being. Even if you promised, you’d go first thing in the morning tomorrow. Yet she forced you anyway. Well, guilt-tripped you into going.

‘What if she’s already dead? Hm? What would you do then?’

Return home? Tell the authorities? Cry? Yet the look on her face told you she didn’t want any back talk, so you gave in and left.

You forced yourself further down the path, spotting the familiar opening that you’ve always taken. The town you live in is surrounded by a large stone wall. Tall and thick, with only one way out of the village, and one way in. Yet this impenetrable wall has a hole, fairly big, that anyone could fit their largest ox. So you had no trouble merely crawling or walking through. The alley that led to your secret path was uncrowded, as if waiting for you and you alone.

You shimmy forward, pushing past local residents. Some allowed room for you, having noticed you, others merely rolled their eyes. You pop your head past the road barricade, searching the long stone road. The card soldiers were far. Far away to where you could make it without interrupting them, or them even noticing you. You step over the thick string, glancing one more time, before you make haste. Darting onto the clear, wide road. Ignoring shouts and gasps as you make your way to the alley. Stopping to catch your breath, you turn around. Some of the crowd are merely laughing you off, others completely ignoring, some glared at you disappointedly, yet none made a move to call the guards on you. Your eyes scan the road. You hadn’t dropped anything, and if you did, you’re sure no one would even notice.

Slightly proud of yourself, you continue on, moving past the eccentric alley system, moving quickly past houses and shops, jogging towards the large wall.

You’d be fine.

══════ ♡ ══════

"HALT."

The crowd becomes silent, and everything pauses. A send off has never once stopped. The Red Queen, golden crown glinting in the sun, his hand raised high. His horse stands still, the same confident and demanding energy as his owner, bows his head, as the Queen flows off the saddle. Heels clicking against the stone road. He walks forward, taking exactly five precise steps, before crouching, leather gloved fingers swiping along the stone. How he saw just a small thing, no one will ever know. The squished remains of strawberry cream cheese tart, a small delight. He rubs the cream between his fingers before rising just as quickly, holding out his hand for a napkin. It appears within a second. He turns on his heel, glaring eyes scouring the crowd, before landing on an older man.

"You! Who ran across here!?"

"Uh! I have no clue, your—your majesty." He gives an embarrassed, clumsy bow, keeping his eyes glued to the ground. "Then you tell me?" The Queen looks at another, a young woman, who automatically stiffens her posture, face paling.

"A-a woman! A young woman. With—with a wooden basket and red cape." The crowd nods along eagerly.

"In which direction?"

Multiple hands point towards the alley, all in fear to face the Queen’s wrath. With a single snap, five card soldiers appear by his side. "Search for the one with a red hood. Such disrespect shall not be tolerated." There’s a chorus of ‘yes! your majesty.’ Yet not a soul moving til the Queen re-asummed his position upon his horse. "We will resume! While in search of this Red Hood!" His voice is thunderous, and as if nothing happened, everything returns to normal.

══════ ♡ ══════

The leaves crunch beneath your feet. As you continue your long trek, the path is winding and bumpy, covered in wild leaves and branches, the cobblestone hidden beneath the foliage. The basket sways within your hand as you walk and wander along the familiar path. The cool breeze flutters your crimson cloak, and you pull the hood to cover your head and protect your ears. Wishing to have worn pants instead of trying to be cute with your red skirt and white knee-length stocking.

The Queendom is never cold, unless the Queen desires cold weather.

It always remains at the perfect temperature, always a warm summer breeze and a perfect summer day. And as you venture deeper into the woods and further away from the Queendom, the cobblestone path slowly crumbles and slowly turns to dirt. You stop at the threshold, glancing behind you. Something about today seems different.

You hope it’ll be a good day.

You venture into the woods.

══════ ♡ ══════

"Ruggie. I’m heading out. Ill be back."

He lets out a low yawn, stretching his muscles as he walked towards the cave entrance, not giving Ruggie, his right hand, a chance to respond, leaving the hyena beastman to do whatever it is he’s doing. He pushes past the thick vines of the cave, leaving the warmth of the cave and giving a shallow nod to a young wolf beastman who currently was guarding the large camp, with the others like him. "Ill be back before dawn."

"It’s after noon? And the Queen and his guard is hunting today. Far from us, but still. Are you sur—" The lazy king gives a short wave, swatting away the beastman’s concerns, stifling another yawn, leisurely wiping tired tears from his eyes, while the wolf opened his mouth to speak.

"Jack!" The duo looks towards the urgent voices. Two young beastmen, a young tiger and an older bear, both you jogged frantically, seemingly having to run across the majority of the temporary camp. They slow to a stop, giving a quick bow to their pride leader before turning to Jack.

"The Queen’s Knights. Theres five of them! Theyre asking for you presence!"

"Of course. I’m on my way. Leona—" Jack turns to their sleepy leader, only to find the place where he stood empty. He’s brows furrow, before quickly giving up and motioning for the two to lead the way.

The Queendom of Roses and the Pride of Kingscholar. While the Queen occupies the Northern woods, the Kingscholar current occupies the East portion. Over months of arguments and fights, the Kingscholar Pride has been slowly forced to the outskirts and south, while the Queendom slowly takes over the North and East.

Jack and the two beastmen run side by side, running towards the end of the camp, coming across the five poised card guards. They all sit on white pristine horses, not moving an ounce as Jack slows and straightens out his white button-up shirt. "Where is Leona Kingscholar? We shall only speak to one of authority." The voice is muffled by his thick metal helmet, clasping to his reins and swords.

"He’s away. What you need can be spoken back to him." Jack crosses his arm, keeping a scowl upon his lips as the knight scoffs.

"I shouldn’t expect more from your kind," Jack clicks his tongue but doesn’t speak, letting the knight continue, "There’s a human girl in red. She has ruined the Queen’s sendoff and thus must receive punishment. If you find her, you know best to hand her over immediately."

"I have no such obligations."

"Right—" You can hear the confidence in his voice, as he shifts the reins, getting ready to move, "It’s only best to consume your meat fresh. I hope you don’t get red fabric between your fangs, wolf." Jack gives a low growl as the horse becomes spooked, rushing over, earning a yelp from the knight and gasps from the other silent four. They watch the group ride off into the forest, before letting out a huff.

"Jack. What should we do?"

The tiger beastman speaks first, which earns a thoughtful sigh from the wolf beastman. "Nothing. I’m sure Leona will find the girl before we do. Continue as you were." Jack turns on his heels, rolling his shoulders as both boys shout and eager ‘yes’. This camp is only temporary until they reach the eastern mountain’s summit, and beyond that will be the savannas once you cross the mountains. Something Leona has been avoiding for the longest time.

══════ ♡ ══════

The farther you walk, the darker the woods get. Yet the twisting and winding path doesn’t lead you astray, a path in which you're acquainted with. And as the trees grow closer and the leaves block the sun, it feels colder, as luminescent mushrooms and flowers that grow alongside the path glow in hints of blue and yellows, give you little light, while pollen that glows a soft purple flutters through the air. It’s absolutely enchanting, with towering thick trees and small sections which sunlight peeks through, highlighting the vibrant green plants and bushes. You hum softly, playing different games as you walk, occasionally eating one of your grandmother’s snacks.

"Youre quite far."

You screech, nearly jumping out of your skin at the new presence of a voice. You look around and see no one. Your heart pounds against your ribcage. After a few moments, you left out a huff, slowly calming yourself.

"Especially during the Tyrant’s Hunt," There’s a low chuckle that sends shudders down your spine and you look around frantically, "He might very well mistake you for a deer." A rock zooms past your head, barely missing you and striking the tree behind you. Your body stiffens.

"Can you not speak?" It’s taunting and drawn out and you shiver as if ghost hands caress your body.

"What do you want—?"

"Now that is the question," The voice lets out a low hum, and you hear the shuffling of plants, "I am quite hungry."

You get a horrible feeling, and nearly trip, as something, or a someone, bolts through the thicket. A lion beastman. Before you can react, nails digging into your shoulders, and the new weight forces you to fall back, and momentum pushes you and him to roll over yourselves. Until you're once again on your back, with the air from your lungs. Your eyes fly open, staring into amused deep emerald green eyes. You wince at the feelings of nails digging into your shoulders, close to breaking your skin and making you bleed, but he doesn’t. Only giving you the sensation of nails breaking skin. Your heels dig into the earth as you desperately try to regain your breath.

"Oh… Dont look like that. You act like I’m going to eat you. Well," His hands move from your shoulders, letting you crawl backwards and away as he rested on the balls of his feet, forearms resting on his thighs as he tilts his head to the side. Eyes trailing you up and down, staring at the expansion of your bare thighs and legs, a low whistle slipping past his lips. "I might. In a more human way." A shiver rolls down your spine as you use your cape to cover your legs. He visibly looks displeased as he looks at your face.

"Little Red Riding Hood on the run from the Queen." He hums and youre eyes widen as you stagger to your feet.

"What? I didn’t do anything?!"

"Doesn’t seem that way," his tail flicks lazily, his finger drawing in the dirt in clear boredom, "you somehow made the little tyrant mad." He stands and you step away, he makes no move toward you. Green eyes gazing around the forest before stopping and landing on the path, in the direction in which you came. You follow his gaze and when you look back, the lion beastman is extremely close, his nose brushing against yours. You jump away and he rests a hand on his hips, while the other holds out your forgotten basket.

"I would get going little red. Unless you want to be headless."

You take your basket and glanced the path, you could hear the pounding of hooves. You grimace before turning around, sharing one more glance at the beastman before darting down the path, back onto the road to grandmother’s house.

══════ ♡ ══════

There’s six. Six horses, five knights, one tyrant.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, kicking up dirt and letting out a yawn, he was pretty hungry. Maybe you’d and your grandmother might make a good snack after he’s done here. He counts the seconds before the Tyrant comes into view, an ever-permanent scowl upon his youthful face. He’s pristine and upon seeing Leona, he ordered his soldiers to stop and with ease slides off his horse and marches 10 steps before glaring at the Lion Beastman.

"Queen’s rules dictate that youre not allowed within the northern forest on Tuesday afternoons. In all honesty, I should send you and your pride further east for such disrespect of the Queens’s rules." His words are venomous, speaking precisely that has his knights flinching even if the words weren’t for them.

"It’s Tuesday? I had no idea. Oops." Using his pinky finger, he cleans out his ear with a bored expression, earning a harder glare as the Queen struggles to remain calm.

"No matter. Do what you want. I have more pressing matters." He holds out his hand, and immediately, a parchment scroll is placed within his hands. The Queendom of Roses has always been the most efficient and quick. Undoing the rolled parchment and holding up the paper, your face was drawn most beautifully, a perfect reflection almost.

"Pretty isn’t she." Leona furrows his brows, watching the Tyrant marvel at the photo, the beastman’s nose scrunches in disgust.

"What are you on, Riddle?" Gasps and quick inhales come from the knights, yet the Queen doesn’t seem to mind, only few can call him by his name.

"If you must know. She ruined my send off, and I assumed she was some ruffian. But to now see such a drawing of her. She is quite cute and I am in need of a King," He tilts her head with a gleeful grin, that seemed misplaced and lovesick, "Though I will have to break her in, make her more obedient. But I’m sure it’ll be worth it."

"You truly are sick." Riddle face morphs from love-struck to angry, rolling up the parchment delicately, before clearing his throat.

"I suggest you go. Unless—" A arrow shoots past Riddle's head and grazes the fullness of Leona’s cheek before striking the tree behind him. Green eyes widen a mere fraction, and the tyrant beholds the tiniest smile. The card soldiers weren’t mere decoration, yet they aren’t that smart either. One of them must be a skilled huntsman.

"You know what I am capable of. I hate to have to make you my target instead."

The leader of his pride rolls his shoulders lazily, with his thumb wiping away the blood on his cheek. "Absolutely. Id hate to make you angry. Now if you’ll excuse me, this lion is quite hungry." And without another word, the lion stalks into the unknown of the woods.

══════ ♡ ══════

The path to grandmother’s house seems a lot longer than it usually does. Usually you’d be at her tiny cottage within an hour or two, yet it feels like days since you entered the woods and encountered the lion beastman. As if the forest was alive, living, breathing. As if the path beneath you were snakes whose bodies twisted and turned, knocking you off your feet.

You land with a hard thud, shaking your head. The forest is darker than before. How long has it been? You know the path and you know it well yet; you search your surroundings lazily, feeling as if you were submerged in thick oil, and the word seemed muffled. You spot vibrant red mushrooms that seemed to inflate before releasing a thick white gas. Hallucinations. They’re carnivorous mushrooms, but they’re never active during the day, nor on the path. They’re new. As if purposely planted, but that’s ridiculous.

And it couldn’t possibly be night.

No.

You struggle to your feet, gripping the basket and meandering.

Walking.

Walking.

Walking.

Walking.

Walking.

Walking.

Walking.

Until a beacon.

Off to the side of the path, nestled in between two large trees, if you walked further down the path you’ll come across the small cottage village, with her golden porch light, was your grandmother’s house. With her stone walls and wooden roof were covered in moss and mushrooms, while her red painted door was visible. You pick up your pace, stumbling occasionally as you reach her rickety wooden porch, a wide grin upon your lips as you knock on the old door.

"Grandma!" You call through the wood, yet no reply. You grab the gold doorknob, turning it and slowly pushing the door inside, letting yourself in.

It’s the same as you remember, with the fireplace on, with fresh logs. There was no collection of dust, and the couch looked recently sat on. Her throw blanket and decor pillows were out of place. You close the door behind you, slipping off your shoes, and placed the basket on the dining room table. While undoing the strings of your cape and calling out to your grandma. You move deeper into her home, before reaching her bedroom. You knock.

"Oh, darling! I’m feeling quite sick, but come in. Come in." Her voice sounds the same, and your tense shoulders drop, as a smile spreads across your face as you open the door. Only to find her bed empty and made, with the window wide open. You step further into the room, looking around, before you hear a soft click and you spin around, only to find the lion beastman from before. He isn’t looking at you, but instead squeezing a small bird.

"Mimic birds are quite useful. Able to mimic to the voice of anyone and anything once they hear it." He releases the bird, and it frantically flies out the window. You step back. "You—My grandma!" You suck in a panicked breath and the man only shrugs. Striding his way towards you, his hand moving faster than you could comprehend to grab your face and squeeze your cheeks.

"What do you think—" His free arm slides around your waist and forces your close, you try to push him away, "I did. Maybe I ate her. Gobbled her up like a big bad wolf," He faux pouts before clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes in personal annoyance, "Or lion, that fits better doesn’t it." He shakes your head aggressively, speaking like a mother would to a child when they’re fussy,

"Maybe ill eat you up. Wouldn’t you just like that—" He lets you break away with a laugh, watching your glare, and he tilts his head and eyes moving out the window.

You can hear horses.

ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[furiousgoldfish]

Tactics of narcissistic abuse

Love Bombing & Mirroring are tactics to gain your favour. These will come from a narcissist you’re just getting to know and they’re trying to convince you they’re your perfect partner, soulmate, best friend, ideal lover. Love bombing is showering you with over-the-top affection and support, they’re likely to see what works best on you, then give you just that. They’ll convince you that you’re special and make you feel special, whether it’s with attention, gifts, promises, love phrases, or making you look and feel very good in front of other people. If they can spin this as fate or destiny, they will. You have one lucky coincidence? It’s destiny that you met. They’ll create the image of ‘it’s us against the world’ and convince you that they’re all you need to never be alone, unappreciated or unhappy again. They will say phrases like 'We were born to be together’ or 'You’re the only one who understands’ and make you feel like you’re in a romance film.  Mirroring is the way to convince you that they are just like you, your perfect match. They do this by pretending they want the same things as you. All of your opinions will be shared, your desires will be their desires too, however you want to live, that’s now their ideal life too. If you want children, so do they, if you want to live in a cottage, so do they.

These will be repeated until you feel like you finally got something perfect from life, you commit to them and trust them completely. You will become lenient with your boundaries and disregard minor red flags, because hey, you finally found love, or someone like yourself who makes your life better. These are crucial to keep you around for a long time; the illusion of happiness and perfect companionship you always wanted will keep you holding onto them in hope that things could once again, be this perfect for you. You will not want to let go of them even after the love bombing and mirroring is long gone. Love bombing and mirroring are not indicative of how they’re planning to treat you once you’re committed to them; as soon as they feel you are ready to fight for a life with them, roles will change and you will have to endure escalating abuse from this person, endlessly.

Scapegoats and people badly damaged by trauma will often not get the full love bombing or mirroring, narcissists will be able to win our devotion by acts of basic decency, small thoughtfulness and acting tolerant of our trauma symptoms, this will feel like everything to us, and once we decide this is a good, special person who makes us feel safe and we’d do anything for them, they’ll turn and exploit us endlessly.

Only way to spot this on time is: there will be a little voice of suspicion in your head going ’Isn’t this actually a little too perfect to be real? A little too convenient and ideal?’ and you will not want to listen to that voice. You should listen to it. It’s your instinct, trying to tell you something is off. I won’t blame you if you don’t. Most people won’t just walk away from their ideal partner because things seem 'too perfect’. But, get suspicious at least. Alert to red flags.

Enablers and Flying Monkeys

Narcissists can’t abuse if they’re on their own; they will work hard to build a reputation and charm people who they can later use for purposes of enabling, triangulating, controlling, scapegoating and smear campaigns. Enablers, or Flying Monkeys, are people who are either admiring the narcissists, want to be in narcissists good favour, are trauma bond and scared of the narcissists, are emotionally manipulated or simply too cowardly to point out that the narcissists is wrong and cruel. Most people will fall under the influence and want to be on narcissists side because it’s easier, tempting, feels safer, and doesn’t require much thinking. Narcissist will sometimes emotionally manipulate people to go do their dirty work; they will cry about how they miss their runaway children so flying monkeys would harass and judge children for running away, they will invent stories of abuse and insanity of their spouse so people would shame and judge the spouse who the narcissist is abusing. They create environment in which they can keep abusing and other people will jump to defend, justify, victim-blame and further confuse the victim. “They had a hard life”, “They’re your mother/father/uncle, you have to forgive them” or “He’s not that bad” are the phrases you’ll hear from enablers and flying monkeys. The term “Flying Monkey” is taken from the Wizard of Oz, because the Wicked Witch owned an army of brainless flying monkeys who would do her bidding – much how narcissists do with their enablers.

What enablers are doing is absolutely wrong. They should not be ready to defend abuse, or excuse and justify it, or believe and act on smear campaigns, not for any reason. They are hurting and isolating the victim, and regardless of how much they suck up to the narcissist, they will eventually become the targets too. Victims are right to cut out enablers just how they’re right to cut out abusers. You do not have to suffer for their cowardice or stupidity.

Triangulation is a form of abuse where narcissist brings another person into the relationship in order to bypass your boundary. For instance, you refuse to speak to the narcissist, so they send your family members, friends, or their friends, to talk to you about how much you’re hurting the narcissist and how cruel and unfair you’re being. Or, you’re trying to set a boundary in your marriage, and suddenly a friend or a relative comes talking to you about how unreasonable it is to set such awful boundary and to think of your spouse’s feelings and how bad they have it. Narcissist may try to use you for triangulation too, for example, they might tell you 'Go tell your sister she should do xyz and she’s making a mistake, she’ll listen to you’. It’s implied you agree with the narcissist, and that both of you are doing it for the sister’s good, when it’s more likely the narcissist is trying to force this person to do something they’re deeply set against and would only serve the narcissist. Narcissists will use their children to triangulate a marriage, they will often 'gang up’ other family members on their spouse, or one of the children. If you’re the victim, you’ll find yourself cornered, isolated, and in doubt whether you’re doing the right thing, trying to establish a boundary. Narcissists will also often show affection, compassion or even love to a third person simply to make you jealous and worried that something is wrong with you since you don’t get the same treatment. It’s what creates an illusion that the entire world is agreeing with the narcissist and no matter what you do, you look unreasonable for fighting them.

Narcissists will sometimes invent completely boogus scenarios and try to terrify people into doing their bidding and believing they’re right. As if the world will fall if narcissists don’t get what they want.

Society at large will often enable abusers; you can call out abuse and be rendered a 'killjoy’ because people prefer to enjoy cruelty together with the narcissist than to oppose them. Narcissists are capable of rousing a whole gang of people to turn against the victim and to aid in their abuse; this is scapegoating.

Gaslighting is a form of abuse where the abuser attacks your sense of reality. They will usually do this to obscure and deny acts of abuse. “I never said that” “That didn’t happen” “That’s not how I remember it” “You imagined it” or “You’re crazy, I would never do that!” are common gaslighting phrases abusers use for events that absolutely happened, and they absolutely remember. It’s even more powerful if they get other people to agree that you’re insane for remembering a past event of abuse. They can sometimes try to convince you that something didn’t occur while it’s still happening. This renders your intention of calling out abuse impossible; you’re now debating whether the event even happened and your sanity is questioned.

The point of this is to drive you into insanity; prolonged gaslighting will make you doubt your own memories and senses, and you will no longer be secure in your own point of view or version of reality. You will not be able to fight abuse, because you will get stuck on wondering if it’s even real, or if you’re making it up. Narcissist wants not only to abuse you, but to control your perception of it, reaction of it, and to disable you from telling anyone and being taken seriously. Smear campaign and gaslighting ensures that everyone thinks you’re lying to make problems, even you.

You can attempt to block gaslighting with phrases like 'That was not my experience’ 'I know the truth and I am not debating it with you’ ’ Don’t tell me what happened, I was there’ or ridiculing them for thinking it would work, but sometimes abuse will escalate if you refuse to play along, so be very careful with them.

Baiting, Projection and Scapegoating

Baiting is the way narcissist finds out which triggers will work on you. Types of baits are: Scaremongering, Accusations, False Claims, Guilt-tripping, Victim-playing, False Hope, or Intrigue. They will use these to elicit either fear&anxiety, or guilt&responsibility. You are likely to get pulled in and respond emotionally to these, and thus the narcissist will discover which one of these is most triggering and they can use it to either control you, or to affirm that they can still get you riled up, scared, guilty – they feed on being able to provoke these, it makes them feel powerful. They can later use the same trigger to push you into guilt and fear if you try to resist their control. If they continue doing this to you for a long time, you are likely to develop self-doubt and anxiety about your own persona. Way to counter this is to grey rock them.

Projection is a primitive defense-mechanism, where a person feels uncomfortable with their behaviour or thinking, so they accuse someone else of it to deflect the bad feelings from themselves. This can feel the same as baiting, but narcissists do it without realizing they’re giving you the information about what they’re actually feeling and doing. For instance, a narcissist will accuse you of being self-absorbed after they start feeling uncomfortable with how self-absorbed they are, they will start to call you selfish when it comes to their mind how selfish they are. They will accuse you of the exact shit they’ve been doing whether it’s lying, manipulating, faking for attention, cheating, exploiting, lacking compassion, stealing. These claims will feel like they’re coming out of nowhere at first, but eventually you will wonder if you’re really like that, and accept their projection on yourself, believing to really be as bad, or worse than they are. Even though they’ve done 100% of these things, while you have done none of it. This can also be countered by being aware what is going on and grey-rocking them. Deflecting the blame back to them will not work because they’ll either deflect it back, or throw a tantrum and insult you.

Scapegoating is the most vicious abuse narcissist can inflict on their victims and is designed to completely break a person’s spirit while creating power out of terror. Scapegoating doesn’t only serve to terrify and control the victim; it shows everyone what the narcissist is capable of, causing them to go very far to avoid becoming the next scapegoat. This creates enablers, flying monkeys and other benefits for narcissist to enjoy, while the scapegoat is isolated, not believed, and often shunned by the community to show loyalty to the narcissist.

Scapegoat will be blamed for every narcissists flaw, accused of provocation and creating trouble, shamed for their likes and interests, humiliated for their appearance or needs, their work will be rendered worthless and any pain and injury will be treated as if the scapegoat deserved it, or wanted it. Nothing is out of bounds to criticize or belittle in the scapegoat; flying monkeys will do it too, to either affirm themselves with the narcissist, or because they too crave power by stepping on someone defenseless. If a narcissistic parent decides to scapegoat a child, the other parent might stop caring for the child, and agree that the child deserves only to be neglected and shunned. The illusion narcissists create, of entire society agreeing that a person is irredeemable, deserving only of pain and ridicule, has turned people to suicide.

Scapegoat absorbs all of the narcissist’s malice, cruelty, sadism, baiting, projection, guilt and tantrums, so other people in the environment can get some relief and can use the scapegoat as their shield. You can be chosen to be a scapegoat for challenging the narcissist and standing up to them, for refusing to scapegoat someone else, for seeing thru them and showing any potential for undermining their authority, if narcissist is jealous of you, if narcissist feels threatened by your intellect, compassion and emotional depth they lack. And often, you’ll just be chosen because they’re in position of power and you’re unprotected. If you’re their child, a lonely classmate, employee with no high reputation or lots of friends, a minority, different in the way of sexuality or behaviour, anything that is easily used to sway a group of people against you. Narcissists will make sure to spread a smear campaign filled with lies against you, so that nobody would align with you, or believe you if you try to counter their word.

This type of treatment is beyond anything a human being could deserve, and devastating for the victim’s self esteem and sense of reality. After surviving a scapegoating situation, people might not want to find themselves in any social setting anymore. They might start believing themselves to be unlovable and defective. There is usually no way to counter it or fight your way out, unless there’s a higher authority who could side with you, or there’s a way to physically remove yourself from this environment.

Grey Rock, Hoovering and No Contact

Grey rock is a way to counter baiting and projection; narcissists learn and thrive on our emotional responses, it gives them a thrill to be able to send us into rage, terror, disbelief, shock or panic. Grey rocking means you give zero emotional response, and thus prove yourself very boring and a bad source of narcissistic supply. So, regardless of what egregious threat, accusation, claim or insult they make, you just reply with 'mhmm’ and look completely disinterested. You reply with one-word sentences, say 'sure’ or 'yup’ if they accuse you of something or try to fearmonger, answer questions with 'maybe’ or 'I don’t know’, agree with whatever bs they’re pulling out of their ass without caring, refuse to get pulled in or baited, give them no significance in the conversation until they leave. It is very hard to do, because they will up their game and even fly into rage to get a response, if they feel entitled to it. In some cases they might resort to violence. Often, they’ll keep changing the tactics until something works, and if nothing does, they’ll feel dejected and go find another source of supply. If they feel like they can’t get to you, this undermines their imagined power over you.

No contact is the only way to truly win against a narcissist; if they can’t reach you, they can’t manipulate or hurt you. This means no responding to messages, no letting them know where you live, blocking them on every service, and in most situations, even the enablers have to be no contact, because the narcissist is likely to send them into triangulation and use them to get to you. If you’re unable to go no-contact with a narcissist, a lot of people opt for 'low contact’, which means you only hear from them once a year, or once every 6 months, insufficient for them to gain control over you, and you grey-rock them all the way, and never share any personal info that might be used against you. Hoovering is something a narcissist will do to you after you’ve left them. They might leave you alone for a long time, then suddenly send a message saying they miss you, or they’re thinking about you and wishing you could do xyz together. They might also influence another person to tell you 'x misses you, they wish to see you again, they’re doing bad without you’. This is done to remind you of the 'good times’ and an attempt to draw you back in, as you’re supposed to have forgotten all the abuse already and be ready to take them back. It might come as outrageous expectation or denial of everything bad that happened – that’s because it is. All you have to do is grey-rock this, not respond, and enjoy in knowledge that even if you can’t ensure revenge, you can take yourself away from them, and they will never have you back.

Sources: Baiting, Scapegoating, LoveBombing, Gaslighting(video), Projection(video), Triangulation, Mirroring(video),  FlyingMonkeys (video), Hoovering, Grey Rock

[bluemoondust]

Ok do you remember fallers(I think they’re called that?)? People who fell through a wormhole into a new dimension in pkmn sun/moon who attract ultra beasts? A yandere with a faller darling would have a field day, they feel much more justified in being possessive/protective of them when they’re completely unfamiliar with the world and can potentially attract monsters.

YES ABSOLUTELY

It's one of the things I enjoyed in the Sun/Moon games! I was taken off guard when it happened but I found myself loving this side story so much!

Definitely! Having a Faller as a Darling really gives the yandere an excuse for their behavior. Either if they're controlling, possessive or straight up paranoid, this is their go-to justification for their actions.

It makes it so much easier to keep you indoors without even kidnapping you! The Ultra Beasts would take the chance to jump you if you go outside, so it'd be better to keep inside, as they state.

But oh, yanderes like Looker and Anabel, who are very aware of Fallers, would be the ones the most hesitant to let their darling out of their sight. Looker leans more on having you stay at the motel at all times, never letting you out unless he's with you. Meanwhile with Anabel, she doesn't leave your side at all. She's a little more lenient with you going outside, but insists on acting as your bodyguard due to her skills as a trainer.

Nanu is the same way, but he hides it so well... It's subtle, but he also is more likely to force you to stay at the station. Even so, the three give off the impression that you aren't safe unless you're by their side. You can't possibly fend off those beasts yourself, so why don't you just ease your mind and stay where it's safe? They'll protect you...

Even if it isn't these three who are informed of Fallers, other yanderes who put two and two together would act similar anyways. It just depends. Some would treat you like a fragile being, who can't possibly survive in this world. It's not your own, so how could you know? It's a little patronizing but hey, how can you argue against that? Some might even guilt trip you with the fact that you could potentially put others in danger for being a Faller. It's better to keep you contained and away from towns and cities.

[xmarchwarden-of-lothlorienx]

A World Away

Thranduil x fem!human!reader

Requested: Anonymous

Summary: “I want a modern reader thrown into mirkwood forest. Found and thrown into a cell by thranduil. During an escape attempt reader sees an animal and decides to rescue an animal and get caught by thranduil. He takes an interest and reader is treated as a guest. Thranduil starts falling for her and sends her to live with humans. “What did i do? Why are you sending me away?” And then during the battle of five armies she meets with thranduil again and fluff”

Warnings: a little swearing (like twice)

Authors Note: Splitting this into two parts so everyone can suffer (joking lol)

Edit: Not me trying to schedule this and realizing it didn’t post 🤦🏻‍♂️

__________________________________________

With every step, you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your adrenaline rush prevented you from noticing the sharp briars that tore at your skin and clothes. You could worry about that later. Your only concern now was making it out of this forest.

You had planned your escape from the Elvenkings dungeon for weeks. Today, the opportunity to put your plan into action had finally arisen. As you dodged fallen logs and low hanging branches, you thought of how you came to be here in the first place.

Your head was throbbing as you came to. You attempted opening your eyes, but the bright sunlight forced you to close them again. You could hear strange voices speaking in a foreign tongue. You attempted to move your hands, but they were bound. Forcing your eyes open a second time, you took in your unfamiliar surroundings.

You were in a forest, surrounded by men and women dressed in strange clothes. All of them had long hair that was intricately braided, revealing their...pointy ears? Okay, what on earth was happening here.

“Excuse me, but who are you people? Why am I here?” You voiced. One with blonde hair, you assumed he was their leader, snapped his head towards you.

“You were trespassing on our lands. You are now in the custody of King Thranduil. He shall decide your fate” You gulped. Oh lord, what had you done now?

You were ripped away from your thoughts when you tripped over something in your way.

“Shit!” You hissed at the pain now shooting up your leg. You turned and looked at what had caused you to fall. A small fawn lay trembling at your feet. It didn’t appear injured, but your conscience wouldn’t let you leave until you checked. You extended a hand to the fawn, but it flinched away. “C’mon, I won’t hurt you. I promise,” you reassured. As you were checking the animal over, the sound of a sword being drawn reached your ears. You turned to see the tall figure now standing behind you. You recognized him as one of the guards that had taken you prisoner when you arrived at this miserable place.

“I see we didn’t get very far,” the elf said sarcastically. You dropped your head in defeat.

“Damn my good conscience,” you thought.

___

The first time you were before the Elvenking, he had been perched atop his throne. This time, you met him in his private study. He was seated in a large chair, sipping a glass of rich red wine. He appeared unbothered. You weren’t sure if anything could sway him.

“Leave us,” he commanded the guards placed at the doors. He took another long drink of his wine, then placed it on the table beside him. Neither of you spoke, and the silence was deafening. Thranduil took a deep breath and gestured to the seat adjacent from him, ”Sit.”

You obeyed, the large plush seat nearly swallowing you. You fiddled with your hands-noting that they had been left unbound this time.

“Do you have any idea what the punishment is for those that try to escape my prison?” He questioned. You shook your head in response, not trusting your voice to remain steady. “A more barbaric king would likely have you put to death.” Thranduil noticed you becoming more anxious. “But do not worry, I don’t plan on doing such a thing.”

“O-Oh?” You stuttered.

“You must be quite clever to have out maneuvered my guards,” Thranduil continued as he poured another glass of wine. “It was surprising to learn that your escape failed because you stopped to help a fawn.”

“It wasn’t my greatest decision,” you admitted.

“Perhaps, but I think it’s ultimately been in your favor,” Thranduil hummed.

“What do you mean?” You questioned.

“What I mean is that I’ve reconsidered my original sentence. I believe I may have been quick to judge when you were first brought before me,” Thranduil paused. “I hear of all the happenings in this forest. Humans are typically uncaring of those around them. Despite your situation, you stopped to help another in need of aid. Quite a noble trait to possess, yes?”

“Yes, I suppose,” you replied. You had never considered yourself noble before. Helping others had always felt like the right thing to do.

“If it would be no trouble, I should like you to remain in Mirkwood-as my guest.” There it was. The point that this conversation had been leading to.

“I-Really?” You exclaimed. Just when you thought you were starting to understand how this world worked, you were blind sided once again.

“If you have family you would rather return to, I understand. We would be more than willing to supply you for your journey-“

“Oh, no,” you cut him off (which surprised him). “It’s not that. I just wasn’t expecting it is all. I appreciate the offer, and I totally except.” You were glad to finally move on from being a prisoner. The treatment in Thranduils dungeon was alright, but a prison is still a prison after all.

“Well, then,” said Thranduil, pouring a second glass of wine. “Let’s drink to the hope of newfound friendship,” he offered the glass to you. You accepted and raised your glass to him. A possible friendship with the king? Oh, this was going to be a story to tell.

___

Life in Mirkwood was very pleasant; spending your days exploring the endless gardens and library. You would share dinner with Thranduil once a week. Then twice a week. Then soon you would dine together most nights. You noticed how interested he was in your life-both before you came to Middle Earth and now.

What you didn’t notice were the whispers between the elves. Since the death of his queen, the king had been closed off. Now, he was showing such favoritism to a human woman. Sharing dinner with her. Strolling through the gardens together. Gifting her with clothes and her own dwelling. It wasn’t until Legolas brought it up did Thranduil notice how fond he had become of you.

“Ada?” Legolas asked one day.

“Yes?” Thranduil replied as he leafed through paperwork.

“I’ve seen you’ve become quite partial to (Y/N),” said Legolas.

“Hm, I suppose I have,” Thranduil paused from his work.

“Do you think you may have...romantic feelings for her?” Legolas hesitated before asking.

Thranduils eyes widened at what his son had said. “O-Of course not! Honestly, Legolas, I don’t see why you would say such things!” Legolas gave his father a look and turned to leave.

“If you say so,” Legolas teased before closing the door behind him.

Thranduil pondered over what Legolas had said. Yes-he could see it now. He had slowly become wrapped around your little fingers. Falling for you so slowly he didn’t even notice. He wanted to feel joy-could he have found a second companion at last? But he couldn’t help the guilt that clawed at his stomach. Many elves only married once. Though his wife was deceased, her soul still lingered in the Halls of Mandos. What then? Should he do you both a disservice and pursue his newfound love? Thranduil stood and paced the room, thinking of what he should do. Finally, he called to the guards outside the room. He had made his decision.

“How may we serve you, My King.”

“Tell Lady (Y/N) to pack her things. She must be gone by daybreak tomorrow. She is not to step foot in the Woodland Realm again, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Thranduil felt sick. This was for your own good, he kept telling himself. To be with you would only hurt you both. It had to be this way.

___

You wiped away your tears as you packed. You didn’t understand. Mirkwood was your home. Thranduil had become your closest friend, but now he was banishing you? You thought the Elvenking liked you, even entertained the thought that he more than liked you, but not now. Now you felt foolish. Of course it would never work. He was a stupidly handsome immortal king. You were a human girl from a different world.

You threw the last of your belongings into your bag. The guards escorted you out of the castle. Before the cart you were placed upon moved, you took one last look at the kingdom, trying to absorb every detail. The coachman urged the horses forward, and that was it. You would never see Thranduil again. As night fell, so did your tears.

Little did you know, you weren’t the only one who cried that night.

Tags: @themerriweathermage

[embermc]

"People improve when they get external love and support. How can we hold it against them when they don't?"

This is a quote from The Good Place (awesome show, by the way, check it out). It's a show largely about redemption, morality, and the nature of humanity. Very importantly, it's a show about how people aren't inherently evil at heart, and although they can hurt other people and that isn't okay, they can also be negatively affected by their circumstances, and a large part of what makes redemption and changing for the better work is "external love and support" from others.

I've alluded to this quote before in previous posts, but I think it really perfectly applies to c!Wilbur right now, in his current state.

c!Wilbur, as we've seen, has been stuck in a dark, cold Limbo for thirteen years. He has had barely any stimuli, nothing but a deck of cards for entertainment, a lot of lingering mental illnesses, and most importantly for the context of this post, barely anyone to be with. He mentioned c!Schlatt sleeping for a while, and we now have the knowledge that Schlatt was off being a realtor. Mexican Dream is there, but there's a good chance that it wasn't for long, since he was a relatively new death that was only added years in, and he wasn't around in Tommy and Wilbur's conversation. And then there's c!Tommy. c!Tommy was with Wilbur in Limbo for a brief period of time, a few months, before leaving again which, is good for c!Tommy and I'm glad he didn't have to spend more time there, but it meant c!Wilbur had to spend even more years in crippling loneliness and near total isolation.

When he died, c!Wilbur was already not in a good mental state. He was incredibly depressed, traumatized, paranoid, suicidal, and in general, very mentally ill. This lead to him lashing out and hurting others, and in general, being a very morally grey character that made a lot of mistakes. As confirmed by c!Tommy, this shaky mental state and these behaviors have not gotten better during c!Wilbur's time in Limbo. And, of course they didn't. Isolation and crippling loneliness have never been the solution to healing someone's mental state, and this is something that has been proven time and time again by the SMP. In fact, a recurring theme on the SMP is that companionship and the company of others, and having others to be around and be a positive influence on you, is the best way to heal and fix yourself. In turn, the themes of the SMP have also shown that isolation, whether it be self-imposed or forceful, are absolutely devastating for one's mental state and condition, often leading to them making a lot of errors that they wouldn't have otherwise made.

c!Wilbur is no different. (Explanation under cut).

Upon returning to life, c!Wilbur is in a state of clear desperation. He undoubtedly doesn't want a repeat of his bad mental state and his situation in Limbo, where he was isolated, and he's searching for a purpose, for things to do, a role to play (since he has always assigned his self-worth to a role). Above all, he clearly doesn't want to lose c!Tommy. This has been made apparent and true numerous times, as we see him be desperate for c!Tommy to stay with him and to protect c!Tommy, even when Tommy himself wasn't watching or listening in. c!Wilbur doesn't want to be alone. He also is desperately searching for a role, a position of power, a nation, a rivalry, a headquarters, anything he can hold onto in order to have a sense of self-worth or a purpose.

And yeah, in the process, c!Wilbur may not be the most morally pure. He was definitely trying to guilt-trip and use underhanded methods of persuasion with Tommy to get him to stay with him and choose him over c!Quackity. He was lashing out, yelling at others in heated, stressful moments. He was occasionally lying. A lot of his coping mechanisms for his trauma were unhealthy, both for himself and for others. But here's the thing...how could he possibly have any other coping mechanisms? After being in a state of isolation and loneliness for literal years, it makes complete and total sense for him to not be a perfect human being. It makes sense for him to not have the best coping mechanisms, to, in the process, hurt those around him (despite wanting to be a better person, and I honestly believe this). While c!Wilbur's mental issues are not the responsibility of anyone else, c!Wilbur has not even had the benefit to have somebody that's a positive influence around him to keep him company, to make him slowly realize that he doesn't need to keep using the same unhealthy coping mechanisms. He has been without any real love or support for so long.

c!Wilbur is terrified of losing c!Tommy, because he doesn't want to be alone again, and doesn't know what to do if he was alone. He doesn't know who he is, alone, without a role to fit himself into or somebody to protect who looks up to him. He doesn't want a repeat of Limbo, where he wallowed in self-hatred and mental agony by himself for years. So he's desperate to keep c!Tommy with him, so desperate that he's willing to use morally dubious tactics like guilt-tripping in order to ensure he doesn't end up by himself. It's not morally correct for him to do, and it's negative for c!Tommy's mental health, but it's not a super malicious action coming from some irredeemable evil person. c!Wilbur's genuinely scared, and having a traumatic response to fearing a potential situation where he could end up alone again, a response that ends up hurting others despite him most likely not meaning to.

And because he's been alone for so long, without any real support, any real companionship, any real love, he's latching onto coping mechanisms and behaviors that won't necessarily be good or healthy for anyone. He's doing bad things as a result of a bad mindset, and he hasn't had the opportunity to heal from this bad mindset because he can't do it alone. It's very hard to heal alone, and to fix an unhealthy mindset alone, which is again, a theme that's been shown to us time and time again. And again, c!Wilbur's mindset is nobody's responsibility, least of all c!Tommy, who is a kid with his own trauma and issues, but c!Wilbur has been alone so long that he hasn't even been able to benefit solely from at least having somebody with him to positively influence him.

This doesn't excuse harm or stress he caused to c!Tommy, and c!Tommy would be perfectly in the right to distance himself from c!Wilbur if he so chooses, but it does explain a lot of c!Wilbur's actions and show that he's not some irredeemable monster. He makes mistakes, yes, but he's been trapped in an unhealthy mindset, with unhealthy behaviors and coping mechanisms, for so long, without ever getting much external love or support to help him out of that dark place. It makes sense that he isn't going to change overnight, and it would be a long process where he would most likely make more mistakes out of fear, or trauma, or any other factor. But one can't act like he's evil, or irredeemable, because he's not. c!Wilbur is a scared, traumatized guy who desperately doesn't want to lose everything he believes he has left, and from that desperation, comes actions and behaviors that end up hurting those around him, as well as himself.

It's important to hold c!Wilbur accountable for his actions, yes, but, there's a good chance he can change when he gets external love and support, so we can't act like he's acting out of pure malice or evil when he hasn't, for so long.