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reheatedpizza-rey · 7 months

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dark!Wanda Maximoff x gn!reader - All the Same

Summary-> Wanda takes you in after she finds you all alone in the street. She seems nice at first but there's a hidden darkness to it which you realise all too late. (non-avenger au)

A.N-> This is my english story writing activity from when I was 14 so it's gonna be pretty shit. I just had to post something cuz my blog is high-key dead cuz of exams.

Word count-> ~2k

Content warnings-> ⚠️SUICIDE⚠️, ⚠️VAGUE EATING DISORDER⚠️, manipulation, what was I thinking when I wrote this, shitty writing

I ran and I ran through the forest, unsure of where I was going. The only thing on my mind was getting away from that hell. The hell where I was always walking on eggshells, where I was afraid of even breathing wrong, where I felt so lonely despite someone always being there watching my every. single. move. But now it would all be over. I could finally run away. I could finally be free. I could see the house where I had been tormented for so many years disappear into the darkness of the night and get hidden by the many trees and bushes of the forest. I could see a faint light in the distance. I rushed towards it, despite my legs feeling like they were being pierced through by a million knives all at once.

I was on a road now. The bright street lights stung my eyes since they were only accustomed to the deep, damp darkness of the forest. Now that I was finally out of that hellscape and had a chance to breathe, it inevitably dawned on me that I had no idea what to do. I had been trapped inside that house all my life, so I didn’t know anyone in the outside world. Suddenly, I felt my vision going blurry; my head was spinning, water was gushing out of my eyes, my knees could barely support my body, and I collapsed. It all hurt so, so much. Out of nowhere, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

It was a beautiful girl.

She asked, "Are you ok?" concern laced into her words. It was like she actually cared. It was something I’d never experienced before.

I couldn’t respond. I was too overwhelmed with everything going on. She didn’t pry any further. She carefully helped me to my feet as she held my hand. I almost fell over again, but she caught me. We walked in silence for a few seconds before we reached a door. She unlocked it and led me inside. She had me sit on the sofa as she sat down next to me.

She questioned, "Are you calmer now?"

She waited patiently for my answer, which I delivered a few seconds later in the form of a small, barely audible "…yes."

"That’s great! Let’s get you cleaned up!" she exclaimed.

She left to go get something from the other room. I was confused for a second before I looked down and saw a huge cut on my left leg. "That must be why my legs hurt so much…" I quietly mumbled to myself.

She came back holding some antiseptic, cotton balls, and bandages. As she was cleaning up the wound, I finally got a chance to observe her features.

She had beautiful long red hair, which cascaded beautifully down her back, and shimmering green eyes, which looked beautiful in the moonlight. Truthfully, she was really beautiful.

She first cleaned up the blood on my leg and the wound with the antiseptic and the cotton balls, which stung a lot. Tears were forming at the corners of my eyes as I winced at the pain.

She calmly shushed me and said, "Just bear with it for a second; it’ll be over soon."

After a few seconds, she wrapped my leg with bandages. I tried to stand up but fell back onto the sofa.

She commented, "Your leg is hurt pretty badly." She continued, "I’ll help you get around until it heals."

She then said, ‘’The night is still young; why don’t we get to know each other? If you’re up for it, of course."

I replied, "Sure, what do you want to know?"

She responded, "Well, I still don’t know your name yet, so how about we start with that?"

I blushed slightly and replied, O-oh, sorry about that! My name is Y/N."

She responded, "It’s fine." She giggled, "My name is Wanda!"

‘Even her name is pretty…’ I thought to myself.

We talked for a few more hours, and I got to know that she was studying to become a nurse and was thus away from her parents. I didn’t tell her much about me other than the fact that my parents were fairly wealthy and we used to live in a cabin out in the woods. We didn’t seem to realise that time was flying by as we were talking, and soon it was 12:30. We were both tired, so we decided to go to bed. She had an extra bed that I could sleep in. I tried to get up, but it hurt too much, so she decided to carry me to the room.

The next morning, Ruby woke up first and woke me up as well. She was shocked to see me. I didn’t understand why she looked so shocked.

She then got closer to me and held my arm, and said in a worried tone, "You’re so thin! You look sickly; have you been eating well? I couldn’t see you that well in the darkness last night."

I was confused about what she meant by that since my mother would always say that I ate too much and should eat less. She must have noticed the confusion on my face since she didn’t ask any more questions and just decided to hug me and hold me close instead.

After a few seconds, she let go and went to the kitchen, gesturing for me to follow her. I rushed after her into the kitchen, where she was preparing breakfast.

She told me to go sit at the table. I waited for a few minutes before she came out, carrying two plates with two pancakes each. She placed one in front of me and one in front of herself as she sat down. She started eating, and so did I.

I could only manage a few bites before I felt full. I wasn’t used to having this much food.

She must have noticed and asked me, "What’s wrong? Are they not to your liking?"

I hurriedly replied, "N-no they’re good; I’m just not used to eating this much."

She looked confused and said, "This is very little food; how much do you normally eat?"

I replied, "Like half of this usually..."

She looked extremely concerned and said, "Well, you really need to start eating more... Just finish half of it, ok?"

I didn’t know if I could eat that much, but still, I replied, "Ok, I’ll try…"

She looked pleased at that response. A few minutes later, I was done with my food.

She then informed me that she had to leave for university and told me I could watch TV or something while I waited for her to come back. She came back pretty late and prepared dinner for the both of us. She gave me a pretty small portion, which was more than enough to fill me up. After eating, we both went to bed.

I continued to live with Wanda for a few more weeks. I learned how to cook from her on the weekends, and now I prepare dinner for the both of us when she was away at university. I’d even started eating slightly bigger portions. Everything was going well. One day, she came back pretty late again, but it was even later than usual. We were eating dinner as usual when she randomly started commenting on how much I was eating. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but it went on for a few more weeks. She would comment on everything I did, from how much I ate to how I sat. I started eating less and less, and was soon back to eating barely anything.

One day, as I was waiting for her, I heard talking outside the door. I tried to listen to what they were saying but couldn’t really make much out at first, but then I heard Wanda’s voice. She was saying something about taking someone in because she felt ‘so, so bad’ for them. At first, I didn’t know who she was talking about, but soon I realised that it was me.

But the way she talked about me didn’t seem affectionate. Rather, it felt fake. Like I was just a pitiful object to show others just how kind she was.

I went to the sofa because I didn’t want to listen anymore. I didn’t want to believe that I was just an object to her. I didn’t want to believe that the person who was so kind to me and the one who was the only reason I’m not dead just saw me as a trophy to show people.

She soon came inside and greeted me as if it were just any other normal day. Well, it might have been for her. I greeted her back, not wanting to seem off. We had dinner like normal, and she brought up that some people from university would be over tomorrow.

I just said, "Ok." And that was it. We both went to bed, and the next morning went as usual, with us eating breakfast together and her leaving for university.

That night, she came back with a few of her friends. They were all looking at me like I was just some object to be gawked at. I felt so uncomfortable under their gaze. They stayed for some time. They all mostly just ignored me as I sat beside Wanda as they all talked. They were all gone after a few hours. We had dinner as usual, though I didn’t talk as much today. We both went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t shake off the feeling of betrayal.

The next morning, after Wanda had left, I was just sitting on the sofa all alone with my thoughts. Thoughts of all the negative things she had said to me. Comments regarding how much I ate, how I sat, how I dressed, and how I looked. Anything regarding my appearance was always commented on negatively. She reminded me of my mother. The very woman I had risked my life to escape.

Last night was the last straw. She really did just see me as a trophy. Something to boast to people about. I completely lost control of my body as it made its way towards the roof.

All I could think was, why am I even living anymore? I’d risked my life to escape my mother, but even after escaping her, the person I thought was the complete opposite of her was, in fact, just the same. If everyone is just the same, why should I even continue looking for someone different?

Soon, I was at the edge of the roof. All that was between me and my sweet escape from this world, which was worse than hell, was one single step.

Suddenly, I broke out of my trance-like state. I backed away. What was I even about to do? How could I be so stupid as to attempt to do something like that? Sure, Wanda might not care for me like I thought she did, but she’s still the reason I’m still alive.

But then, memories of last night flashed through my mind. Memories of being viewed as a mere object. Memories of people not even acknowledging my existence outside of the pitiful girl Wanda helped.

My vision got blurry. All I could see was the edge of the roof. I didn��t care about anything else. I just wanted to escape. And escape I did.

The wind brushing the skin of my face felt so nice. The sound of the wind rushing by blocked out any other noise. It was rather calm, considering I was falling to my death. After a few moments of rare tranquility, Thud. And then it all went dark.

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antiquatedsimmer · 2 months

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The joy of moving into a new home was still fresh on Lucile & Josephine's moods. Though it was much farther from town than either of them would have liked, they were accustomed to such isolation.

With distance came the gift of privacy, a precious commodity for the secret relationship they shared.

This house was destined to be the perfect sanctuary for raising their child, being so high up on the ridge protected them from prying eyes.

As Josephine's pregnancy teetered on the brink of the infant's arrival, both she and Lucile had been running themselves ragged, consumed by the frantic need to make everything ready for the new life about to enter their world.

The nursery was a bit of an organized mess, lacking fancy wallpaper or neatly decorated shelves filled with toys. Instead, it held a small, hand-woven bassinet that Lucile had lovingly put together, lined with a few comfortably plush blankets.

It wasn't much, but she had one just like it when she was a baby. If her mama thought it was good enough for her, surely it would suit her future nephew just fine.

Now it was only a waiting game, which is precisely why they decided to take a day to enjoy themselves and have a break from chores before the real work of taking care of a newborn began.

Given Josephine's condition and the swiftly dropping temperatures, a long walk was out of the question. However, a short stroll in the crisp, cool air would do them both some good.

It wasn't the most impressive date, but for just the two of them, it was perfect.

"What is it?" Josephine laughed,

"You'll see! Just a little farther, around this tree," Lucile replied.

Josephine gasped at the sight of an old gazebo, hidden in the shadows of a towering tree strewn with fallen leaves.

"Look!, a little secret just yards from our house! It was all covered in overgrown brush, but I managed to clear it for us," Lucile beamed.

" I was thinking of moving a table out here, maybe we could have some tea and it can keep us shaded in the heat. "

" Oh, The baby and I would love that Lucie! ", Lucile laughed " You and the baby can have the perfect spot to relax! "

After a brief pause, Lucile continued, "I know we don't like to think the past, but do you remember the gazebo we had back at home? The one we used to hang out under in Henford?"

"Of course I do… but this is our home now. We shouldn't dwell on what we left behind. It still hurts too much."

"I know… But I'm not sad," Lucile said softly.

She gently clasped Josephine's hands, bringing them to her lips and placing a tender kiss on her fingers.

"I love you, and whoever this baby turns out to be. I want you to know I'm going to be there for both of you, no matter what."

Josephine gently caressed Lucile's shoulder, her hand moving up and down in a soothing motion.

"Lucie, you don't have anything to prove. You're going to be a wonderful mother."

"Everything that's happened leading up to me being with you?… I wouldn't have it any other way."

Lucie struggled to hold back tears. It was hard not to feel regrets; they had lost everything, and the world seemed constantly against their very existence. The path ahead would undoubtedly bring more hardships. But together? Together, everything felt possible.

Quickly stifling a few sniffles, Lucile fumbled with one of her skirt pockets. "One more thing..." she said, her voice trembling.

Josephine gasped, her hand flying to her chest, as Lucile procured a small ring and gently took Josephine's hand, sliding it onto her finger.

"When did you—?" Josephine stammered, her eyes wide with surprise.

"While we were pawning off the silver," Lucile replied softly. "I saw how heartbroken you were parting with most of your nice jewelry. "

"I wanted to get you something special… I know it's not much, but—" Lucile's voice wavered.

Josephine silenced her with a tender embrace, wrapping her arms around Lucile's shoulders.

"Shush now… It's perfect."

#doyle legacy #im sobbing and crying i love them so much #I am fr hype to see what baby they get #I always like keeping it a secret and have been using all my everything in my power not to peek at mccc #Josephine Doyle #Lucile Doyle #the doyle legacy #decade legacy #decades challenge #ts4 #ts4 historical #decade challenge #decades legacy #ts4 decades challenge #1900s #decade: 1900s

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spectralsleuth · 1 year

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My Writing Masterpost!

Fandom list is long and varied.

Little Scraps of Wisdom

Splinter was never mutated, and never Splinter. Instead Hamato Yoshi escapes the Hidden City still human, and with four sons. What's an action star to do? _____________________________________________________________

LSoW was originally based off of THIS fanart! It has veered wildly off of that since I initially started, however. LSoW is about how the Hamato family navigates living a relatively public and above ground life in New York City, with family, friends, and social security numbers. Things will both be better, and worse.

TAGS:

#LSoW

#my writing

#my fic

#flipside

______________________________________________________________

The Fic:

Little Scraps of Wisdom:

“Okay you can get your breath back, I’m glad, but can we please address the turtles in the room. They are turtles right? Not fucked up little frogs?”

“Do. Not. Swear. In. Front. Of. The children.”

Yoshi managed to get out between sobs, sniffing heavily yet again, hard enough to rattle his sinuses. Orange wailed in agreement, and to his horror Red looked as if he was going to be soon to follow, holding his own tail, and eyes wide in distress at Yoshi and Orange’s noise. Purple’s face was still buried in Yoshi’s sweater even with the addition of his brothers to the lap, and Blue simply looked delighted at all the commotion, yanking on Yoshi’s sleeve as if to make sure he didn’t miss it.

“They’re children?”

“Of course they’re children!” An Act of Poetry

“Veterinarian’s aren’t that unusual a request in a New York hospital, Mr. Munroe.” Dr. Heo interrupted, not looking up from the clipboard. “You would be astonished at the amount of exotic animals that end up here in one way or another, in someone's emergency room visit. Not that often with your request though. Pediatric.” She said wryly, and finally looked up. Her smile warmed when she saw Yoshi’s pale, sweaty face, familiar with the sight of a father about to throw up. “Relax Dad, everything’s going to be fine. Now let’s see the babies. ”Yoshi looked over at Sal, who nodded. Both doctor’s had signed the paperwork, and they were foregoing an assisting nurse in the spirit of discretion. Yoshi leant down for the carrier, giving it a couple of shushing noises and a quiet comforting murmur in Japanese as he brought it up to the table. Dr. Carter was leaning over Dr. Heo’s shoulder with the same bemused calm he had entered with, as if curious, but not too particularly fussed by the secrecy. Once the pleated shade of the carrier was tilted back though, both his and Dr. Heo’s faces froze in expressions of shock. A Short Season Lou Jitsu's finger tapped on the counter thoughtfully. “If you scream when you see them, you will be fired. I will ask you to leave.” He finally said after a long silence, that Xander was too terrified to break. He said it calmly, and with such a cheerful pitch to his voice that Xander didn’t understand what he was even saying for a moment. When the words clicked, he frowned, narrowing his eyes to see if he was joking. Lou Jitsu’s face was still faintly smiling, his hair pushed back by one hand as he turned and bustled over to the coffee maker, starting it to burbling. But Xander felt a cold run down his back, as he realized there was a sleepy sort of danger in Lou Jitsu’s eyes, one that promised repercussions, for something Xander didn’t even know about yet. “Wh- what? Why would I-” “BOYS!” Lou Jitsu bellowed, startling Xander enough to hit his knees on the bottom of the counter. His satchel was clutched in nervous clammy hands on his lap, and his glasses almost slipped off of his nose with surprise. “COME MEET XANDER.” Give me that thing that I love (I’ll turn the lights out)

They were approaching the venue, the limo slowing to a crawl as it joined the caravan of expensive cars that were being allowed through the blockade to the show.

Blue had begged to come. His sons loved fashion, and he loved to encourage them; but outside of a very carefully curated couple of interviews with Miss O’Neil, and a couple of other articles, they had not been out in the frenzy of media attention as their father had.

He and Sal had made very sure of that.

And Yoshi had been planning on keeping things that way, until Blue and Purple had discovered Yoshi had been invited to Fashion Week. 25 cents really stacks up Raph nodded hesitantly. His heart was beating really fast, but he breathed slowly like Pops taught him. He caught his Dad’s eye while Dr. Carter and the dentist sat in their seats and rolled themselves forward, swinging the tray on an arm over with all the things on it that Raph couldn’t quite see. His Pops smiled, and made his mouth an ‘o’, breathing in slowly, and then holding it, and then out. Raph breathed with him, and shut his eyes, turning to face back up at the lamp. Dr. Carter put some glasses on his snout and carefully taped them down, then gave Raph another smile. “Looking good! Hey, they’re the same color as Lou Jitsu’s glasses, huh?” “Oh, yeah.” Raph said in a shaky voice. “...I guess.” “Okay, here we go- open up for me Raph?” King in the Corner, Knight Takes Bishop “John Bishop! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person- I am not generally one to prevaricate, but I was starting to think you wouldn’t be able to track me down before my voice broke.” Donnie said with a casual disinterest, not even leaving his eyes on the intruder sitting where Leo usually sat- back to the kitchen window, and the entire room under the view of his blank, featureless sunglasses. “I’d offer you something to drink- but. Well. You wouldn’t take it, and I don’t want you touching my things anyway. But don’t worry. We’ll have plenty of time to talk about that.”

Best Interest

“An investment in knowledge pays the best interest.”-Ben Franklin

Going to school is hard enough as a kid; it’s a whole other ballpark when you and your brothers aren’t even human.

Or; a collection of one shots all set in the LSoW universe, about the boys going to school, in a world where Hamato Yoshi is just trying his best.

Little Scraps of Empathy (Fic CROSSOVER)

“Oh my- thank you god.” April whispered, shuffling into view with a bat in her hands. “They haven’t really done anything, but. I peeked in again, and Yoshi they are definitely not rats or raccoons.” She hissed, wringing the grip of her bat. “Are there uh. Like, other…” She trailed off uncertainly, looking over at Raph and back to Yoshi. “...Kids, you have, that we should know about?” Her voice raised in pitch to a squeak, trying to convey careful nonchalance with the question and failing miserably.

“What.” Raph’s voice was a little louder than he’d intended, and April hissed at him (a very turtley noise, more than a human ‘shhh’ and they really had to make sure she knew she was doing that) to ‘oh my god be quiet.’

“If you freak them out Raphael Hamato so help me-”

“I’m not gonna freak them out- Pops you said it was rats.” Raph said accusingly, tail lashing.

“I said it was probably rats.”

Case of the Hidden City vs Lou Jitsu

They stepped through into the Hidden City.

There was a familiar swooping feeling that Sal had gotten from falling through the portal a few days ago, although not nearly so disorienting since unlike before he was on his own two feet. Remembering his instructions from Mariko, Sal kept moving even though he couldn’t see anything past the spinning void of pink and green and blue, Lou close behind him. Their shoes made noise as they came in contact with some kind of ground, but before Sal could even begin to think of what it could be, he and Lou were blinking under the bright bioluminescent glow of the Hidden City streetlights.

Also unlike before, was the friendlier face there to greet them. “Welcome back, Mr. Munroe. Hamato-san.” Mariko said with a smile.

#rottmnt #fanfiction #LSoW #masterpost #my writing #MCYT #tmnt #my fic

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mermaidchan05 · 3 months

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Vesuvia Weekly: "Why Are We Hiding?"

A little drabble fic featuring Chimalus and Portia! With their familiars as well :D

About 820 words of pure fluff. Enjoy!

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“Chimalus! Psst! Chimalus, get down here!”

Chimalus paused. They had just been strolling through the palace gardens, looking for Portia. They had expected to either find her hard at work, or on her way back to her little cottage. They had not expected to hear her fierce whisper from somewhere low to the ground.

Chimalus looked around. “Portia? What’s going on?”

“In here!” Portia hissed.

Portia’s hand stuck out from an impossibly tiny gap between two shrubs. Chimalus crouched down, staring at that hand in sheer surprise.

“Portia?” they called. “Is everything-- woah!”

Portia grabbed their wrist and tugged them right through the greenery. The next thing Chimalus knew, they were plopped on the ground next to Portia. Now the two of them were well hidden in a little spot that almost looked like a tiny forest clearing, though instead of being sheltered by a canopy, they were squished in by the branches of several different types of bushes. Some of which must have been bearing fruit, since Chimalus’ clothes were now stained with smashed-up berries.

“Portia...”

“Oh, good, you’re safe!” said Portia, interrupting Chimalus (though they didn’t know if it was on purpose or not). “We have to be really quiet, okay?”

Chimalus blinked. “Why?”

Portia playfully shushed them. “Because we’re hiding.”

Skye, who had very nearly been knocked from her perch on Chimalus’ shoulder, chirped in confusion. Chimalus thought that pretty much summed everything up.

“Right...” Chimalus lowered their voice despite their confusion. “And... why are we hiding, exactly?”

“We’re hiding from the monster, obviously,” said Portia.

She was far too calm and smiling far too widely for someone who was apparently being hunted down by some strange garden beast. As if Chimalus needed more proof that this was just one of Portia’s classic shenanigans.

“The monster,” they repeated dryly. “What kind of monster are we talking about here?”

“Only the most dangerous kind,” said Portia in mock seriousness.

Chimalus had genuinely started to think that she was either playing a prank on some poor palace gardener-- or that she was planning an ambush on the annoying old bird Camio-- when they heard something rustling just outside their little hideaway.

Portia stifled a giggle. “See? I told you! We have to stay hidden! And stay super quiet!”

“You’re the one talking,” Chimalus teased.

Portia shushed them, even putting a finger to their lips. But, of course, any attempt to make them silent was completely ruined by the fact that Portia was now giggling freely.

Chimalus smiled. The opportunity was simply too good to resist. Instead of trying to playfully push Portia away, they kissed her finger. Portia yelped in delighted surprise and pulled back, only to start batting at Chimalus’ shoulder like a cat. Skye wound up flying off her perch. She flew over to the top of the nearest bush, looking decidedly disgruntled.

Chimalus didn’t get a chance to do or say anything more. Something broke into their hiding spot. And a pale brown blur crashed right into Portia, sending her plopping flat on her back.

“BOO!” said Pepi.

The little cat then proceeded to mercilessly ‘attack’ Portia... by gently playing with one of her curls.

“Oh no!” Portia cried between bursts of laughter. “The monster’s got me! Chimalus, help me!”

Chimalus shook their head, bemused. But they were smiling. And they very easily scooped Pepi off of Portia’s chest. Pepi happily settled into Chimalus’ lap.

“I got her!” Pepi peeped. “I was very sneaky and I crept up on her and then I pounced!”

“You certainly did,” Chimalus chuckled.

They started gently petting Pepi. Pepi settled into Chimalus’ lap, curling up into an adorable little ball. And she started to pur.

Portia sat up, still laughing. She had leaves all over her hair, and she didn’t seem to mind in the least.

“My hero!” she teased. “That was a truly valiant rescue, Chimalus.”

“Was it?” Chimalus laughed.

“Of course!” said Portia. “You took a great risk to save me. And only the most powerful magician in the world could possibly learn the secret technique needed to tame such a dreaded beast.”

Said “dreaded beast” immediately exposed her little tummy to Chimalus for some prime belly rubs. Chimalus was happy to provide.

“See?” said Portia, smirking. “An example of truly powerful magic.”

That just made Chimalus laugh all over again. “Sure. Why not? It clearly took years of study to master the magic necessary to befriend wild animals like this one.”

Pepi purred up a storm as Chimalus kept up the belly rubs. Skye, not to be left out of the sudden snuggle fest, decided to perch on Portia’s shoulder. Portia was only too happy to gently run a finger down her feathers, showing affection in a bird-safe way.

“It’s a really amazing talent,” said Portia in mock seriousness. “Think you can teach that magic to me someday?” Chimalus smiled fondly. “I think you’ve got that spell figured out already.”

#vesuvia weekly #why are we hiding #fic #portia devorak #portia devorak x oc #portia devorak x mc #my stuff #my writing #drabbles #so much fluff so little time to write lol

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ask-sibverse · 7 months

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Sundown (Shard's old verse)

"You sure we shouldn't add churros to the basket? He loves the darn things," a deep voice said.

"I'm sure Core. The chocoflan will pack just fine for dessert for the trip," the other voice said.

"I don't know. Did you buy the good containers for storing the taco stuff, Nightmare?" Core asked.

"Core, you know I did. Calm your slippery tentacles. You are gonna wake Dreamy," Nightmare replied. He was busy packing up the last of the basket, making sure the juice drink he made was safe in the thermos to keep is chilled. Today was a big day for Dream after all and he wanted to make it special. His cyan eye turned purple for a moment as his corruption decided to talk again.

"You think he will like it? We really haven't let him explore the other aus yet because he is so young still," Core said with their mouth.

"You worry too much Core. I think he will love the sight. I've been keeping this place hidden for nine months now since we found it," Nightmare said. "We didn't get a chance to celebrate last year because Dreamy broke his arm during it and was in too much pain. He forgot all about it. Plus the major panic attack and nightmares about being stone again..."

"It will be fine. Dream is a tough kid. He is your twin after all," Core soothed their partner.

"Yeah. Lets go then," he replied as he walked to their shared room. Dream refused to sleep without him and he couldn't blame the now ten year old. Even if they weren't the same size anymore, he liked the closeness of his twin. "Hey Dreamy. Time to wake up brother," Nightmare said as he gently shook his brother awake.

Dream woke up with bright eyes and looked at his bigger twin and tackled hugged him. "Nighty! I had a dream where we were climbing mom and we were up so high that we saw the stars even in the day time!"

"Oh that sounds like a wonderful dream," Nighty cooed over his brother. "Mom would shake whenever we climbed her."

"Can we visit her?" Dream asked. Nighty looked away.

"Maybe another day," Core interrupted. "Don't you want to see what the surprise is first that we've been telling you about all day?"

"Oh yeah! You guys promised a surprise!" Dream cheered as.he got out of bed and ran to the closet to find clothes to wear. Core laughed at that while Nightmare thanked his partner for distracting the kid.

"Make sure to pick warm clothes. Its a bit chilly where we are going," Nightmare said.

"Sure sure!" Dream called out a he threw clothes around the room to find the perfect outfit for himself. He eventually picked out purple sweatpants and a golden sweater that had a bumblebee on it with the words *I'm a Cutibee!*

Nightmare chuckled as he helped the kid dressed. "Okay let's head out then," he said once Dream was ready. He opened a portal and the three of them went through to one of the many space aus. This one was on a planet that had purple grass with closed flower buds scattering about as the sun was still in the sky. It was just a field with a single lavender tree with pink leaves swaying in the wind.

"Oooohhh this is so pretty Nighty!" Dream shouted as he ran around the place. "Why are the flowers not opened?"

"Have to wait a bit for that kiddo," Core said. "They bloom when the setting sun hits them."

"That sounds awesome! Then I can make flower crowns!" Dream yelled around as he kept exploring the area.

"Don't go too far. I brought food," Nightmare called out. He smiled as the child ran as he set up their little picnic area. Once ready under the tree, he called Dream back and they started making and eating the tacos.

"What's so special about today?" Dream asked.

"Well, today is your 10th birthday," Nightmare said "Happy birthday Dreamy."

Dream's eyes widen at that and he laughed in joy. "If its my birthday its yours too Nighty! We are the same age!"

"He's got you there Nighty. 510 years old the pair of you. How you feel old man?" Core snickered.

"That makes you 502 today then Core."

"Oh shush. Corruption doesn't age. Just like we have no feelings. Just because we met 502 years ago doesn't mean anything," Core said.

"Corey! It does mean something. That is the day you came into our lives and became family with us! That should be celebrated too. I know it was a hard day for all of us, but we need to make happy memories today now!" Dream said.

"When did my brother get so wise?" Nightmare chuckled as a tentacle rubbed on his head.

"When you started reading to me," Dream giggled back.

The three of them spent eating and drinking and then got into a tickle match which Dream won despite it being two to one. Core decided to switch sides at the last moment. The sun was setting as they ate and soon it was reaching the point it was going to disappear. Nightmare settled everyone down and pulled Dream into his lap, tentacles wrapping around him to keep him warm.

"Its almost time," he said.

"Time for what?" Dream asked.

"Watch."

As the sun hit the edge of the world and a bright flash of light came from it, the flower buds started to glow blue and bloomed one after another. Transparent blue petals and blue crystalized centers erupted all around them, filling the purple field with a blue mist as they shimmered in the darkening sky.

"Its so pretty! I wanna draw this!" Dream said as he moved from his brother to check out the flowers. He started picking some and came back and was working on a crown.

"Yeah. Not many people know about the place either," Nightmare said.

Soon Dream was done and put the crown on Nightmare's head. "Now you and Core have a present from me! Its so pretty how the flowers glow against the goop."

Core and Nightmare laughed at that. "So it does. Thank you Dreamy," he said as he pulled his brother close and they both hugged him tight.

"Best birthday ever!" Dream announced.

"Best birthday ever," Nightmare agreed. Looking where the sun went down minutes before and smiling in earnest. They went home once Dream fell asleep.

#nightmarch2024 #dreamtale dream #nightmare sans #dream sans #dreamtale nightmare #dreamtale

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allycat75 · 9 months

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Let's talk a bit about anxiety, Boston Dumb Fuck.

(a bit of a long one, but I feel some things have been brought up in recent days that I thought should be addressed. Still think I am screaming into a void, but if this helps anyone struggling, it is worth it)

But more specifically, responsibility for ones own anxiety care. And before I start, I want to emphasize I have no doubt of your struggle. It is like being haunted and there are few places to hide. I can understand why your instinct was to shush it all away, but I think you can see now, that did little for your coping skills.

Anxiety doesn't go away by ignoring it, or worse, pawning it off on others. It requires planning, rehearsals and simple acknowledgement to be able to function in your day, doing as little harm to yourself and others. Some days will be better or worse, of course, mainly because anxiety does serve a physiological purpose- it helps us to recognize threats. Our job is to identify if those threats are real or not and to what degree can we mitigate either the threat itself or our response to it. The more we practice, the less we are held hostage by the "fight", "flight", "freeze" and "fawn" responses.

I would argue, BDF, what you have done with this PR stunt is set off a dirty bomb of anxiety, born out of your own fears that got you to agree to this ridiculous plan in the first place, and spread radioactively throughout your fandom. You poisoned the ones standing closest to it, the ones who supported you the most, and began by confounding what was real and what was fake. This, in turn, bloomed into self-doubt and warring factions, leading many of us to question what is true and false and honestly, which was worse. And do we care either way?

You manipulated situations, told half-truths and outright lies, not to telegraph to or protect your fans, but to selfishly create plausible deniability and legal CYA for yourself when this is over. It's like the type of obfuscation used by Aaron Rogers when he smugly blamed everyone for thinking he got the NFL required COVID vaccine, when all he said was he had "immunity", basically saying "I am sorry you were too stupid to interpret the exact words that came out of my mouth and not the spirit behind them."

We are considered collateral damage in a junior high drama produced by grown adults, that we were drafted into participating against our knowledge and permission. We are all a bit on edge, at least the ones who decided to stay to see how this all plays out, and it is kinda, sorta cruel to inflict that hurt on those who had your back at one point, when you know how painful this process can be.

Only looking out for yourself, but what is left to look out for at this point? You look sickly and broken. No real career prospects currently and seemingly no drive to find them. You have nothing to offer any decent woman. No discernible coping or decision making skills. No discernible skills at all, really. There are enough people already making great pottery and I think Jinx can sell dog food just fine without you.

And this is not even getting into how "marrying" that little prize of a wifey now normalizes racism, sexism, antisemitism, agism, xenophobia, fatshaming and pay-to-play vs actual talent and dedication to craft.

So if all of this gives you anxiety, it most definitely should, and know this is of your own making. But the best thing is, it can be of your own fixing as well. You can become the person with discernible skills of all types. You can get roles that match the talent you have hidden within you. You can be worthy of that soulmate Empress partner. You just need to get rid of the wrong people, get a hold of the right people and do the goddamn work, you privleged son of a bitch!

Just some things to contemplate as you come out of your dissociative state, realize you have an impact on the world around you and consider the amends you may need to make to repair the damage left behind.

Until you can get yourself to a trained professional (but please find one soon and start the hard work), hopefully some of these resources can be helpful:

For your family and friends:

#liars suck!#you are the company you keep #i don't like hypocrites #i hate manipulation #coward #boston antisemite #boston racist #boston fatshamer #get some help #do better #stop the shushing- learn the lesson #check your privlege #is this who you want to be?

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hannahssimblr · 9 months

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Chapter Thirteen

Jude slides into the seat across from me at the table of this brightly lit Turkish kebab place on Liffey Street. He’s only bought a bottle of Pepsi, while I’ve piled the table high with taco chips, lamb kebab, chicken goujons and a giant strawberry milkshake. I eye him as he twists open the cap of his drink.

“Wow, greedy.” I say.

He laughs. “Yeah you’re going to have to have me airlifted out of here. Can I’ve a chip?” He reaches out but I smack his hand away. “You’re doing that thing that boys always complain about, when girls don’t order enough food so they steal theirs.”

“Come on.” He says. “Just one, for God’s sake.” I relent and let him, but only one. I eye him suspiciously as he plucks it out of the box.

“Did you want to count it?” He teases. “To make sure I’ve not hidden another one in my hand?”

“Okay just shush for a minute.” I urge him. “I just really want to eat.” He signs and leans back in the seat, taking slow, leisurely sips of his pepsi while I tear at my food like some kind of feral beast. Nothing has ever tasted as delicious as this particular kebab, in this particular restaurant, even though the floors are sticky and there’s a drunk man snoring in the booth across from us thus creating an interesting ambience.

“Skipped dinner?” He queries after a few minutes of silence where he allows me to satiate myself.

“Mmm.” I say. “Didn’t have time to eat.” I grab a napkin and swipe it across my mouth, afraid that it’s as coated in sauce as my hands are. I try to get some small talk going to distract from what is probably an abominable sight for him. “So you ate at some Mexican restaurant earlier?”

“Yeah, we did.”

“Risky move, I’d say, bringing an American to a Mexican restaurant.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because everyone knows we can’t ever compete with the way they do it over there. Everyone’s always like ‘Oh you don’t know Mexican food until you go to the states’. Or whatever.”

“Or Mexico.” He supplies, and I grin.

“In case your memory has been lost to the sands of time, I did actually live my entire teenage life in Dublin. I was here for the inception of the burrito craze, but still, you’re right. It’s not the same.” He drums his fingers on the side of the plastic bottle. He’s still got some of that zippy, restless energy that he used to have, but not as intensely as before. I no longer get the sense that he might rocket out of his seat at any moment. “It was nice to see Shane and Claire again, they both look good.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah! Shane looks so much fitter than he ever did, he’s in great shape.”

“He’s been training a lot. He has to drive back home twice a week to train with the team, and even outside of that he’s in the gym the whole time.”

“Good for him.”

“Bit miserable though, you don’t think?”

He smirks. “Clearly you think so.”

“Well.” I begin, swallowing a huge mouthful of kebab. “He doesn’t really ever do anything fun. He gets barely any free time, and even at that his coach has all these strict rules about how much he’s allowed to drink and whatnot.”

“Alright Evie.” He says in a mock-condescending voice, but it makes me feel a little ashamed all the same. I never realised how easily unkind words spilled out of my mouth before, and it’s not even like I have a particular problem with Shane. But Jude is being nice, he goes on speaking before I start flailing around looking for an excuse for myself.

“I remember having to do that back when I was on my school rugby team.” He reminisces. “Funnily enough, another rule was abstinence.”

I glance up from my food. “Really?”

“They said that sex’d diminish our energy and testosterone and we’d end up playing a weak game, but…” He shrugs. “I don’t think it ever made a real difference. It was probably another one of those weird Catholic rules that your country is obsessed with.” I bristle a little bit against the way he says ‘your country’ like he’s divorced from it, like he hasn’t got our weird Catholic blood in his veins.

“So come on, Evie.” He says, leaning his elbows onto the table. “What’s been going on with you? I can’t believe it’s been so long since we spoke.”

“I know.” I say. “I guess we lost touch at one point there.” I slide my eyes up to meet his, not feeling as jovial as I had a minute ago, and his smile falters to become a little rueful. “Yeah, I regret that. Life got so busy for me so quickly after I moved, I guess it was kind of a whirlwind situation.” He touches his hair self consciously. “But I thought of you often, I always imagined that we might see each other again.”

“Ah well, here we are.” I say. “A year and a half later.” I watch his hand reach out to touch my arm but I swiftly move it out of the way to grab my milkshake so that his palm hits the table instead. He curls it slowly into a fist and pulls it back onto his lap. “You look really different.” He says. “You know, I always think of you with that really long hair.”

“Yeah I cut it all off.”

“ And are you still running? And swimming? Do you still do all of that?”

“No, actually, I don’t.” I say. “I suppose I fell out of the habit of it when I moved here, I don’t really do many of the things I used to do.” I’m different now, I’ve changed so much since we last spoke. I look different, I do different things, and I feel differently about him now than I did when I was seventeen. I have to keep repeating this in my head as he gives me the kind of familiar smile that threatens to wipe out the last nineteen months.

I stare at him unsmiling. “How’s things in Berlin? Better than they were here after all?”

“Really good. Hey.” A frown comes between his eyebrows and the corners of his pretty mouth turn downwards with concern. “Are you angry with me over losing touch?”

“Why’d you ask?”

“You’ve just gone so chilly all of a sudden, I don’t know.”

I pause for a moment. “It’d be a bit intense if I was still angry over something like that, wouldn’t it?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Well, good to know you got my email. It’s a pity it wasn’t worth responding to.”

He laughs with surprise, as though he was expecting me to act the way I used to act. Docile. “Oh, come on, don’t be like that. I could have dealt with it better, but I was in a new city, and there were all of these new people. I left it sitting there too long and then, well, it felt like it’d be weird to respond after so much time.”

“Well, you know if you really wanted to you could have emailed me in a new thread.”

He arches his eyebrow “And equally, you could have sent the first message.”

I snap my mouth shut and pick through my food again, knowing that he’s right, but also knowing that I wouldn’t have been capable of doing something like that, double emailing him, like some kind of pathetic, desperate fool. The kind of pitiful low that I’d never have stooped to, not in front of him.

“You have a new piercing in your ear.” I say quietly after a few moments of silence, grasping at anything that will stop this conversation heading down a too-vulnerable path. He reaches up to fiddle with the third tiny hoop in his ear, this one on the left side, looped around his anti-helix.

“Yeah I figured that I already have a girl’s name and my dad thinks the other two piercings mean I’m gay so I might as well double down.” He grins. “I got it done when I went to Slovenia, actually. It was painful.”

“Little baby.” I tease. “I don’t remember mine being that bad, I got it done when I was like sixteen.”

His eyes go wide as he suddenly recalls. “I remember your piercings, you used to have four on one ear. Let me see.”

I turn my head to show him that they’re all gone now, nothing dangling from them but a simple set of gold hoops in my lobes. “I took them all out.” I admit. “They just didn’t feel like me anymore.”

“Damn, I always thought they were cool.” I almost remind him that nothing about me back then was cool, but then stop myself because I know now that language like that is a trap and he’ll only feel obligated to deny it.

“Any other surprises up your sleeve?” I ask him, and he quickly steals another chip. I don’t stop him, finally starting to feel human again.

“Funny you should ask.” He says as he chews on it. “I got this in Thailand.” He rolls up the left sleeve of his sweatshirt to show me the tattoo on the smooth inner skin of his forearm. It’s a mango on a stem with two leaves, done in simple black ink with this appealing, sketchy style. It looks a bit like something he might have drawn.

“Oh, nice.” I say. “Did you design it?”

“No, the woman in the tattoo parlour did. We were just passing by and I knew I had to get something done by her, like, I knew it was a kind of a once-in-a-lifetime thing.”

“Does it mean something special?”

He grins. “Nope, it’s just a nice drawing.”

“Fair enough.” I wonder what it’s like to be so nonchalant about something that’s going to be on your body for the rest of your life. It’s exactly the kind of free spirited thing that I wish I was capable of doing, but sometimes I have anxiety dreams that I’ve gotten a tattoo that I regret in a really prominent place like my face and for some reason nobody will laser it off for me. I take them as a sign that I’m not ready for anything so permanent. He picks at my chips again and I slide them towards him so he can tuck in with fervent enthusiasm, and while he eats I ask him about Thailand.

“I went May last year.” He says. “I always wanted to visit. So my friend Jonas and I decided to take off for a month while we had the chance and it was incredible. Seriously. I think everyone should go and experience it if they can.”

“Really? What was it like?”

“I can’t even do it justice by trying to describe it to you. C’mere.” He pats the seat next to him and pulls out his phone. “I’ll show you some pictures.”

I slide out of my seat and move in next to him, being very careful to leave enough room for Jesus between us in case our legs touch and sand of those dangerous feelings I used to have come flying back.

“No Blockia.” I comment.

“Hm?”

“Your old phone. It’s gone.”

“Yes.” He grins. “I couldn’t fight the future anymore, it just wasn’t practical, I needed Google Maps to get around.”

“They have torches built in now, did you know.”

He exhales a laugh and shakes his head. “Alright, well, let’s look at my holiday to Thailand, when you’re ready.” And he starts scrolling through photographs of the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, his phone screen becoming like a travel brochure with almost unrealistically spectacular vistas. Thailand looks like paradise, crystal blue waters and white sand, these huge rocks covered in lush vegetation jutting out of the sea and the sky awash with gold as the sun sets over a bay. “That was Railay Beach.” He narrates. “Jonas got food poisoning from a street vendor and was holed up in the hotel for two days so I just wandered around on my own.” Next he shows me photos of beach bars with thatch roofs, of intertwining roots of mangrove trees and of people selling shell necklaces under colourful tents. He’s taken a snap of a hand painted sign that says, in English: Beach This Way.

“You know, in a funny way, it kind of reminds me of the beach we stayed on.” I tell him. “Just something about the way those signs are painted, it’s like how it was at the Surf Shack.”

“Actually, I thought the same thing.” He says, and flicks to the next picture, which is him and a big, blonde German looking guy, presumably Jonas, standing in a little wooden boat holding a pair of oars. “Oh, this is when Jonas was better.”

“I like your hair band.” I say, snickering.

“Ha. Yeah, well, my hair was longer, I needed to keep it out of my eyes somehow.”

“Did you keep it?”

“The hairband? Why? Do you want it?”

“Oh yeah for sure, gimme. It’s so stylish.”

He laughs and flips through more, and tells me about them all, Phuket, Ko Samui, Phi Phi islands, and even Bangkok for a few days before they flew home again. In all of the photos he’s got that golden tan that I remember he used to have, summer coloured skin lost now to the winter, and he looks so free and easy and so happy, riding on a motorbike, lying in a canoe, shirtless on the beach and stretched out doing a goofy pose on a sun lounger, I find myself mesmerised by this depiction of his life, like he’s only ever having good days, only ever in gorgeous places, smiling, happy, and I let myself get sucked into the fantasy that a life like this is possible for me too until he scrolls too far and I have to look at a picture of him kissing his girlfriend. My stomach drops instantly.

“Oops. “ He says. “Went too far.”

I laugh awkwardly. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s okay.”

“That’s my girlfriend, Astrid.”

“She looks pretty.”

He nods in agreement. “She’s, yeah… she’s absolutely beautiful.” He quickly flips to another photo of her where she’s not locking lips with him and makes me look at her smiling face so that I can pretend I didn’t spend months cyber stalking her. I don’t really know what to say. “Yeah, wow, she’s something else.”

He stares down at the phone with this adoring expression on his face as though he’s the luckiest man alive and this feeling comes over me that I haven’t felt in a very long time. It’s the same way I felt when he rejected my misguided teenage attempts at seduction, and the same way I felt when I saw his face when he spoke to Michelle. It’s the feeling that I’m not what he wants. I’ll never be what he wants. The memory of it is too much and all over again I feel the stinging pain of knowing that I offered my love to someone who saw no worth in it.

I start gathering my empty milkshake cup and the greasy papers onto a tray to dump them into a nearby bin. “We should get going now.” I tell him. “I’m sure everyone else is waiting for us at the bar, and they’ll be closing soon.”

“Right.” He says, pushing himself upright and swiping salt from his black jeans. “Thank you for the chips, by the way. I wasn’t even that hungry but those things are like crack to me.”

“No problem. And I appreciate you coming with me to get food.”

Prev // Next

#sims #sims 4 #ts4 #simlit #sims 4 story #sims story #writing #fiction #romance #sims4 storytelling #sims 4 storytelling #sims storytelling #lucky girl part 2

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littleperilstories · 1 year

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The Prince of Thieves: I'm Not Lost, This Fate Was Mine to Choose

Mood Boards | Chapter Titles | Also on A03! | Playlist | Story Intro

Warnings: Mention of jail/police, mention of firearms, mention of death, angst

Historically (for a while), the term 'guns' meant artillery and not 'small' firearms like muskets etc. but I used 'guns' in here bc 'small arms' sounds very stilted in dialogue to a modern ear ok byyyeee

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Word count: 1872 || Approx reading time: 8 mins

I'm Not Lost, This Fate Was Mine to Choose

Teaser: “I still can’t believe this is happening.” It’s foolish to speak when the rest of the world is still so quiet; my voice carries through the morning air. Worry twists my gut so ferociously, though, I have to say something to take my mind off it. If I don’t, I might burst.

Bree

Dawn comes too soon, creeping up on us with stealthy, nimble footsteps. One moment, I am curled near the hearth, James Wardrew’s coat thrown over me like a blanket; the next, I’m shambling across the floor and blinking sleep from my eyes, blearily following the smell of just-brewed tea, nursing a deepening sense of horror as I remember exactly why we’re up so early and where we’re going.

And then we’re shivering in the early morning air, skulking through town the long way, two groups approaching the meeting point from different angles—me and Spider together, James and Geoff dragging Hatchett through the woods.

“I still can’t believe this is happening.” It’s foolish to speak when the rest of the world is still so quiet; my voice carries through the morning air. Worry twists my gut so ferociously, though, I have to say something to take my mind off it. If I don’t, I might burst.

I glance up at Spider, waiting for her to shush or glare me into silence, but she simply nods and, after a moment, speaks too. “I hate this.”

Although she and James have found an odd, tenuous peace between the two of them, they’re still tense. Uncomfortable, sharp with each other. I don’t know either of them very well, but I can tell it hurts both of them to be so at odds. She’s been stiff and quiet since the moment it came out that she was there when Will was flogged, which seems to be the source of their conflict, as far as I can tell. Stiff, quiet, and guilty.

You shouldn’t feel so bad. The words have been on the tip of my tongue so many times. Aren’t secrets sometimes for the best? Don’t we all keep them sometimes to avoid hurting others more than necessary?

More than that, though, it’s fucking rich of James Wardrew to be guilting her so heartily about hiding things, because he’s been doing the exact same thing to everyone else.

You got my message, then.

It was impossible to tell from what I overheard what was contained in the message James sent to Hatchett, but I gleaned enough from their muttered conversation: James promised something in an effort to negotiate Will’s release.

A message—a note. The signature was what gave Hatchett the information to start puzzling together Will’s name and identity—all because of me, when I told him, like a goddamn idiot, that if he had the name of one brother, he could find the name of the other.

All Will had to do was say a single word—his surname—that matched a name in Hatchett’s notes, and the game was over.

Despite being on Spider’s case about being secretive, James is keeping it hidden that he sent that letter at all.

I wanted to say something—to him, to Spider, to Geoff.

I’m a coward, though.

Instead, when James stepped outside once he was done talking to Hatchett, and I scrambled away from the door to look as if I were just approaching—and hadn’t had my ear pressed against the wood mere moments before—I said, “I wasn’t throwing myself at anyone.”

Good god, the look he gave me. He didn’t even seem to remember that You were throwing yourself at him like the slut you are was what Hatchett said to send me soaring across the room to slap him across his horrid face.

“Well…that’s good, I suppose?” he said, scratching behind his ear, appearing to gather his patience from a well that was running dry.

I cringe now at the memory. Anything else would have been better than saying that.

Most of all, however, I wish I’d been brave enough to tell him, You don’t get to be mad at her when you’re keeping an even bigger secret from everyone else.

But I held my tongue—once a coward, forever a coward. Hiding from confrontation. Hiding from the truth.

Awaiting a sign that it’s time to move, Spider and I sit in shadow. Tall, luxurious manors loom over us, the lavish structures brimming with silence and, for me, memories of a childhood in a place not much different.

So far, there have been no constables patrolling this area, but no doubt they’re around somewhere.

“I wish…” Her voice trails off, and when she glances at me, I can see what she’s thinking: Perhaps you’re not the right person to talk to about this.

I pull my “borrowed” shawl closer around me—Spider found one somewhere, and though I’ve no idea where it came from, I can guess it wasn’t originally hers—hoping the hurt doesn’t show on my face. I’ve ended up in yet another place where I don’t belong, where I’m not truly wanted. “Wish he wouldn’t go face them himself?”

She nods, her mouth pressed into a grim line. “He’s being a fucking idiot. Reckless. Acting like…”

My throat aches. I know how to finish this sentence for her. “Like Will.”

She agrees, drawing in a long, angry breath.

“They might see his face,” I say. “Or catch him. Arrest him, too.”

“I told him that.”

“They could kill him.”

“I told him that.”

I gulp at the next thought that slips out, one we’ve been dancing around for the last day but have been powerless to do anything about. “What if they have…guns?”

In the prison, where every altercation was at close range, the constables favoured their batons. Now, in the dread-soaked minutes before a meeting that’s as likely to turn into a bloodbath as not, I think of the cracks that broke through the darkness the night I escaped, the salty tang of gunpowder in the air. The machines of death that they could wield today if they wanted. If they really wanted to make sure none of us escaped with our lives.

“It’s likely.”

I shudder. “He doesn’t care?”

Spider takes a long moment to respond. When she does, her voice cracks. “He cares.”

He cares about saving his brother.

But for god’s sake, he can’t die. Seeing him—that was the only thing Will wanted, the only thing he truly cared about. I know that now. If James doesn’t make it out today…

Flicking a dead beetle that’s somehow stuck to her shoe into the dirt, Spider says, “He just keeps saying there’s no one else.”

Somewhere down the street, voices swell. Constables? The early morning bickering of a family? Servants in these enormous, wealthy households making plans for the day, risen so early to perform the jobs for which they are paid mere pennies?

“No one else, what?”

A cold breeze ruffles her dark curls, rustles the layers of her skirt. “No one else who can be the one to meet the constables and make the trade.”

When did they even have this conversation? The hunting cabin is so small, surely I’d have heard it, unless I was asleep. Doesn’t the inner circle ever rest? “That’s bullshit.”

Her mouth twitches. “Mmm hmm. But I think, mostly, he wants to be the one Will sees when the trade goes down.” She falters. Quietens. “And he doesn’t want to risk anyone else getting grabbed or killed.”

He was playing the hero again, you know.

“They’re exactly the same,” I say.

With a sad smile, as if she can tell who I mean even though I didn’t clarify, she says, “I suppose, in some ways, they are.”

I glance away from her, turning my head so I can brush a finger against my eyes. Too many times I’ve burst into tears in front of her and James and Geoff, these last few days. I won’t do it again now.

There’s no one else. The words go around and around my head: persistent, irritating, unyielding. No one else.

If James goes in for the trade, assuming they don’t just shoot him right away, he risks destroying everything he’s worked so hard for—destroying all the good IA has done, possibly forever.

What, again, of his mysterious message? What was in it? What if, when James gets there, the constabulary tries to hold him to whatever he said?

And if he gets arrested or shot or beaten to death…

There’s no one else.

But of course there is. Someone whose face the constables already know.

Someone who has nothing to lose, who has had nothing to lose for a very long time.

When the sun is creeping up the horizon, painting a swath of light across the sky, there’s noise and movement in the distance. Wheels. A terse command or two. And then footsteps—that of heavy, iron-studded boots.

They’re here.

Before James or anyone else can step out from the woods, I slip from my hiding place and walk directly into Junior Constable Michaelson’s line of sight.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Spider’s voice fades as I hurry away from her. I pretend not to notice; I don’t need to hear anything else. This is a terrible idea, I know.

But if it keeps James out of the line of fire long enough to set Will free…

Michaelson stares at me for a long moment, his face purpling. “This must be some ridiculous joke.”

“No.” I want to say something smart, something rude and irreverent, something Will would say. My mind has gone blank.

This man—he cut open my skin and watched me bleed.

He held a knife to my throat.

He whipped me until my back was covered in welts and bruises.

Michaelson’s lip curls, the expression far too Hatchett-like for my comfort. “Well. This is how it goes, then. The little viper returns. Came back for more, did you?”

“Where’s Will?” I do not trust myself to keep conversation with this man. All it took the other day for me to lose control and slap Baden Hatchett across his wicked face was a single word.

I cannot afford to lose my wits today.

“Where’s the constable?”

“You’ll see him soon enough.” I feel naked under his glare, just as I did the first time I stood in his leering gaze. Such a short time ago, and yet it feels like a lifetime.

I am not the same girl as I was that day.

“You’ll see him,” I repeat. There is no need to fear this man, I tell myself. He will not touch me until Hatchett is safe—and Hatchett won’t walk free until Will is out of their clutches. “Not yet. Not until you give back Will.”

I do not need to be afraid, because I have nothing left outside of this moment, this aching body, these clothes I wear that are not even mine. Hatchett knows it, he told me so, and I, too, know he’s right. No family and no friends beyond this family I am now trying so desperately to protect. No one who will miss my wretched, worthless, insignificant life.

If I die today, I’m leaving behind nothing except the deeds I did while living.

So I must make sure those deeds are the right ones, until the end. I must make sure—if I die today—my last act is saving IA. Saving James.

Saving Will.

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Tagging: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @gala1981, @kixngiggles .

[Banner ID: A narrow horizontal, rectangular banner featuring a barred archway. The bars and the stone walls evoke the feeling of a dungeon or prison. There are burning candles on either side of the archway. The title of the story, The Prince of Thieves, appears in white text in the centre of the image. The author's username, abbreviated to LPS from littleperilstories, appears in the bottom right corner in partially transparent text. End ID.]

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ambiguous-sanskars · 1 year

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Part 3 (final part!) of the prompt fill for the lovely @vijayasena <3 Thank you for all the love and encouragement, writing this has been an adventure!

Read on AO3

“Babai, I can’t do this,” Ram lamented to his uncle in the courtyard of Scott’s mansion. Dusk had fallen, and Ram’s eyes were yet to dry. “I can’t do this anymore. Not to him, not to my Bheema. They’ll kill him, Babai. The governor wants to hang him tomorrow. If I lose him-” Ram choked on his words, struggling to breathe.

“Ram,” Babai tried. “Fifteen years you’ve put towards your goal. Can we afford to take this kind of risk so close to the end?”

“I can’t do this.”

“All the times you’ve sacrificed yourself and your people for this mission- what is different this time, Ram? Why is Bheem different?”

“What will I do,” Ram sobbed into his hands. “What will I do with the weapons, what will I do with victory, if it costs me a friend like him?”

“This isn’t about you, Ram. This fight is bigger than the both of you. It’s bigger than all of us.”

Ram looked up, heartbreak evident in his eyes. “Don’t you see? There is no fight if there’s no one left to fight for. What is a nation, Babai, if not for its people? What is freedom if Malli is locked behind bars? Who am I even fighting for if Bheem is dead?”

Babai crossed his arms, stepping right in front of Ram. “I hear you. I’m not saying what you want to do is wrong. I’m just saying that when you look back on this moment years from now, you should not regret a decision taken in the throes of grief. So dry your tears, and tell me calmly what it is you plan to do.”

All his life, Ram had prided himself on being strong, level-headed, and rational. But he knew that if he ever faltered, his Babai would be right there to set him back on track.

Ram took several deep breaths to calm down. Then he got to his feet.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.”

As Ram used Babai as a sounding board to refine his plans for Bheem and Malli’s escape, Sakshi listened closely from around the corner. She’d lived in this mansion for long enough to know how sound traveled and where shadows fell at what hour. It was the easiest thing to find a hiding spot from which to eavesdrop.

As they finished putting together a game plan, Sakshi came up with strategic lies she could feed Scott to lead him astray. The governor had wanted to see her tonight, just to make sure Ram hadn’t had a sudden change of heart before Bheem’s hanging.

Sakshi smirked. In the end, it wasn’t Ram’s betrayal Scott should have feared. It was hers.

Suddenly, Sakshi heard her name, causing her to tune back into the conversation.

“…be the person Sakshi thinks I am,” Ram was saying. “I want to be worthy of her love. And-”

“Ram.”

Ram stopped mid-sentence, frowning at the interruption. “What is it, Babai?”

“Repeat that name.”

“What name?”

“This woman who said she loves you. Whom you love. What was her name?”

“Sakshi.”

No sooner had the word left Ram’s mouth than Babai shushed him, casting a furtive glance around the courtyard. Hidden from view, Sakshi frowned. What was going on?

Then Babai began to speak.

“Sakshi is not who you think she is,” he whispered to Ram. “She is Governor Scott’s right hand. She is a weapon of surveillance and destruction. Her loyalties lie with the British.”

Ram stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “Babai, forgive me, but that’s patently insane. She’s a historian.”

“I hear things, Ram. The guards and the servants talk. Sakshi has grown up in this mansion. Scott kidnapped her when she was just a little older than Malli, right after she watched her mother being burned alive.”

“Burned alive?!”

“Sati.”

“Oh.”

“Scott promised her that he would bring a new, civilized future to this land, a future where no woman would be condemned by her own people to die a horrible death, for no crime of her own.”

“And she believed him,” Ram said, horror mounting.

“She was a child. She wanted justice. She wanted safety. Scott promised her both of those things, things her own community could not - or would not - give her.”

“Babai-”

“Ram, you’ve been an officer in Delhi for over a decade. Sakshi has lived in the mansion this entire time. Why do you think it took you so long to run into her?”

The gears turned in Ram’s head.

“Sakshi isn’t seen unless she wants to be seen. And if she has been watching you, it can only mean one thing.”

“Governor Scott doesn’t trust me,” Ram realized.

“Yes,” Babai confirmed, “but forget about Scott. If Sakshi wants Bheem out of the way, then he is as good as dead.”

The blood drained from Ram’s face. “She was asking about him. Just yesterday, she asked me where he was.” Ram took his uncle by the shoulders. “New plan. We have to break him out now.”

Sakshi watched the two of them sprint out of the courtyard. Then she slammed her fist into the brick wall, swearing colorfully.

Of all the times for her cover to be blown.

She did some quick calculations. If Ram freed Bheem, then Bheem would immediately try to free Malli, and all of them would most likely be caught.

But if Sakshi freed Malli right now, there was a good chance that they could all get out undetected.

The only problem with that plan was that she’d miss her meeting with Scott, and he’d come looking for her.

Sakshi paused, tilting her head to the side. Maybe that wasn’t a problem. Maybe it was an opportunity.

She sprinted through the front door of the mansion, rushing right past the torn British flag that no one had bothered to replace. Today, she didn’t need to cover her face.

When she arrived at Malli’s cell, Sakshi found her sitting hunched over by the bars, tapping on them rhythmically with a twig. Sakshi felt an odd combination of anguish and pride.

Malli had been through so much at such a young age. The degree of captivity and objectification she’d survived would have driven many an adult to insanity.

But Malli was an indomitable spirit, Sakshi realized - a force that when imprisoned, would play music on the bars of her cell. The kid would grow up to lead the fight that she’d been made a pawn in.

Sakshi smiled. Scott never stood a chance.

“Malli,” she said softly. Malli looked up, scrutinizing Sakshi’s face.

“Who?” she asked.

“Your Akka,” Sakshi answered. She placed a hand over her heart. “Remember? Sakshi-akka.”

Malli’s eyes widened in recognition. “Akka! I didn’t see your face last time!”

Sakshi laughed. “Yeah, I was hiding. But I’m not anymore. Are you ready to get out of here?”

“Yes!”

Sakshi pulled a bobby pin out of her own hair and quickly picked the lock.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” Malli asked in awe.

“Of course,” Sakshi scoffed. “For a smart girl like you? It’s easy.” She took Malli’s hand. “Ok, let’s go. Your Bheem-anna is waiting for you outside.”

Malli set one foot outside the cell and came to a dead stop.

Sakshi turned around. “Love, what’s wrong? We have to move quickly, come.”

Malli shook her head. She pulled her hand out of Sakshi’s grip. “No. I’m not coming.”

“What? Why?”

Malli blinked back tears. “Akka, it’s okay. I’ll stay here.”

“You will not!”

“I will.”

“Malli-”

“Please, Akka, just go!”

Sakshi got to her knees, tenderly taking Malli’s face in her hands. “Malli, sweetie, it’s okay. Shhhh. Take a breath. There we go.” Sakshi brushed away her tears. “Don’t be scared, love. It’s going to work this time. I’ll get you home.”

“It’s not that,” Malli sniffled.

“Then what is it?”

“Everyone who tries to help me gets hurt. Amma, Bheem-anna, you…” Malli’s gaze drifted to Sakshi’s gauze-wrapped hand. “It’s okay. I can stay here. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me. I don’t want-” Malli’s voice cracked. “I don’t want them to hurt you or Bheem-anna again.”

Sakshi stood up and turned away, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. She was going to kill Scott. She was going to fucking murder him and his wife.

“Akka? Will you please tell Bheem-anna I’m sorry, and that I love him?”

“No,” Sakshi said, feeling Malli’s grief like a physical ache in her chest. She held out a hand to the child. “Whatever you want to tell him, you can tell him yourself.”

Malli hesitated.

“Malli, listen to me. This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.”

“But-”

“Fine. If you’re not going, I’m not going.” Sakshi crossed the threshold of the cell and sat down.

Malli panicked. “Akka, Scott will find you!”

“Let him.”

“What if he kills you?!”

“Let him.”

“No,” Malli said, seizing Sakshi’s hand. “Come on, Akka, we’re going. Now.”

“Are you sure?” Sakshi raised an eyebrow.

“Akka, get up!”

Sakshi got to her feet, unable to keep the grin off her face. She scooped Malli into her arms. “Look who finally came to their senses.”

Malli giggled through her tears, looping her arms around Sakshi’s neck. Sakshi carried her all the way to the courtyard. Then she put her down and pointed in the direction of the prison cells.

“See that watchtower?”

Malli nodded.

“Run towards that. Your Bheem-anna will find you.”

“What about you, Akka? Aren’t you coming with us?”

“I am. I just need to take care of something first.”

Malli looked worried, but she nodded. She held out her arms to Sakshi.

Sakshi got down on her knees and embraced Malli, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Go. Don’t look back.”

***

Ram threw open the door of Bheem's cell in a panic. Bheem’s head snapped up at the clatter of the bars. When he caught sight of Ram, he froze.

Ram took a step inside. Bheem tensed, bracing for violence.

Tears welled up in Ram’s eyes. The mere thought that Bheem expected - was prepared, even - for Ram to hurt him immediately brought Ram to his knees.

“With what words shall I beg your forgiveness,” Ram wept. He stared at the ground, unable to look Bheem in the eye. “I have done what no friend, no brother, should ever do. When I look in the mirror, I don’t recognize the person I’ve become.”

Ram took a shaky breath, unable to stop the words as they tumbled out of him. There, on his knees in a damp prison cell in the dead of night, he confessed to Bheem every act of violence he had committed in Scott’s service. He told him what he had never told another soul before - how his family was killed, his father’s last words, the mission he had inherited.

So enveloped was Ram by his remorse that he did not see Bheem’s eyes widen in understanding. He did not see Bheem’s hands jerk in their restraints as he tried to reach out.

“Tammudu,” Ram whispered the endearment like he was afraid it would burn his tongue. “Tammudu, I do not deserve to be forgiven. But please, find it in your heart to trust me. We don’t have much time. I beg of you, trust me to take you and Malli to safety.”

“An- Annayya,” Bheem’s voice was contorted with pain. Ram looked up to see Bheem straining against his chains with enough force that fresh blood dripped from his wrists.

“Bheema, wait! Let me remove…” Ram trailed off as he dug through his pockets for the key to the cuffs.

The moment one hand was free, Bheem brought it up to cradle Ram’s face, tenderly brushing his fingers over Ram’s bruised jaw and black eye.

Bheem closed his eyes, sending tears streaming down his cheeks.

“How could I have ever raised a hand against you in anger? You did everything you could to protect me, and I-” Bheem’s breath caught in his throat. He hid his face in Ram’s chest, clutching at the front of his jacket. “Forgive me, forgive my ignorance. Annayya, I did not know. Please forgive me-”

“Bheema, don’t.” Ram struggled to unlock the second cuff, his vision blurring with new tears. “Don’t apologize. I cannot bear it.”

The lock finally clicked open. As the chain fell to the ground, Ram wrapped his arms around Bheem, holding on as if for dear life.

After a minute, he carded a hand through Bheem’s matted hair.

“I thought I lost you,” Ram confessed, barely above a whisper. Bheem tightened his fists in Ram’s bloodstained jacket, too overcome with emotion to speak. He shook his head where it lay over Ram’s heart.

“Come, Bheema,” Ram said, coaxing Bheem away from him just enough to see his face. “We have to get Malli. We don’t have much time.”

Suddenly, Babai shouted something from outside the cell. A child’s voice responded.

Bheem looked at Ram excitedly. “That’s Malli!”

He stumbled outside, pulling Ram along.

As Bheem gathered the child into his arms, Ram looked around suspiciously. How had Malli escaped?

“Malli,” Ram started, trying not to feel hurt when she looked at him with apprehension. “How did you-”

“Not now,” Babai insisted. “We have to get out of here before the guards realize anything is amiss. Let’s go.”

Malli ran ahead alongside Babai. Bheem followed, his arm slung over Ram’s shoulders for support.

They were almost at the gate when Bheem stopped.

“What is it?” Ram asked urgently.

“Where’s Sakshi-vadina? Shouldn’t we get her? She works here, right? Won’t Scott-”

“Enough, Bheema,” Ram ordered, uncharacteristically firm. He turned away, certain that Bheem would see the fragments of his broken heart in his eyes. “I will never put you in harm’s way again. Not for anything or anyone.”

***

Sakshi returned to her room in the mansion for the last time. She unlatched the iron trunk next to her bed and extracted an ornate bow. She strapped a quiver full of arrows to her back.

When she turned around, she found herself face to face with a livid Scott.

The corners of Sakshi’s mouth curved up in a sinister smile.

“Hello, sir.”

For once in his life, Scott did what any reasonable man would do. He turned and fled.

Sakshi strode after him in pursuit. With her peripheral vision, she noted British troops mobilizing in the courtyard below. One soldier aimed his rifle towards the forest.

Without ever taking her eyes off Scott, Sakshi drew her bow. She listened for the click of the rifle being readied. Then she sent an arrow straight through the soldier’s skull.

All hell broke loose, with soldiers trampling each other to get to cover. Sakshi continued walking after Scott, picking off soldiers one by one on the side every time she passed a window to the courtyard.

Suddenly, someone stepped between Sakshi and Scott. It was Catherine.

“So this is how you repay our years of kindness,” she said, looking down the bridge of her nose at Sakshi. “We should have kept you in a cage, like that girl, Malli.”

Sakshi rolled her eyes. She looked over Catherine’s shoulder just in time to see Scott run around the corner towards the exit. The coward.

“What are you going to do?” Catherine sneered. “A bow is no good at this close a distan-”

Sakshi punched Catherine in the stomach and slung the bow around her neck as she stood doubled over. Then Sakshi pulled, relishing the sound of tracheal rings cracking beneath the bow’s handle.

The governor’s wife slumped to the ground. Sakshi stepped over her lifeless body and forged ahead.

She followed the troops into the forest, taking out anyone who raised a rifle in the direction of Ram, Bheem, Malli, or Babai. Her eyes swept the dark foliage, looking for Scott.

It wasn’t long before she found him. Hidden behind a bush, the governor had his rifle trained on Bheem. Bheem, who was standing directly between Sakshi and her target.

Sakshi cursed under her breath. She lifted her bow, aiming as best as she could. She waited.

A tiny corner of her mind registered the sound of leaves rustling to her right. It tried to warn her. She ignored it.

Bheem lifted his head, and Scott positioned his finger on the trigger. Sakshi pulled the arrow back as far as it would go.

Then several things happened all at once.

Sakshi released the arrow, which whistled across the clearing and lodged itself in Scott’s throat. The rifle tumbled from Scott’s hand a millisecond before he could pull the trigger.

Unfortunately, on its way to Scott, the arrow grazed Bheem’s earlobe. The wound was small, but if anyone was standing exactly 3 meters to Sakshi’s right, all they would have seen was a near miss of what could easily have been a shot meant to take Bheem’s life.

Ram was standing 3 meters to Sakshi’s right. As his heart tried to beat out of his chest, he took aim with his own bow.

Seeing that Bheem was safe, Sakshi turned to investigate the sound to her right. What she found was the love of her life standing with his bow drawn, string pulled taut.

“No, wait-”

Ram released the arrow.

Sakshi felt it slam into her chest with the force of a freight train. She stumbled backwards, reaching up to grab the arrow’s shaft.

“Goddamnit, you really just shoot first and ask questions later, huh?” she spat at Ram. She yanked the arrow out of her body with a grunt, crumpling to the ground and propping herself up against a rock.

“Vadina!” Bheem cried, running to her side. He pressed his hands over her wound, desperately trying to stem the bleeding.

Sakshi covered his hand with hers. “Shh, Bheema, it’s okay. Relax. It’s okay.”

“Bheema, get away from her,” Ram ordered. “She wants to kill you.”

“I saved him!” Sakshi shot back, gasping with the effort it took to yell. “Look, Rama.” She pointed shakily towards Scott’s corpse. “I was protecting Bheem. And you. I’ve been protecting you.”

“You work for Scott,” Ram stated without compassion.

Sakshi nodded weakly. “I’m sorry. It’s true that I deceived you. But I never once sold you out to Scott. Even when I knew, I covered for you.”

“When did you-”

“The night after you arrested Bheem. The way you reacted to his name. The way you reacted to my scars. I knew-” Sakshi paused, squeezing her eyes shut in pain. “There was no way you were loyal to the British.”

“But you still went back to Scott.” The coldness in Ram’s voice faltered as doubt crept in. “You were loyal to the British.”

“Even so, I tried to get Malli out of there.”

“Wait,” Ram’s eyes grew wide. “That was you on the ledge. You were the other protector.”

Sakshi nodded.

Ram’s blood turned to ice as he realized what he had done. “But- Sakshi, you- What made you rebel against the British? What changed?”

Sakshi smiled tiredly, looking away to catch Bheem’s gaze. She jerked her chin in Ram’s direction.

“He has no idea how beautiful he is, does he?”

Bheem sobbed quietly, resting his forehead on Sakshi’s shoulder. Ram panicked.

“Bheema, you need to save her! How can we stop the bleeding? You know the forest. What herbs can-”

“Rama,” Sakshi tried, “there is nothing to be-”

“Don’t tell me there’s nothing to be done! Bheema, please…”

“Annayya,” Bheem whispered, looking at Ram with a love that bordered on hate. “Your aim is never false. When you released this arrow, did you leave room for Vadina to survive?”

“Bheema!”

“No, don’t-” Sakshi struggled to draw a breath. “Don’t yell at him. He’s suffered enough.” She turned to look at Bheem, squeezing his hand where it still lay over her wound. “Bheema, forgive me. Forgive me for taking so long to realize what was right. What needless pain my inaction put you through.”

Bheema shook his head. “Vadina, please don’t, I would endure everything a hundred times over, if only it would change this.”

“I wouldn’t let you.”

A heavy numbness settled over Ram as he watched the two of them converse. His arms felt like lead at his sides. He tried to step towards them, but it was as though his feet were bolted to the ground.

Ram had spent most of his life living through experiences that were worse than death. But nothing had ever hurt like this.

***

Babai held onto Malli’s hand as they ran, trying to put as much space between Malli and the British troops as possible. He knew that Ram and Bheem would be fine; they were fighters. Or so he told himself.

“Babai, please stop,” Malli said, gasping for breath. “Just one second.”

“We have to keep moving, child. We must get to safety. I can carry you if you’re tired.”

“Like Sakshi-akka did.”

“Like- what?” Babai did a double take. “Wait, what?”

Malli sat down on the ground, exhausted. “Sakshi-akka. She’s the one who helped me escape.”

Babai blinked in disbelief. “What? Since when?”

“Since the day Bheem-anna came to the mansion with all the tigers. She carried me all the way up the courtyard wall. She tried to protect me, but Scott broke her hand, and…”

As Malli narrated the events of the past several days, Babai’s face grew ashen.

“She told me how to get to Bheem-anna,” Malli finished. “She said she would come with us.”

“We have to go,” Babai said. He lifted Malli into his arms and sprinted back through the forest. He knew his Ram. He knew that boy never missed a shot. He had to get to Ram before… before…

They were too late.

“Akka!” Malli wrenched herself out of Babai’s grip and ran to Sakshi’s side. Bheem moved out of the way, still trying in vain to keep pressure on the wound.

“Akka, who did this?”

“Scott,” Sakshi lied without missing a beat. “The bastard.”

Fire flashed in Malli’s eyes. “Is he dead?”

“Yeah,” Sakshi attempted to laugh and ended up coughing up blood. “He’s dead. He won’t hurt anyone again, love.” She looked at Bheem. “Bheema, take her away from here.”

“No!” Malli dug her nails into the grass as Bheem reached towards her. “Akka, I’m not leaving you!”

“Bheema, take her and go! She’s seen enough death.”

Bheem’s bloodstained hands trembled as he let go of Sakshi and picked up a thrashing and screaming Malli. He carried her a ways into the forest, behind a row of dense foliage. Ram and Sakshi listened as her cries gradually died down, responding to Bheem’s constant stream of quiet assurances. When they could hear nothing but soft sobbing, Ram knelt down next to Sakshi.

“I never got to try your chai recipe,” Sakshi whispered, half-smiling.

Ram tenderly cupped her cheek, flinching at how cold the skin already was. Blood seeped into Sakshi’s lungs, and Ram felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Let me follow you. Let me die on your pyre. It will be justice.”

“That’s not-” Sakshi’s breath hitched. “That’s not how any of this works.”

Ram’s head dropped to her chest. “I cannot live without you, my love. I cannot.”

It wasn’t even an exaggeration, Ram thought. He could feel the life force draining from his body. He was certain that his heart would stop with Sakshi’s last breath.

“You will not be without love. You have Bheem. You have your country. Is that not enough?”

It’s not, Ram wanted to scream. It’s not, it’s not, it’s not…

“Don’t go,” he begged instead. “Don’t leave me alone to be haunted by my actions. Who else can I turn to for forgiveness or punishment?”

“You don’t need either of those things. You have done your duty well. And I…” Sakshi tilted Ram’s head up. She waited until he met her eyes. “I am indebted to you.”

Ram looked at her in bewilderment.

“Thank you,” Sakshi said, “For not letting me die a colonizer.”

Ram wasn’t sure how long he sat there, clinging to Sakshi and struggling to breathe through incessant tears. He wasn’t even sure exactly when Sakshi’s heart stopped.

All he knew was that the edges of the sky were beginning to turn grey when Bheem came to get him. How cruel, Ram thought, that the sun would still rise. How cruel that his heart would still beat.

***

2 YEARS LATER

Ram woke up peacefully. He checked his pocket watch; the time showed 4AM.

Only in the past few months had he finally been able to sleep through the night. Only in the past few weeks had he been able to sleep alone.

He stuck his head into the next room. Bheem and Jenny were fast asleep, curled up in each other’s arms.

Jenny had come after them in the days following their escape, warning them of a bounty that had been declared for their arrest. She��d helped them go underground for a year. Together, they had slowly gathered allies, armed villages, and resumed training.

Ram had seen to it that Malli received a comprehensive education in multiple subjects and languages. She had a real aptitude for art and literature. She could also pick any lock in seconds and reliably beat up someone twice her size, both skills that Ram was sure had been inspired by Sakshi.

Ram returned to his room and stood, head bowed, in front of a garlanded portrait of the love of his life.

This had been a gift from Malli - an incredibly detailed charcoal sketch of Sakshi’s face, with just a touch of color from paints that Malli had mixed herself.

The first time Ram had laid eyes on the portrait, he’d cried until he threw up. Malli, understandably, had been alarmed at his reaction, but Bheem had explained to her that such grief and love were as much a blessing as they were suffering.

“Annayya?” came a soft voice from outside his door. Bheem and Jenny entered. Bheem held out a small cup to Ram. “Chai.”

Ram smiled, accepting it gratefully. He gestured towards his cot. “Sit.”

The three of them sat in comfortable silence, sipping chai and looking at the portrait on the wall.

“Is today a difficult day?” Jenny asked.

“I think so,” Ram acknowledged. He paused. “But we will get through it.”

Jenny leaned her head onto Ram’s shoulder. On Ram’s other side, Bheem reached for his hand.

They would get through it.

#rrr #rrr fanfiction #angst #hurt/comfort #canon divergent #rrr movie #character death

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raditzxsthighband · 1 year

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Gemini Saga Eclipse

Chapter 42: Turn Of The Tide

"Saavoy is my older brother...well, was. But, he died a very long time ago. Unfortunately, he was slain without the chance to defend himself. He couldn't die a warrior's death, so he was unable to go onto the Great Warrior's Rest. I don't know, I suppose he's trapped in Infinite Hell."

"She's seeing ghosts?" Kannon whispered worriedly, her dainty hands covering her face as she agonized over the dangers of Launch being a medium.

"Yes. It's possible that our daughter has a rare power to communicate with the dead," Nappa suggested, though he had come to this conclusion shortly after Launch told him.

"Why didn't you tell me, Launch? Having ahmidsya is not something to be ashamed of." Raditz chuckled, his apprehension slowly seeming to melt away with his relief.

"Ah… amid-see-ya?"

"Yes, Raditz is right. What you have is a gift from the gods!" Nappa enthused, yet Launch and Kannon didn't feel quite as enthralled by the concept. They shared a frightened glance at each other, then the room went silent as the wind battered against the walls outside and raindrops pummeled the roof in powerful sheets.

"I- I'm not sure I want this. I don't know how I'm supposed to help Saavoy! I don't even know why he's asking me for help, what can I do?" Launch cried, dropping her tea cup on the floor, clutching her belly as she attempted to hold back her sobs. Kannon quickly moved to soothe her, as did Raditz, stroking her shoulders and shushing her tears.

Nappa sobered out of his happy spell and looked up at the ceiling in thought, attempting to find a deeper understanding of Launch's dilemma. His daughter was somehow able to tap into the realm of the dead, using a combination of her natural Saiyan telepathic ability and her Gemini mind powers, which had endless possibilities.

"Perhaps you're meant to help him. Since Saavoy's time was cut short before he could reach his true potential, he was not able to rest with the other Saiyan warriors. He must still have business in this world that he needs to finish." Nappa said in a moment of clarity, which stunned Raditz and Kannon.

Launch took a deep inhale and nodded, quelling her tears, though an acerbic taste was building in the back of her throat with Nappa's words.

"....Maybe this is a gift and not a curse. After all, if I can use it to help others, it must be a good thing. I promised to help Saavoy in whatever way I can," she whispered the last part to herself, suddenly feeling a lessening of her nausea.

"It could be dangerous for you–that's what I worry about. How do we know this spirit means well?" Raditz growled and Launch sighed as the reaction she had been dreading came true. She had avoided telling him the truth and with each encounter she had with Saavoy's specter, her anxiety grew.

Raditz moved away from his concerned family and pushed his fingers into his hair at the temples, rubbing his cranium where it felt like the tension was growing with each stressful part of this discussion. He had a strange feeling about it all, as if he too had seen something odd, but didn't understand what until now. During the battle with Vulcane, a mysterious Saiyan had arrived at the last minute to assist them in the Blutzkrieg Blast that killed their enemy and blew up Planet Neptune. Not only that, but when Launch had her miscarriage, he had seen an unfamiliar Saiyan in his mind.

"Stop! Stop!" He screamed, clutching his skull in pain. As Raditz struggled with the agony, a dark shadow flashed in his mind and loomed over him. Its facial features were hidden, yet the silhouette was a near perfect reflection of himself, with long, spiky hair and Saiyan armor making the shadow's outline sharp and jagged. He began to notice the blood and wounds covering the man, before a wagging tail caught his eye, the appendage moving before the full moon that was casting the mysterious Saiyan in shadow.

"Don't let us die."

Realization hit Raditz suddenly, and he fell to his knees, resting his head in Launch's lap as his back heaved with each deep breath he was taking. Noone dared to say anything, though Launch began stroking his mane in an attempt to soothe him. Kannon stood up and began gathering everyone's tea cups with a shaky hand, placing them on a tray before she hurried out of the room with tears in her eyes. Nappa soon followed after, and the younger couple was left alone to allow this situation to sink in beside the fire. Raditz turned his head so that his ear rested against her stomach and cupped her remaining free hand.

"I'm sorry for my reaction, I just…I can't believe this is truly happening to you. I never dared speak of it, but I think I too have seen Saavoy. Once, on the battlefield and the other time to save your life."

Launch nodded and continued to comb the tangles from his unruly spikes, scratching his widow's peak, which always made him purr. Raditz resisted the urge to purr like a big puma, growling instead. Launch let out a giggle and kept scratching until his growls turned into deep, rattling purrs that shook through his body. Though she had little answer to why her ancestor was communicating with them, she knew that Saavoy's presence was not meant to scare them, even if it came across as frightening at times. The essence of his spirit was full of warmth, though it was tortured and writhing with dark energies.

The flickering fire before them cast a dark shadow behind them, which moved along the wall and into a shadowy corner, enjoying the darkness and warmth along with the cuddling mates.

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sunny6677 · 1 year

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Spookytale

(An Undertale x Spooky Month crossover)

Chapter 11: Another Puzzle.

Summary: After an incident involving the whole town getting hypnotized(besides Skid) and falling into a hole, all of them find themselves in a place that will change their life forever.

TWS: NONE.

————

Before they would exit the room, Streber found himself laying eyes on a room that was beside them all as they turned a corner to the next room. But of course, he kept his mouth shut, unsure of whether or not he should go in there. Yet even so, he still found himself clouded with thoughts he would not say aloud.

As the group walked into the next room, they found themself inside of a large and vast room with purple brick walling still. Some brick-blocks were missing from the wall, only showing a dark square-shaped void of nothingness. There seemed to be a pastel purple path that led to the exit of the room, but there also seemed to be some sort of sign before them that they could barely read. Along with that though, there.. appeared to be frog-like creatures inside of the room. Three in fact. But they were seemingly just sitting there, not making a noise whatsoever.

Some of the group stared on in slight anxiety, eyes widened along with their lips being barely parted in anticipation of perhaps another encounter. Skid would see the frog-like creatures in the room, and his lips would form into an excitable grin. He beamed, "Wow! They look so spooky! Can we—" Roy opened his mouth to yell at Skid to shut up, but Lila pressed her finger over her lips and shushed Skid before Roy could even do such a thing.

John paused for a moment. He did not understand why this place was so big, or why it even existed. Surely, he would have known about it if there was some secret underground place containing sentient monsters. So why wasn't he told about this place? Why wasn't anyone told about this place? What even was this place? The only thing he knew was that he had to save those questions for when they finally found Toriel, or at least when Toriel finally found them.

"Let's.. just press on, folks." John said, his gruff voice being slightly muffled by the sounds of slight murmuring from the group. The group nodded in hesitant agreement, and John began to walk along the path, glancing around as he clenched his fists in case of any dangers. He was strong enough, and he had always been strong enough. He could handle any danger himself. And he knew Jack could handle any danger himself too.

As they walked along the path, Jaune had looked around at the brick walling and odd building structure of the entire room. It was then that she had wondered why this place even existed, or how long it had even existed for. She walked close to her son, placing her hands on his shoulders just incase of any sort of encounter that would occur. "What even is this place?" She muttered aloud to herself as she looked up.

Lila, holding her son in her arms, had wondered that question too. She had wondered where exactly this place had even come from, or why it was even hidden beneath the ground. Even so, she watched as Skid glanced around with a happy grin. For what it was worth, at least her son was sort of enjoying himself in this place. She smiled softly down at him, but continued to walk along the path anyway, following behind the two officers up ahead.

Ross, Roy and Robert conversed with eachother. Not knowing exactly what the hell this place even was. Roy was heard grumbling aloud, "Jeez.. I just wanna find Toriel already!" Obviously, he was growing impatient. This place was so vast and so big.. and it would be hard to find anyone in here.

Ross and Robert only tried to remain calm though, not wanting to alarm eachother and Roy further. They sweated nervously, glancing at the frog-like creatures who stared at them from where they were sitting. They could have sworn they heard one of them saying something along the lines of: "My friend never listens to me. Whenever I talk, they skip through my words by pressing [X]. That's right.. pressing [X]..." The creature went silent for a moment, before whining in a croaking voice, "Oh, not you too!"

...

What the hell did that even mean? Neither of them were sure of how to even respond to that.

Susie held Pump in her arms, not wanting him to run off and perhaps get into an encounter. She glanced at the frog-like creatures as she continued to follow the group, not wanting to get lost. Though.. as she listened, she could have sworn she heard words. From the frog in the middle, she had heard: "I heard using F4 can make you have a full screen. But what does F4 stand for? "Four frogs"? I have only seen a maximum of three frogs in this room.. this is troubling, to say the least."

...

...what?

Pump grinned, saying in his excited and childish voice, "Hey, look! The frogs can talk!" Susie only furrowed her brows at the creatures, holding Pump a bit tighter. She only softly remarked in a somewhat uncomfortable voice, "..yeah. They.. can. Let's just go." Of course, Susie continued to walk along the path, a little fearful that the frogs could apparently talk. Then again, Toriel could talk, and she was a sentient goat woman. So she didn't exactly know why she was afraid even so.

As Kevin walked foward behind Jack and John, he pondered just where exactly would they be staying, or if there was some way they could get home that didn't involve the giant hole they all fell into. He had friends and family he needed to get back to, and as much as he somewhat liked that Toriel was helping them out, he still had a life up on the surface. He couldn't just throw it all away.. but he had to admit, he was at least somewhat grateful that the monsters down here seemed friendly enough. Especially Toriel. But as he walked by the third frog, he could of sworn he heard it saying in a croaking voice, "I have heard you are all quite merciful, for humans... surely you know by now that a monster where's a yellow name when you can spare it. What do you think of that?"

Kevin paused, unsure of how to respond. The only monster down here he was seemingly somewhat capable of speaking to was Toriel, even if he was still a little anxious around her due to what happened with the flower earlier. Kevin then hesitantly replied, "Uh.. its helpful?" Honestly, he had no damn idea what this monster was even talking about. But then the frog-like creature replied: "It is rather helpful. Remember, sparing is just saying you won't fight. Maybe one day, you'll have to do it even if their name isn't yellow."

...

He had no idea what that meant either, but he slowly nodded anyway and continued to try and follow John and Jack.

Streber and Ethan had been all the way behind, however. For as Streber was about to follow, he found his eyes laid upon the sign that was right before him. Ethan followed behind him, raising a brow as Streber walked up to it and seemingly bent down to read it. "What does it say?" Ethan asked. "It says.. 'Come eat food made by spiders, of spiders, for spiders!".." Streber read, squinting his eyes in slight confusion. He had to admit, any kind of food sounded appealing right now. But.. the sign had said that the food was made of spiders.

Ethan only commented, "...well, that's weird." Streber only stood back up, and glanced over to Ethan, "Yeah, it's probably bad anyway. Let's just keep following the others." Ethan softly chuckled to himself, smirking, "Well.. alright." The two then continued following the others, slightly speeding up their pace so they would not lose them and perhaps have to journey even further across this place without any sort of guided help.

Streber was about to yell at the others to wait up, opening his mouth so he could form those words. But then.. a ringing sound would then be heard, echoing across the room. It was a phone ringing sound. Immediately, Streber had recognized that it was Toriel calling, despite not being at an exactly close view yet. Ethan was able to tell as well. Though of course, they were only able to tell it was her because.. well, she was the only person they could really call down here.

When Streber and Ethan finally made it closer to everyone, Streber saw how everyone's faces seemed to light up upon hearing the familiar ringing sound. They stopped where they were walking, looking at Roy expectantly as if to tell him to answer. Roy glanced around, raising a brow, confused as to why everyone was staring at him. Of course, he immediately understood, and only gave an irritated sigh. He swiftly pulled out the now vibrating phone from his pocket, and clicked on the screen, seemingly answering it.

Immediately, Toriel's soft feminine voice was heard from the other end of the phone. She sounded almost elegant as she spoke, like a queen or some kind of royalty. "Hello? I just realized that it has been a while since I have cleaned up. I was not expecting to have company so soon. There are probably a lot of things lying about here and there." Her voice spoke from the other end of the phone, soft noises being heard in the background of her own voice. Roy sarcastically remarked, "Well, yeah, I can tell.." (Roy could have sworn he felt someone glare at him, but he ignored it anyway.)

Toriel seemingly heard this remark, but she continued to speak in her sweet and tender voice regardless. She said in a somewhat nervous sounding tone, "..oh, can you? Perhaps I should have cleaned earlier than expected.. well, you all can pick them up if you wish, but do not carry more than you need. Someday one of you might see something you really like. You might want to leave room in your pockets for that."

After a few seconds of silent, Toriel let out a breathy sigh. "...alright. Thank you for listening, my child."

Roy hesitated. He replied in a slow manner as if uncertain of the little nickname she had just called him, though he did not sound rude. He sounded weirdly softer than his tone usually did in fact. "..uh.. yeah, whatever.. um, bye."

"Goodbye." Toriel cheerfully said from the other end of the phone, before a clicking sound was let out from the phone. She had hung up, and a few seconds of silence filled the room once more.

"Well.. I guess we can take that advice. Let's just keep pressin' on, folks." John mumbled, gesturing to the entrance of the next room with his hand. Everyone let out murmurs of agreement, and began to follow John and Jack again. But Jack then quietly muttered to John, "Are you sure we'll be able to find Toriel in this place? It's pretty big down here.."

"I know.. we just gotta keep goin' though. Besides, who knows if we'll find her if we just give up halfway through?" John replied, looking up at John with a softened expression. Jack stared at him for a moment, as if he didn't expect him to say such a thing. Jack then smiled. He commented, "Jeez.. you seem a little more determined than usual."

John raised a brow. "Do I?" Jack laughed softly, though not in a mocking way of course. "Yeah, you must really wanna find Toriel, huh?"

"...yeah, I guess I do." John stated.

As they walked into the next room, John couldn't help but feel a glimmer of Determination inside of him.

————

The next room immediately made Roy let out a groan of annoyance. It had been a bigger room, having dark purple walling, and a narrow black window that was between a sign on the left and two vines on the right. More narrow windows were along the room, toward the end, and there appeared to be more vines as well. Some were even lined over the windows. But what was most curious.. was the exit. The exit appeared to have two silver plates, which had spikes emerged from them. And.. there seemed to be six patches in different parts of the room.

God damn.. it was another puzzle! They would have to solve yet another one.

"Its.. another puzzle." Ross would comment aloud, his hands in his pockets. Robert would inquire in a slightly helpless tone, unsure of what to do himself, "How do we get past this one, uncle?" John did not reply for a moment, merely observing the place for a few seconds. He tapped his foot, and put his hand under his chin, as if thinking about the solution to this place. Yet in his mind, he found no clear answer.

"Well.. I dunno. But.. I'm sure there's an answer around here somewhere. We just gotta find it.." John would grumble, placing his hands on his hips and still glancing around the place as if to search for an answer. The group went silent for a moment. But then.. Robert observed the sign that was beside him, and read the following words which were printed on it. Robert widened his eyes as he read the words, and he then looked back over to his still thinking uncle.

"Hey, uncle! Come take a look at this!" Robert would say, gesturing over to the sign with his hand. John turned around, raising his brow curiously as if to wonder what he was talking about. John began to walk over to the sign, as if to read whatever had been on there that had been so important. As he finished walking and stood before the sign, he bent down to read it.

The sign had read: "There is just one switch."

"It.. says there's only one switch." Robert gestured with his hands, a little puzzled. Though of course, Robert had an idea in the back of his mind as to what it had meant. After all, he was not stupid. He knew that the sign must have meant that one of the switches had been inside of the patches. But.. he did not wish to speak aloud and ruin his uncles entire thing.

John grumbled. "Hmmm.." He then stood back up, dusting himself off even though there was nothing on him. He mumbled behind his mustache, "Well, from what I can tell, folks.. one of the switches must be in the patches. There ain't no switch in here after all.."

"Wait.. then.. are you just gonna go ahead and fall into each of the patches until you find one of them?" Susie inquired, raising a brow as if worried with the current situation. Pump only looked up at his sister with his big, shimmering, innocent eyes. He hadn't any clue as to what was going on.

John walked back over to Jack, and said, "By the looks of it, probably. But.. that would be the longer route." Jack glanced over at his partner, and then suggested with a gesture of his hand, "Do.. you just want us both to investigate it? It might be a little bit faster that way.."

"I dunno. Hmmm.. how about this?" John spoke, "We can both investigate the patches ourselves until one of us finds a switch. Or.." He looked over to the group, "..we can have a few adult volunteers who might be interested in investigatin' the patches with us. It might take less longer that way.."

The adults in the group hesitated, as if a little afraid of the idea(specifically Kevin). What were they to say to such a suggestion?

"Are.. are you sure? That would mean only one of us would be looking after the kids.. a monster might come by!" Lila spoke. "Yes.. that could happen. But.. if we do end up going on this route, I don't think we'll take too long. Whoever finds the switch will probably be able to get out immediately, and then the spikes will go down. But that probably depends on if a monster is down in the patch where the switch is.." John replied, putting a hand under his chin as if still uncertain.

The group went silent for a moment.

"Well.. what's it gonna be, folks? I'm not forcin' ya to do anything." John gestured with his hands, mumbling behind his mustache. He truly was not forcing him. He was only suggesting what would take faster, and what would involve less possible monster fights. He did not mean to come across as forceful.

The adults in the group only looked at eachother.

////////////////////

Sorry for the short chapter again. A little tired today.

#spooky month #read the tws #spooky month au #kevin spooky month #skid and pump #skid spooky month #pump and skid #pump spooky month #streber spooky month #john spooky month #jack spooky month #lila spooky month #jaune spooky month #hatzgang spooky month #ethan spooky month #susie spooky month #spookytale #undertale

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fruit-teeth · 5 months

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Chronicles of Love and War (chapter 31)

Breathe in, breathe out.

Olivia didn't care that her breath felt far too heated to stay hidden under the heavy duvet that she had been given in an attempt to settle down. Her best friend had vanished, her family was scattered around who-knows-where, and she was at a loss for what to think at this moment. Pressing her cheek against the couch cushion, she listened to Bidwell and Saxton Hale's quiet conversation on what should come next from the other room.

Suddenly: the door to the house swung open.

Olivia went still, until she heard her mother’s voice. “Olivia? Hale? Bidwell? Is anyone in here?”

Olivia sat up and threw off the quilt, bolting to the front door of the cottage. “I’m here!”

She ran to where Helen stood, throwing her arms around her legs. Helen quickly bent down, scooping her daughter up into her arms and hugging her tightly.

“Mommy, Lucy–!” Olivia started to say, but Helen shushed her.

“I know, I know,” Helen spoke gently, brushing her daughter’s cheek with the back of her hand. “Lucy is all right. The others are figuring things out,”

Just then, Saxton walked into the front foyer to greet Helen. “Is everything all right?”

“No,” Helen said rather plainly. “Teufort has been…well, its been wrecked. And, according to Miss Pauling, the demon was headed for our headquarters.”

Saxton’s eyes widened. “What? Why would that be?”

The smell of the familiar perfume tugged at Helen’s mind, but she pushed it away. “It’s hard to say. But it’s been momentarily held off. We now know that...It feels unbelievable, but these creatures can be vanquished by light magic of some kind.” She inhaled deeply once more. “The mercenaries have gone to find a group of…beings that possess this light magic.”

“Light magic?” Saxton repeated, and thought for a moment. “Actually…I might have something that could help?”

Helen looked puzzled. “What? How could you possibly have something like that?”

Saxton gestured for her to follow, turning to walk into one of the bedrooms. Helen followed him, still carrying Olivia in her arms.

Saxton went into the bedroom, reached for a dresser drawer, pulled it open, and looked around. After a moment, he pulled out a long, wooden box. Gently, he opened it, revealing a spiral, bone-like object wrapped in tissue paper.

Helen stared at the object, before asking, “What am I looking at?”

“Unicorn horn,” Saxton replied simply.

Helen looked back up at him, alarmed. “What!? How on earth did you…” she shook herself. “Doesn’t matter. Does it work?”

“I have no idea,” Saxton admitted. “I’ve never tried to use it for anything. My hope is that your wizard companion would know how to use it. Do you know where I can find him?”

“He’s battling the demon,” Helen reached into the box and gingerly removed the horn, running her thumb over it. “Interesting…there must be a way to unlock whatever powers this has.”

“I don’t know what it would be,” Saxton explained. “I’ve tried for a while to figure out how to use it, but it never does anything.”

Olivia looked at the horn, and she gently reached out to touch it as well. She recoiled in surprise when, as she did, a little flash of light emerged between the pad of her finger and the horn. “Oh!”

Helen noticed, and she asked, “Olivia? What did you just do?”

“I don’t know…” Olivia looked back at the horn, before touching it again. This time, she kept her hand there, and the horn began to glow.

Saxton watched in amazement. “It’s never done that before…not for me, anyway! What does it mean?”

“I don’t know, but,” Helen carefully took the horn from Olivia placed it back into the wooden box. “I have a feeling we need to keep this with us from now on.”

At the same time, Demoman was wondering what he’d just gotten himself into. Nothing felt real as he trudged along the forest floor, his hand gripping Lucy’s tightly.

Lucy was sobbing, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to…I didn’t…” she whimpered, shoulders shaking.

Demo stopped, his heart aching. “Lass…it wasn’t your fault.”

“It was! I-I dunno why I…” Lucy roughly wiped her eyes with her wrist. “I just wanna be good…why can’t I be good?”

Demo watched her as she wept, and a wave of pain flowed over him. Her tears reminded him of ones he once cried, many years ago...

He didn’t have time to think about that, though. A twig snapped further away, and he quickly scooped up Lucy into his arms, looking over his shoulder.

Fortunately, it wasn't the Corrupt, but what he saw still perplexed him: Tilly walked toward him through the woods, sweeping twigs away with her cane.

“Mum?” Demo asked, squinting at her, bewildered. “What are you doing!? How did you…?”

“Your little friends said I would find you here,” Tilly grunted, approaching him. “I told you this would happen!”

“What?” Demo’s mind reeled, trying to think over the most recent interactions he’d had with her. “When…when’d you say that?”

Tilly stopped just before Demo, tilting her head up towards him. “I knew these bloody demons were bad news, and that dream I had when we first got here…it had to be a vision!”

“Vision?” Lucy mumbled, lifting her tear-stained face from Demo’s shoulder.

Tilly paused, turning her head in Lucy’s direction. “Huh? Lad, who’s with you?”

“Lucy, Merasmus’s girl,” Demo affirmed. “You met her, you know her. I’m keepin’ her safe,”

Tilly took this in for a moment, saying nothing. Finally, she said, “Put that little lass somewhere safe — somewhere they won’t get her,”

“That’s what I’m trying to do, but there’s bloody nothing!” Demo explained breathlessly. “I’m ‘bout to put her in a hollowed-out tree, but…” he trailed off, turning his head and spotting something in the distance. His heart leaped in his chest, and he exclaimed, “An old church, over there!”

Demo, Tilly, and Lucy ran to the church, which was abandoned and mostly destroyed but still safe. Upon opening the doors, the smell of dust was overpowering, but that didn’t stop the three from entering.

Demo entered first, looking around the sanctuary, eye scanning for a clean place. When he found a little area behind one of the church pews, he bent down to remove dust and old trash.

As Lucy tried to dry her eyes, Demo took his jacket off and laid it on the floor. “Here, lass, lay down back here. We’ll take care of you, don’t worry,”

Lucy climbed onto the jacket, still shaking, but she soon relaxed. Demo sat on the floor next to her, placing his hand on her shoulder to reassure her. The excitement and fear of the day caused Lucy's eyelids to close quickly, and eventually her breathing became even, indicating that she had fallen asleep.

Demo pulled his hand off of her once he realized she’d drifted off, and he turned to look at Tilly. “Those demons are bound to come back, but…she’ll be okay for now,”

Tilly lowered herself down onto one of the pews, hands coming to sit on her lap. She looked up at the ceiling, clearly mulling over something, but said nothing.

A silence passed between them, before Demo remarked, “All of this…it reminded me of something,”

“Hm?” Tilly prompted, though she didn’t turn her head in his direction.

Demo sighed. “It reminded me of…when I was a lad, the day I…”

“The day you blew up your other parents?” Tilly finished for him, rather bluntly.

Hearing her say it made a chill shoot down him. They hadn’t spoken about this in…Tavish didn’t even know how long. His memory was always shaky, but not so bad that he could forget accidentally murdering his adoptive parents as a child.

“Aye…yes,” he managed to say after a moment.

“I imagine,” Tilly brought up her hand to scratch at her ear, turning her head in the direction of Tavish’s voice. “But no point in bringing it up. It’s in the past, more important things to worry about,”

Demo closed his eye for a moment, drawing in a long breath. “Mum,” he said after a moment. “That’s what you always say whenever I talk about anything from when I was young.”

“In the past,” Tilly repeated, her tone of voice unchanging.

“Just because it was in the past doesn’t mean it stopped being important,” Demo informed her. He didn’t enjoy arguing with her, so he always did his best to avoid it. Even now, though, he wasn’t raising his voice. Not only did he not want to wake Lucy, he didn’t want to get too confrontational with his mother.

“Aye?” Tilly raised her eyebrows at him. “Well, that’s the purpose. It's good to use the pain from the past as fuel, you understand? We talked about this, you and I – your Da said this, this is nothing new, Tavish. You use those things in the past to help you be who you are now, that’s the purpose of every Demolition Man,”

“I know!” Demo snapped, perhaps a bit more forcefully than he’d meant to. “But…what if its just…bad sometimes? What if you go through something, and it doesn’t help you grow, or find your purpose – what if it’s just bad? Do you know what I’m saying?”

A shadow seemed to cross Tilly’s face. “You know nothing about what I’ve been through, boy.”

“I didn’t…” Tavish recoiled slightly. “I didn’t mean you, specifically, Mum. I know you lost your brother, but…”

“I didn’t lose him,” Tilly turned her head to focus on the ground for a moment, although she could not see it. “He was taken from me – stolen, by demons just like the ones who are after us,”

Demo paused, taking this in. Finally, he asked, “Is that…is that why you’ve been so concerned about this?” When Tilly did not answer right away, Tavish prompted her again. “Did The Corrupt take Uncle Hamish, Mum?”

He’d always heard that Hamish died, but he did not know what exactly had happened. Those on his mother's side of the family had always talked about it in whispers, but he never got the full story from them. Now, though, that seemed as if that were about to change.

Tilly hesitated, silently at war with whether or not to tell the story. Finally, she realized she had no choice, and she began: “I used to be different. I was a dumb girl once, but Hamish…was different. A hard worker and everyone loved him. As for me, well…they thought I was a bit silly,”

Mathilda, at the age of thirteen, was completely different from Tilly, the woman she would eventually become. She spent the majority of her time in the fields, reading antique fairy tale novels with her two good eyes and fantasizing about a life as a princess. When her mother called on her to come inside, she would frequently pretend not to hear her, allowing her to spend a few more seconds in that dreamlike zone before being pulled back into reality.

"I am here!" Mathilda said hurriedly, rushing inside the house clutching her book in one hand.

Her mother, Rebecca, was in another one of her moods. Tilly could always tell when her mother was in a bad mood, as she would exhale loudly through her nose. That particular breathy sound was enough to strike a flame of anxiety into her.

“Tilly,” Rebecca began, arms crossed as she leaned against the wall of their rustic kitchen. “Lord Dink says you were supposed to help weed his garden earlier, but you never showed up. Is this true, lass?”

Tilly shrunk slightly, curls falling from her tied-back hair and into her face. After a while, she said, "Maybe," and then, hearing that deep, breathy sound once more, she blurted, "I forgot, Mum, honest! W-when you asked me, I was thinking of other things – !”

“You’re always thinking of other things!” Rebecca scolded. “My bloody word, how on earth are ye ever going to do anything in life with your head in the clouds?”

Tilly’s eyes lowered to the floor, and she desperately blinked back tears. Rebecca watched her for a moment, before sighing. “Listen: some nuns from the convent up north need some assistance with their services and some repair work done, and Hamish agreed to help them. You want to make yourself useful and stop daydreaming? Go find him and tell him to bring you along!”

Tilly reluctantly placed her book on the kitchen counter and opened the wooden door to the outside, headed to the shed where her brother normally prepared for work runs. During difficult times, she enjoyed daydreaming about herself as Cinderella, her mother as the wicked stepmother, or Rapunzel being held hostage by the witch. It made her feel slightly guilty to think of her mother in such positions, because Rebecca wasn't always so harsh. It was only when her children were, in her mind, being foolish, that she needed to put her foot down.

The door to the shed was wide open when Tilly entered. Hamish was in there, loading up his wagon with some of his things, when he noticed his sister in the doorway.

“Tilly!” he greeted, a smile crossing his young face. At only seventeen, he had the beginnings of a beard, but his eyes and smile still had a boyish youthfulness to them. “What do you need?”

“Mum said I should come with you,” Tilly explained, digging the toe of her shoe into the shed’s wood floor.

Hamish’s smile faltered. “Missed another job, aye?” when she nodded, he sighed. “Well, all right, come along. I’m sure the nuns will pay you too, I’ll make sure to ask,”

Tilly nodded again, and she stepped forward to look through the items he was loading in his wagon. “What’s all this for?”

“The nuns are doing…” he searched for the right word. “Some religion service. I don’t know, I didn’t ask. All I know is they need help.” He grabbed the handle to the wagon and pulled it out of the shed, beckoning Tilly to follow him. “Afterwards, we’ll go to the bakery and get some of those sweet rolls!”

“Oh, good!” Tilly exclaimed, bounding up to walk alongside him. She loved those sweet rolls, they were her favorite treat, especially after a day’s work.

After a long hike, the siblings arrived at the mountain where the convent was located. Upon arrival, Hamish knocked on the door, his other hand still clutching the handle of his wagon.

The door soon opened, revealing an older woman with pale skin and blue eyes. Her appearance surprised Tilly at first; the woman's eyelashes were a reddish blonde tint, but they were so thin that it appeared she had no eyelashes at all.

“You must be Hamish,” the woman spoke in a low voice, opening the door all the way. “You brought a friend with you, I see,”

“This is my sister,” Hamish introduced, gesturing to Tilly.

The nun looked her up adn down, her eyes so icy they nearly made Tilly shiver. After a moment, the nun opened the door wider and let both siblings inside. “Well, make yourselves useful. We haven’t got all day.”

Tilly followed Hamish into the building, which was large, ancient and ornate. The sunshine coming in through the stained glass windows lit everything, while there was obviously another source of light for the nighttime—candles, hanging in swings on the ceiling.

“Begin by cleaning the altar over there,” the nun commanded, pointing to the altar at the front of the room. It was a large, thick slab of stone covered in a cloth. “Afterwards, we need you to fix the woodstove in the kitchen.”

"Good enough," Hamish grumbled, removing the tarp from his wagon and retrieving his cleaning goods.

“Oh, and one more thing,” the nun added. “Once you are done in here, a service will begin. We request that you stay out of the way while this happens and instead just focus on fixing the wood stove. We will fetch you once we are done with the service.”

Something about the way she said that struck Tilly as odd. Everything about this place was odd — although Tilly couldn’t put her finger on why.

Hamish, however, didn’t seem too concerned. “Aye, ma’am. By the way, what should I call you?”

“You may call me Sister White,” the nun replied, turning to leave the sanctuary. “I will return for you shortly, work quickly.”

As soon as the nun was gone, Hamish pulled out a glass bottle of cleaning liquid and poured it onto a rag. “You want to help with this?”

“Aye,” Tilly agreed, taking the liquid-soaked rag and beginning to wipe the altar with it.

“Oh, careful,” Hamish leaned over her shoulder to watch her. “This stuff is pretty potent, if ye breathe it in too much, you could get sick!”

Tilly hummed in agreement, pulling the collar of her dress up to cover her mouth and nose. Once the altar had been wiped down, Hamish went in with a finishing powder.

“Something’s wrong with this place,” Tilly blurted out suddenly.

Hamish paused, looking at her in alarm. “Huh? What makes you say that?”

“It feels…weird!” Tilly couldn’t seem to find a better word to explain her feelings. “It’s creepy!”

Hamish sighed. “That’s just because it’s old. This place is ancient, it’s bound to feel a little creepy! Once you’ve been on lots of jobs like I have, this won’t even phase you.”

Sister White and the other sisters returned to the sanctuary as soon as the altar had been cleaned, powdered, and covered with a fresh cloth to begin the service. Just as they had agreed to, Hamish and Tilly moved to the kitchen in order to prepare the wood stove.

Tilly stood by, watching as Hamish knelt next to the woodstove and looked it over. When he began to work on it with one of his tools, Tilly asked, “Do I need to do anything?”

“Um…hm…” Hamish paused his work, sitting back in thought. “I don’t think so. Unless you’re good with a screwdriver,”

Tilly wrinkled her nose. “Not really.”

Hamish laughed a little. “You can relax for a while, then. Walk around the building…count the windows, whatever you want. Just stay out of the sanctuary, like the nuns said.”

Excitement flowed through Tilly, but she held herself back. “What if mum finds out…?”

Hamish waved her off. “Ach, who cares? She doesn’t need to know! Go play,” with that, he leaned beside the woodstove and went about fixing it. Grinning, Tilly wandered out of the kitchen, content to go explore.

That would be the last time she felt freedom like that.

While exploring the convent's hallways and admiring the artwork hanging on the walls, Tilly heard muffled chanting emanating from the sanctuary. She paused, listening intently, and curiosity got the better of her. She knew the nuns said to not bother their service, but she was sure it wouldn’t matter if she peeked a little bit.

Tilly moved back to the sanctuary doors, checking to make sure she was alone before opening one slightly. She peered inside, expecting to witness a usual religious service, but what she saw made her pause: the nuns stood in a circle, offering a warbling chant as Sister White placed a variety of goods in the center. Tilly couldn't make out what they were chanting, but when she heard the name 'Lucifer', she had a terrifying realization: these nuns weren't ordinary nuns; they practiced demonic arts. She'd heard about similar groups before, but she never imagined seeing one in person, let alone in a convent.

Tilly's initial thought before everything went wrong was that she needed to go warn Hamish, then notify their mother, so they would never have to return here. When she saw a flash of orange light in the sanctuary, those thoughts vanished.

A gust of wind blew from the center of the nuns’ circle and blasted the doors wide open, knocking Tilly flat on her back. The air around her was abruptly musty and steamy, causing her to cough. When she managed to stand again, she peered back into the sanctuary. The nuns were screaming, and jittery, gray figures ran amuck in the room, overturning chairs and crawling up walls.

“You idiots!” Sister White screamed at the other women. “Do something, get out the gold and get them back under control!”

“This was a mistake!” A nun next to her wailed, but she pulled out a golden compass and swung it to try and get the attention of the creatures. They noticed, and grunting, they crawled towards the compass.

Her heart racing, Tilly turned around and tried to run down the hallway. She got a few feet when, suddenly, something grabbed her by the ankle and pulled her to the ground.

Tilly let out a high-pitched cry as her body collided with the building's carpeted hallway, kicking at whatever had seized her. She tried to glance up, but tears clouded her eyes, and all she saw above her was a dark, towering form.

She could have sworn she heard it say, “Oh, poor thing,” before reaching down towards her. All of a sudden, a huge frying pan came flying, clocking the creature in the face. It let out a sharp cry of rage, and Tilly felt herself being yanked up by the arm.

“Come on!” Hamish shouted, running towards the exit with his sister. He opened the door at the end of the hall for her, shoving her out. “Run, run home!”

Tilly whirled around, her heart pounding wildly as she looked at her brother. “Come with me! Please!”

“I will!” Hamish assured her breathily. “Just go home and—!”

What happened next was a blur. There was a crash, yelling, and the door to the outside slammed shut quickly, leaving Tilly alone outside. She grabbed the handle and tugged on it, panic filling her veins when she couldn’t open it. She cried out her brother’s name, over and over, though somehow the voice didn’t sound like her own. She ran around to the other nearest door of the building, pulling on that one until it opened. This door led to the pantry, and after passing shelves of canned foods and flour, she stumbled into the kitchen. She dashed through the kitchen and into the sanctuary, dashing through the open oak doors and sliding to a halt just before the altar that she and Hamish had recently cleaned.

Nothing. Everything was eerily silent, and there was no sign of Hamish.

The nuns all stood by a smoking, circular mark on the sanctuary floor, saying nothing. Finally, Sister White spoke up.

“Idiots!” She exclaimed. “What kind of demon was that!?”

“It wasn’t one, but multiple!” Another nun piped up, as if that was helpful.

”An occultist I met said this demon was one of the most dangerous ones,” a different nun said, her voice shaking. “But I couldn’t imagine it would be so hard to control…”

“You’re lucky it was easy to banish!” Sister White barked. “Otherwise you’d get a damn good beating!”

“Where’s my brother?” Tilly spoke up sharply, her voice cracking.

The nuns froze and looked towards Tilly, all going silent. Finally, one of them said, “He’s not here. I’m sorry.”

“Where is he!?” Tilly demanded louder, stumbling over to Sister White and grabbing her robe.

Sister White pried Tilly’s fingers away. “The demon took him. He’s part of it, now, and he got sent to its realm when we banished it,”

“What!?” Tilly’s heart pounded, reaching for Sister White again, but she stepped away. “Open that thing back up and get him back!”

”We can’t!” Sister White barked. “And there would be no way to get him back, it’s too powerful!”

Tilly was sobbing so much she could barely breathe. She fell to her knees, wailing out, “Why!? Why wouldn’t you stop it!? Why did you bring it here!?”

”You stop that crying and stand up!” Sister White grabbed Tilly by the wrist, pulling her up to her feet. “Collect your brother’s things and go! I will have no more of this!”

Tilly felt herself shaking, and all she could think about was her mother. “Mum will kill you,” she managed to say, voice rough.

Sister White scoffed, letting go of Tilly’s wrist and giving a dismissive gesture. “What do I care? If you tell your family, we will put a curse on your bloodline! So it’s best you don’t tell anyone what happened here…now get your brother’s things and don’t set foot in here again!”

The intense grief Tilly felt gradually became replaced by a feeling of numbness. After leaving the sanctuary, she went to the kitchen to retrieve her brother's wagon, which still had all of his equipment. The nuns said nothing to her — not a word of comfort, not an apology, nothing.

As Tilly left the building, her mind kept replaying what happened. If she had stayed with Hamish, maybe helped him instead of going off to play and daydream, none of this would have happened. Her silly nature, her refusal to work, her need for her brother to save her…the guilt consumed her like acid. She fell to her knees in the grass, letting the wagon’s handle drop to the ground as she began to sob loudly.

The pain and heartbreak soon turned into anger. She had never felt such intense, bitter fury before, and when she sat up and collected herself, her gaze fell upon the supply wagon.

Hands trembling, she picked up a variety of chemicals and examined them, realizing that if she mixed them, she could create an explosive. In that moment, she knew what she had to do, and her destiny was sealed.

An hour later, she returned to the convent and opened the pantry door, holding something in her other hand.

She made her way to the sanctuary and stood in the center, placing the object directly onto the altar. She briskly turned around and walked back to the door, opening it and stepping out.

Sister White heard the footsteps, and she looked out into the hallway just in time to see Tilly leaving.

“What are you doing back here!?” She barked, rushing towards the girl. When the door closed, she tried to open it in an attempt to pursue Tilly. Yet she never got the chance to.

It wasn’t a big explosion at all, but it was enough. Sister White was there in the adjoining hallway when the bomb hit, sending the elaborate stained glass flying and smashing the sanctuary. Tilly was not spared, as the force blew her back and sent her falling on her back. When she eventually managed to sit up, she felt a searing agony in her left eye and was unable to open or see out of it. She would find out later that a piece of glass had flown into her eye and damaged it beyond repair, but in this moment, that was not a tragedy to her.

Tilly made the long trek back home, dragging the wagon behind her. By the time she stumbled inside the house, Rebecca was wiping down the table with a rag.

Rebecca froze, seeing Tilly standing in the doorway, eye bloodied and without Hamish.

“…Mathilda?” She asked, worry creeping into her voice.

Tilly just stared at her mother, tears rolling down her face, mixing with the blood and ash. “They took Hamish, Mum,” she said finally. “But I got back at them.”

Shortly after this, Tilly immersed herself in the world of demolition, eventually meeting the man who would become her husband. Now, presently, her son stared at her as she finished her story. Though she no longer had working eyes to see him with, she could imagine the shock etched on his face.

“My god,” Tavish managed to say, filled with nothing but bewilderment. “Mum, I…how…why did you never…!?”

”Because,” Tilly took a long breath. “It was my own laziness that led to me losing him. If I hadn’t wandered off…”

Tavish stopped her. “Mum, no. He wanted you to have fun. He didn’t want you to waste your childhood working like he did, he wanted you to enjoy yourself! Know why? Because you were a child! This wasn’t your fault,”

Internally, he wished she had been the one to say something like this to him. Knowing what had transpired and who his grandma Rebecca was, Tilly's personality made sense. It didn’t make his own childhood hurt less, but it made sense.

Tilly tilted her head downwards, as if focusing on the ground. She managed to say after a moment, “Doesn’t matter. I can’t get him back.”

Tavish remembered Sniper telling him that one of the Corrupted Ones was his own grandmother, and that instant, he saw a light in the darkness.

“You might be able to,” he said, his voice low.

Tilly lifted her head up, brow furrowed. “Eh?”

Outside, they could hear shrieks, and they knew the Corrupt was on the move again.

#tf2 #tf2 fanfiction #HERE WE GOOOO #tf2 olivia mann #tf2 administrator #tf2 saxton hale #tf2 demoman #tf2 demos mum #idk what tag to use for her #tf2 oc #my writing

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sweetgazes · 3 years

Text

started with a whisper

camilo madrigal x reader

word count: 1.0k

DNI if you are 18+!!!

summary: camilo should’ve known that keeping a relationship hidden from his family would’ve been a bad idea, especially when he has a sister who can hear everything.

These are the moment’s Camilo looks forward to. The moments when the two of you can just walk around town, not having to worry about his family possibly being around—basing it off of how he has yet to see them around.

Camilo takes full advantage of these times, when he doesn’t have to keep a lookout for if any of his family, risking them finding out about the secret relationship the two of you have.

Or so he had thought.

While you were talking about all the things that had happened in your day yesterday, Camilo and you had made a turn, and immediately what you were saying was cut off by Camilo shifting into a random person in town and pulling you off into an alleyway.

“What was that—” you began to ask, but couldn’t finish by Camilo shifting back into himself and shushing you.

Raising your brow at his antics, you give him a confused look. This was an occurrence that hasn’t happened before, an occurrence where you’re being pulled into a empty passageway.

So out of curiosity you move to glance around the alley to see what or who Camilo is trying to hide from.

Though the moment you began to move to look you are instantly pulled back.

Looking over at Camilo exasperatedly you question him. “Okay, what’s up with—“ once again you were being shushed by the boy in front of you.

Annoyance is painted all over your features as Camilo began to whisper. “Just—don’t look around the corner.”

Brows shooting up, you tilt your head to the side, still confused as to what is going on. “What, why? And why are we whispering?” You asked as Camilo took a glance around the side of the alley.

Once Camilo had gone back to standing in front of you does he answer. “Dolores and Mirabel are out there.”

A small ‘oh’ falls from your lips as you nod, finally understanding why he had quickly pulled you in here.

“Do you think they saw us walking around?” You asked, still whispering.

Camilo shrugged before replying. “Possibly.”

“Wait,” you began still keeping your voice to a whisper, grabbing Camilo’s attention once again. “If they did see us, wouldn’t hiding make it obvious that we’re hiding something.”

“Possibly,” he gave you the same answer, while you give him a blank look. “It was a quick in the moment decision, mi amor.” Camilo backtracked when he noticed the look he was being given.

“You know how we could’ve avoided this whole situation?” You questioned, and Camilo hummed, signaling you to continue. “If we didn’t keep this a secret.” You stated, motioning between the two do you.

“Too late now,” your boyfriend shrugged, taking another glance around the corner.

“Maybe this is our sign,” you continued off of what you were saying. “Our sign to finally tell your family so we don’t have to hide in alleyways to avoid being seen walking around town.”

Looking over at you, Camilo rolled his eyes playfully, coming to stand next to you. “You’re not gonna let this go?”

“Just saying,” you stated giving him a small smile.

“Yeah, yeah.” Camilo waved off what you had said, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. “Come on, I don’t see them anymore.” Grabbing your hand the two of you finally leave the passageway.

Though that little kiss on the cheek just confirmed suspicions for a certain Madrigal.

Dolores obviously knew something was up with her brother, due to the fact of how she took note about how she barely saw him around town anymore.

She had her suspicions, and taking a walk around with Mirabel today just confirmed them.

When Dolores had heard whispering she just thought it was another string of gossip being passed around. Well, she thought that until she took note of how the one whispering was her brother.

Immediately she had began to pull her cousin toward the hushed voices, ignoring the girls questions and protests.

As they got closer did Dolores finally began to slow down, letting go of Mirabel’s hand in the process.

“Are you going to tell what that was for?” Mirabel questioned, placing a hand on her hip as Dolores turned to look at her.

“I heard Camilo whispering to someone back there, and I have no idea who they are. So now we’re here trying to figure it out.” Dolores quickly explained before turning back and walking in the direction she was heading in.

Finally understanding what is going on a grin formed on Mirabel’s lips, the girl quickly slipped through the people in town to catch up to her cousin.

Though the moment Mirabel caught up to her and goes to say something she is once being dragged away from her position by Dolores.

“Why—” She can barely get the word out before Dolores is quickly telling her the reason why she was so quick to pull Mirabel away.

“Camilo is in a relationship.” Dolores rushed out, and it takes Mirabel a moment to process what she had said before her jaw is dropping.

“What?” She asked, surprised that Camilo has kept this a secret.

“Yep,” Dolores said, equally as surprised as to why her brother would keep something like this a secret. Then again the girl is also curious how she didn’t find out sooner.

There’s a pause for a moment until Mirabel speaks up. “So . . . now what?”

Titling her head to the side, Dolores looked towards Mirabel confused. “What do you mean?”

“What do we do with this information?” Mirabel sighed and Dolores shrugged as an answer.

“Nothing,” she suggested, moving to continue walking around like they had been doing before.

“But this is such good teasing material,” Mirabel stated walking a bit quicker than Dolores so she could walk in front of her to talk to her.

Dolores grinned at the girl. “I may have said ‘nothing’ but I never said that we couldn’t pester him about it.”

“Good point because who knows how long he’s been in a relationship,” Mirabel exclaimed, already thinking of way to pester her primo about his newfound relationship.

authors note: hi! this was a really random idea that had come to mind and i decided to write it lol. i hope it’s decent AND please let me know if i used any of the spanish in here wrong! i hope you all have an amazing day/night!!

#camilo madrigal #camilo madrigal x reader #camilo x reader #disney encanto #encanto #encanto x reader #madrigal family #the madrigals #camilo my beloved #dolores madrigal #mirabel madrigal

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iyumeu · 3 years

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What are the demon brothers really, especially good at when it comes to their obsession/possessive nature over their darling? Like, who’s really good at setting up an escape proof room, who’s the best at gaslighting their darling to hell and back, who’s got the most roofies they can slip into drinks and food so they can cuddle a sleepy darling. I hope any of this makes sense…

I'd like to think that in an ideal horrible world, they would realize that they all have to work together to keep MC with them, so as you've said each of them would be good at different things.

Lucifer would definitely 100% be the one to set up an escape proof room. In fact, I'm in the midst of writing a sequel to spirit guardian and in it Lucifer traps you in a special room he's prepared for you. From one of the in-game chats it's mentioned that Lucifer is the possessive type while Diavolo is the stalker type and Barbatos is... well-adjusted?! and with his tendency to prepare in advance, he'd be done with a specialized, well-hidden room even before anyone else had the idea of making you stay with them, permanently.

After all, didn't he keep Belphegor, one of the strongest demons in hell, up in the attic with little to no trouble? His enchantments are top notch; say hello to your new attic room, MC. Don't worry, it's comfortable and people can still visit you, and it's decorated almost the same as your kitchen room! And, if you're good, you might get let out!

Asmodeus would be good at charming and gaslighting to make things seem like they aren't as bad as they are. At first he seems like he's listening to you, as you scream and shout, he really does look like he's empathizing! And then once you're tired, he'd hold you and shush you and say, yes, Lucifer really is too much, yes, how could his brothers just lock you up like this, yes, you deserve to go out, he'll take you for a walk tomorrow! He'll ask Lucifer for permission, and Lucifer's bound to say yes especially if he realizes how sad you are! He's just a little frustrated now, you know that the Devildom is a dangerous place and we don't want you to get hurt! We only want you to be safe, you know that right? We love you, so we just want the best for you. I'm sure you can understand that! Can't you? So just stay in this room, alright? We're doing this for you, after all.

Leviathan's pretty good at guilt-tripping you as well. He just throws a big pity fest and you'll just rush to try and placate him, telling him no, he's not trash, you don't hate him. And he'll ask you if it's something he did, that made you want to leave them all so badly? Or if it's something they did in general. They can change, please, as long as you stay. MC, they can't live without you. MC, what are they going to do when you're gone? They can barely function without you. Besides, did people in the human world even realize that you were gone? They didn't even leave one message for you (didn't get a chance to, all communications were removed before they could even send anything), but the demon brothers would! They think about you every single day, the human world doesn't know what they have, they don't appreciate you, they don't care about you, but we do, MC. We're the only ones who care about you.

Apart from that he also installs cameras all over the House of Lamentations, especially near the exits and in your room, as well as bug your phone. He'll always be watching your every move, oftentimes even forgoing anime to just stare at you through the screen hours on end.

Satan is in charge of security. It's a responsibility he shares with Lucifer and he hates it, but he understands the importance of it. It's essential that no one can get into the house and, more importantly, that you can't get out. He has everything from tracking to sedation spells on you, ready to be activated at a moment's notice. He also took the liberty to enter the human world to track down everyone who ever knew you, private investigator style, and erase their memory of your existence. It's a subtle erase, too, like you're aware that the person exists, but they don't seem to be very important to you. You have better things to do than think about them. Once he's managed to manipulate the memories of everyone, then maybe you'll be allowed a little trip to the human world... just for you to see that the only place you truly belong is with them.

Beelzebub is the one in charge of physically restraining you if you ever get strange ideas in your head. You thought that he was a softie, that he would be the one you could break through to, to let you go, but he and his family were united in this particular decision to keep you by their side. You were, after all, a lot safer here in the Devildom than you were in the human world. What if you fell ill? Or someone attacked you? They wouldn't be able to reach you in time! Beel wouldn't be able to reach you in time, and he doesn't think he would be able to live with himself if he lost another person he loved. His family wouldn't be able to take it either. So he is quiet even though you scream and thrash in his grip, thrown over his shoulder, mouth gagged so that you were unable to command anyone to let you go. Your resistance hurts, but he knew it would be worth it in the end, and soon you'll realize that too.

Belphegor was another person you thought you could negotiate with, having been trapped in the attic himself. However, like Beelzebub, you could not be further from the truth. After millenniums of hurt and hatred, here you were, a ray of light into their world, a little piece of heaven just for them. He'd be damned he he were to let you go. You made Beel happy too, so you really were a fool to think that you could have convinced him otherwise.

He was in charge of dreams. The sleeping mind is malleable to suggestion and your dreams are no different. Most of the time he'll give you nice dreams. Warm memories from the past to remind you why you should stay, digging into your fantasies to play them out (the ones that involve the Devildom anyway) to give you incentive to stick around, and sometimes even raunchy dreams to ease you into the future... But sometimes he would give nightmares and all of the nightmares have one thing in common: they begin with you successfully running away from them. Different things will go wrong in your nightmare, from your family members not recognizing you or caring about you and being painfully alone, to being murdered or being kidnapped. All he needed to do was to plant a seed in your mind, that would take root and sprout...

Mammon was the last one to be on board with this plan. To the very end he still cared about your well-being above all else and when he realized that his brothers were never going to let you go, he stopped bargaining for your freedom. In the end, he was still selfish enough to want you to stay with him and, well, it's not like you'd be able to hide from his brothers anyway. So why not just give in and make life easier for yourself? And somehow, he would be the one to break you, even if he doesn't know it. His nonchalant attitude to the whole thing... He had been on your side at first but then he just... gave up?

He'd end up as another gaslighter, telling himself that he was doing it out of good intentions just like the rest of them. He would try to convince you to take it easy, take one day at a time. If you were good, then Lucifer would tell the brothers to give you more freedom! No one knew Lucifer's bottom line like Mammon, so just listen and do as he says! Life doesn't have to be miserable, it's all up to you!

Days pass, and then years... and you realize that you aren't aging. In a manner similar to Solomon, your pacts were keeping you alive and immortal. You would not die.

And, at the very end of the line, all you would have left would be those demon brothers you once called friends.

#obey me #obey me x reader #yandere obey me #ask #anon #iyumeu asks #lucifer x reader #beelzebub x reader #asmodeus x reader #satan x reader #leviathan x reader #mammon x reader

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