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#but only silver is reincarnated
lobster-risotto · 9 months
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Silverflint AU where Silver is a 28 year old who inherited a home from his great grandfather on the coast of Florida in a tourist town based in 1700s piracy (apparently their port is meant specifically to travel to and from historic Nassau for tourists) with all utilites paid for for the next four years. He never knew the man, not really, and surely felt confused as to why he had earned a home from him. However, he needs a home after having just completed his culinary degree.
He moves in, terrified of the change but eager for the free house, and the town seems nice enough, though full of people from places that are definitely not Florida.
Silver barely notices at first, the way his things don't quite stay where they put them. The way his hair stands up or the room gets strangley cold. Eventually, though, its starts to really bother him. And that's when the shadow starts showing up. That's when the dreams start, and they make little sense. That's when the smell of seawater gets almost sickening at times, and he swears he can smell gunpowder in his bed when he wakes up. However, Silver does not believe in ghosts. It must be all the change, he convinces himself.
At some point, the shadow stops being a shadow, and it's a person. In the corner of his eyes, just for a moment, he swears someone is standing next to him, or sitting at the dining table, always looking at him.
Then whispers come through. It sounds like someone calling to him. He can never tell, and it must just be his imagination.
He finds a letter from his great grandfather, explaining the history of this place. Built in 1734, a pirate lived here supposedly. Obviously, he thought, this is a pirate town after all. With the note is a ring and it looks old. Like, really old.
He puts it on, and the weight of it seems... different.
Immediately after, he hears from behind him in a thick London accent, gravely and irritated, "Fucking took you long enough."
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minionwater · 2 years
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concepts of some supporting cast star crossed lovers for D★SENT >:3 design notes in tags!
#so these two r reaper and muse until I can think of better names for them#essentially they’re a grim reaper and a guy who can’t stop reincarnating. and unfortunately they r in love#i have no idea if they’ll get together at this point but they see each other for like fifteen minutes every once in a while#yknow. whenever muse dies#reaper’s design is based off skeletons you find in the forest - nature and calming death essentially. decay as a form of life#those silver bands r all centipedes#muse is based off fancy candles - the everlasting endurance of fire. you can put it out but it comes back#as for personality in design language#reaper is based off sad drunk girls in the bathroom at parties who give the best advice but hate themselves too much to see they’re so full#of life and general exuberance#and muse is based off the song ‘the cat came back’ which I was forced to sing in elementary school n thought I made up for a decade somehow#if I have to think about the cat came back for 10+ years straight. so do you#reaper is calm enough. she shows up to dying people in projections as a guide - taking the form of their most comforting memory a la black p#arade. muse is so fucking sick of being alive at this point but they can’t resist the draw of art anyway - after all that’s what they keep b#eing pulled back for#they’re much more tricksterish than reaper. at this point they kinda don’t have morals anymore tbh. but morals r a very loose concept in thi#s world anyway. they just deal with being alone much differently than reaper does. she pushes it down and they bring it forth#also the design language for dsent is that only the dead have uncovered faces. something about it being the purest form of truth#so reaper’s face is uncovered for obvious reasons. but muse’s face is partially stripped away to show just how many times they’ve seen truth#and come back anyway. for everyone else it’s one and done yeah.#there’s also their face being stripped away for the lasting impact of art beyond death even after a person n their body r gone#original character#oc#character design#sander ocs#sanders art tag#dsent#D★SENT
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forbidden-sunlight · 14 days
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yandere!duke with wicked stepmother!reader imagine
warnings: mentioned child abuse, fem!reader, arranged marriage, implied obsessive behavior.
Imagine being reincarnated not as the heroine of the dark romance novel that you fell asleep reading, but the male lead’s villainous stepmother. Although it would be many years before you would marry his father, and your family would get out their mountain of debt from this arranged marriage. You swore to not take out your anger on the poor child as you laid in your crib.
Just because the duke still held a candle for his first wife and the mother of the male lead, his son did not deserve such cruel treatment from a woman who would never receive any affection from her husband. Arranged marriages rarely result in mutual happiness, but there is always the possibility of creating a respectful partnership between each other. 
So that is what you will do. 
You became ambitious in your studies and etiquette lessons, making connections with other young ladies of high society as your own reputation grew. Instead of becoming known for being a spiteful and superficial noblewoman,  invitations to soirees, tea parties, and banquets arrived at your household every other day.
The Mad Dog of Macaluso became The Blossoming Flower of High Society. Despite the marriage proposals your household had received, none of the gentlemen in the Umbra Empire were as rich as Giovanni Lombardo, the grand duke and the male lead’s father. 
So, the marriage still happened; but you were not bothered by your new husband’s declaration on your wedding night that he would never have a child with you, citing that he found you unpleasant and nothing at all like his deceased wife as his tall frame towering over yours, his gray orbs glaring down at you with icy disdain. You stared at him for a moment before you smiled.
“No one can ever replace a loved one, and it is a relief to know that you do not care for me romantically, Your Grace. This is a situation that is beneficial only to my house, and the Emperor had forced you to select me because he was tired of hearing everyone talking about how his most trusted aide has refused to remarry since his wife’s passing six years ago during childbirth. Your son is your heir, so there is no need to have another child. If you would permit me, I would like to get to know him more. If you do not believe me, you can assign a servant to watch me interact with him and the rest of the staff. Is that acceptable?”
The baffled expression on the duke’s face at your words had been worth all the hard work you have placed into being a better side character that wouldn’t be killed in the novel’s third chapter. You would not disappoint him. 
You would prove to be a valuable partner and protect the male lead until it was time for you to leave the stage. 
Three years passed. You performed your duties as the duchess, overseeing the household and organizing any functions that were to be hosted in the duchy. When you weren’t doing paperwork in your private office or speaking to the head butler on how to improve the workplace and other matters, you spent time with the male lead. 
Alessandro was a sweet little darling, possessing his father’s shiny platinum silver tresses and his mother’s bright blue eyes that sparkled in delight when you praised him for doing so well in his studies with a big hug or a kiss on the cheek. He was precocious for a six-year-old, though he still could not understand why his Papa didn’t like Mama. Mama being you, even when you have had to gently correct him more than once that you are his stepmother, not his birth mother. 
“Some day when you are older, you will understand.” You said, resting your chin on top of his head as you carefully adjusted your grip around his middle. He liked to sit in your lap under the garden’s pagoda during tea time, and you saw no issue with it.  “Papa may not like me, but we love you. That will never change, and we only want the best for you.” You ran a hand through his hair, tucking a stray strand behind his ear. 
In the original work, he became obsessed with the female lead because he did not receive any love from his father and was abused by his stepmother. Her gentle demeanor, her kindness and loveliness triggered his desire to have her all to himself. He had even commissioned the construction of a human-sized golden cage so that he could keep the female lead by his side forever. 
Alessandro pouted. “But I don’t want to wait that long! Can’t you tell me now?”
You chuckled. “Good things come to those who wait, my dear. Believe it or not, being a grown-up can be hard in this big, scary world.”
“That’s impossible! Papa is super cool and can do so many things!”
“Yes, he is quite something, isn’t he? Now drink some tea or it will get cold.” 
What you did not realize at the time was that the duke had returned home early from work and went to search for you. The head maid had told him where you were, though the duke had not expected Alessandro to be with you in the garden. He heard what you said about him, and how you have come to accept that you will never be loved by him and it was not his son’s fault.  How affectionate you were with him, smiling and ruffling his hair while reminding him to pay attention to his arithmetic tutor because it was important for him to understand numbers because they were just as important as knowing all colors in a rainbow or which fork to use for salads. 
You had kept your promise to him. 
You did not demand his affections, prioritizing the duchy and his son’s wellbeing. You did not take any paramours nor spent more than the allowance you were given to shop for dresses and other accessories in the capital. You attended tea parties, and did not bring shame to his family name. You were a perfect wife. You were worthy.
Would you object to him spending time with his son as you do? Would you allow him to get close, to spoil you with gifts? Would you even consider the idea of giving Alessandro a younger sibling? It’s been too long, and he does have needs. 
Happy Mother's Day, guys~! :)
Taglist: @nunezs-stuff @imperfectbloodmoon @yandere-dark-cupid @aiimee9 @cassanderasblog @facelessfionna @ixchelhernandez4 @yourdoorisunlocked @faux-ecrivain @julietdelamare @reiivven @ghostdoodlen @persephone-kore-law @dreamlessnight @obsessedwithromance @f4turemom @pinkgoldweebgirl @yandere-writer-momo
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sylhea-raemi · 1 year
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sigh cmon
#STARING SPECIFICALLY AT GOLD KING AND YELLOW DRAGON GENERAL#oh and lapis lazuli queen maybe too bc. lapis.#kanon is heavily implied to be the hero but. yellow dragon general huh......#gold king. i've been thinking abt it a LOT actually..#nero who is hermedes' only remaining prince with platinum blond hair and magenta eyes#there's no way though right because there wasn't any hints of nero being the reincarnation of the gold king#it would be fucked tho bc if lapis and nero turned up to be reincarnated too lol then that'd make frey a black sheep 😭#unless he's the silver king or something#also my bad i think i completely misremember stuff the green prietess ISN'T a reincarnated magician#......is she a character in maydare or am i making stuff up#so out of 10 we've met 6 or 7 of these.......#if 7 including kanon as yellow dragon general then there's 3 remaining..... 3...#3..... 3 × 3 = 9..... g.garnet team 9.......#goddammit i actually do want lapis nero and frey to not be reincarnated and just happen to play important roles in mayda-#fuck okay the thing is nero knew them four will play important role in whatever the fuck's gonna happen in maydare involving#the great magicians. does nero consider only gt9 to be involved in it or not? bc if that's the case that implies gt9 have greater role than#just being 'pawns'#since pawns can also become something else#also lmao if lapis lazuli queen real and if lapis = lazuli queen then. will she be a queen in ther future#goddamn oh my god my head is aching#i actually need to reread. my god.#sylhea talks maydare#edit: MY BAD seems that kanon isnxt the yellow dragon general 💀#when i read yellow dragon general i did not take dragon literally#anyway ig uhm yellow and blue are on heavenly empire's side#i need to distinguish that hermedes = the empire that used to be ruled by nero's family#heavenly empire = heremedes takes over#white sage = ulysses..... silver king.. silver being a color close to white...... silver king.. frey being ruschia's next king..... cmon...#what the hell oh cmon
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ohsleepie · 6 months
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The prince and his Physician. A role-reversal au based on a dream I had that I wanted to draw something for. More ramblings under the cut
In this au, there is a kingdom of men where the briar valley once stood. Silver, the heir to this kingdom, has been the only member of the royal family for centuries, the result of a curse that causes him to die before he's old enough to ascend to the throne and reincarnate days after his passing. Silver's immortality was once a symbols for the kingdom's permanence, but the repeated death of their monarch every two decades or so has left the citizens with perpetual, generational sorrow with seemingly no solution as no one besides Silver was alive when the curse was placed.
A few centuries after Silver was born and it was believed the last full-blooded fae in briar valley had either abandoned the land or died, a draconian fae child is found in the brambles. This fae, given the name Malleus, was brought to the kingdom at the request if the prince and raised as part of the royal court with the express purpose of becoming the royal physician/chemist. It is believed that Silver's curse, as everlasting as it seems, was placed on him by a fae with extreme magical prowess and if anyone has a chance of breaking it, it's another fae. The kingdom believes that Malleus will be able to break the death curse and allow Silver to become their immortal king.
However, Silver has other plans for his chemist. From an early age, Silver requested that Malleus use his talents to find a different kind of solution to his curse that he can never tell anyone. He wants Malleus to find a way to stop his reincarnations entirely and let him unburden his people with the monarchy. Whether to fulfill the request of the kingdom he calls home, or the prince that took him in is in Malleus' hands.
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ozzgin · 5 months
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Yandere!Yokai Harem x Reader Headcanons
Introducing some of the characters Reader will encounter throughout the story. Get to know your monsters in this handy reference booklet!
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Fun fact: The names of the characters are quite literally chapters from ‘The Tale of Genji’, one of the earliest existing novels written in the Heian period by noblewoman Murasaki Shibiku. Kiritsubo and Murasaki are your closest companions and bear the names of the main female characters of the story. (They’re men. A little irony.)
The list will be updated as more characters are revealed:
Abe no Nakamaro 阿倍 仲麻呂
Descendant of famous onmyōji Abe no Seimei, Nakamaro rapidly built his own reputation using the powers of yokai he'd captured across the country. His binding powers have yet to be deciphered. It is believed only his own blood can break the contract forged with the legendary beasts.
Known for his ruthlessness, Nakamaro was feared by humans and demons alike. His commissioned portraits often depict him surrounded by dark clouds - a signature detail - emphasizing his evil nature.
As you progress through your journey, you will be plagued by many flashbacks of his cruel deeds. It's almost as if your own hands are tainted by the blood of the yokai standing before you. You vow to free the beasts and prove you are nothing like the vile creature dwelling within your soul.
Kiritsubo 桐壺
The first yokai you encounter. Despite his intimidating appearance, he is the kindest of the group. He is tall and very muscular, with short, straight horns, long silver hair and glowing amber eyes. When he smiles you can spot his sharp, prominent fangs. He has multiple scars on his back, reminiscent of old punishments.
He is a dragon spirit, although his true powers remain unknown. Nakamaro always kept him close and was particularly strict with him, hoping to unlock his dormant potential, to no avail. He begins to show improvement once he embarks on his journey with you. It seems that his desire to protect his new owner was the secret all along.
Kiritsubo is extremely clingy once he gets to know you better. You're kind and patient and nothing like the famous onmyōji before you. He almost can't believe you're part of his reincarnation. He will follow you around everywhere, like a loyal dog, and might be overly touchy sometimes. He can't help it.
Murasaki 紫
Murasaki is the second yokai you meet. He is tall and slender, with long black hair and imposing horns. His deep crimson eyes hold a lot of resentment towards you, or rather whoever lies within you. Despite this, he always holds a disciplined posture and acts very well-mannered.
He used to be Nakamaro's right hand. He is considered to be the most skilled among the legendary yokai. A master of the sword and possessing unmatched intelligence, he served both as an advisor and bodyguard. Always cold and calculated, he rarely shows any hint of emotion. He seems to be quite sarcastic and arrogant.
He doesn't interact much with you in the beginning. In fact, he's most annoyed by the idea of partnering up with a weak human like you. He offers to train you with the sword and teaches you spells and prayers. Despite his complaints, he always protects you from any danger. As you spend more time together, he slowly opens up and might even show signs of attachment.
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Suma 須磨
Suma is the biggest of the legendary yokai, towering over everyone with his gargantuan frame. He has bright red hair and large bull horns, with robust features and fierce eyes. He has many tattoos covering his body, going all the way up to his chin.
Suma is a worshipped guardian of war. He lives for battle and is said to reward bravery and courage. Despite this, he has a very approachable personality. He is loud and easygoing, rarely showing signs of distress. He uses a spear when fighting, although he prefers his bare hands. Brute strength is his specialty.
He finds it hilarious that the feared Abe no Nakamaro has been reincarnated into a small girl. He will often joke around with you and challenge you to playfights. When borrowing his powers, you are able to display impressive feats of physical strength. He likes watching you fight and encourages you to train.
Yuugiri 夕霧
Yuugiri is a mysterious yokai. He is pale with rather feminine features, appearing androgynous. He is very elegant and well spoken, although both Kiritsubo and Murasaki have warned you to be wary of him.
He is a serpent spirit, sly and manipulative. He is known for tricking humans and devouring their souls, yet very few can tell his true nature. He is incredibly charismatic and many people fall in love with him, meeting their early demise.
You cannot read him and therefore keep your distance. His twisted smile never leaves his face. He is very interested in you and while his reasoning might be superficial in the beginning, he does become rather attached and tries to prove his honest feelings to you.
Warning: Spoilers ahead!
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Sekiya 関屋
One of the yokai that has remained by Abe no Nakamaro's side, in his resting tomb. He is the one that kept his presence concealed, casting a barrier around the temple for the entirety of his master's slumber.
His main power is casting barriers. Sekiya is the one that guards the entrance and guides you towards the onmyōji for your battle. Once you defeat Nakamaro, he joins your group.
He is very reserved, shy and insecure. He cannot fight properly and often bemoans his lack of purpose. Like Kiritsubo, he falls in love with your kind nature and clings to you, hoping to be of use.
Sakaki 榊
The other yokai to guard Nakamaro's tomb, Sakaki has been tasked to keep his master alive.
He has the ability to heal and even revive under certain circumstances. After your fight against Abe no Nakamaro, he offers to heal your fatal wounds and joins your group.
Sakaki is rather gloomy and depressed by nature. He has an unhealthy obsession with death and often makes grim or unusual remarks. He considers you his muse and will sometimes write unsettling poetry dedicated to you.
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pinkie-pop · 3 months
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Hazbin Hotel idea: Morningstar! Reader
Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Platonic Hazbin Hotel x Reader, Yandere Hazbin Hotel
Reader's design
Link to part I
Haven't you ever wanted to transmigrate into the world of your favorite media? Of course you have! Otherwise, why would you even be here?
It's a story we've all seen before. Someone dies and wakes up in a new, exciting body, in a new, exciting world!
You've seen it all before. But you never thought it could actually happen to you.
There's a baby crying somewhere in the room.
You're staring up at nothing, the most gorgeous chandelier you've ever seen in your life hanging from an unfamiliar ceiling. It takes you a moment to realize it's actually a baby mobile.
What kind of rich freak buys something that elaborate for a baby? You're in a strange place, that's for sure.
The crying gets louder. You reach to cover your ears, only to stop dead in your tracks as you realize just how small you are.
No way...that baby...is it you?
[More under the cut]
So, this is really happening, huh? You've reincarnated (or something) into the body of some (assumedly very) wealthy family's baby.
This.
Fucking.
Rules.
You're no stranger to the transmigration trope, having read countless light novels and webcomics during your time on Earth. You know what to expect—a loving family, beautiful male leads, and more money than you could ever spend. Of course, you'll miss your old life and friends, but honestly, who could turn down a life like this? You were (re)born with a silver spoon, and you plan to take full advantage of it.
The crying gets even louder, and you realize that you're hungry. It's a different kind of hunger than you've ever felt before. It almost...doesn't feel human.
But that's silly, isn't it?
You've been born with a silver spoon, who could ask for more? You will yourself to stop crying, but it only gets louder and louder as the hunger grows.
The door opens, and the most gorgeous woman you've ever seen steps inside. Judging by her attire, she must be someone of high social standing. Is she your mother?
"Aw, hush now little one, Mommy's here," she says, picking you up and rocking you gently. The crying ceases almost immediately, leaving you feeling slightly irritated. How come this woman has more control over your body than you do? You don't have very long to stew in your irritation, however, as the woman pulls out a bottle from seemingly thin air, a dark red liquid gently sloshing around inside.
You're no expert, but you can say with 99% certainty that that isn't milk. You don't know what it is, honestly, but you do know that it's the most appetizing looking thing you've seen in your life.
The woman, your mother, places the bottle to your lips, and you lap it up greedily. "Hungry, are we?" She asks. You obviously don't respond. Even if you could, you're far too focused on drinking down every last drop of whatever is in that bottle to pay any attention to what she's saying.
Finally, your hunger satiated, you finish the bottle. Your mother poofs it out of existence, but you don't have time to think about the potential existence of magic before the door opens again.
"How is our little one?" A male voice (your father, most likely) asks. It sounds familiar, but you can't quite place it.
"They've got quite the healthy appetite," your mother responds, turning to show you to the man.
Your eyes grow as wide as saucers.
Lucifer...?
A/N: I'll write more of this if it gets popular. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months
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Main Masterlist || Navigation || All works are F!Reader || All images sourced from Pinterest ||
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SONGS THAT SOUND LIKE SEA-FOAM || Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Fisherman!John Price x F!Mermaid!Reader
SYNOPSIS: In which a lone mermaid finds good company with a handsome fisherman who trespasses in her cove. But the word isn't what it used to be...hunting ships patrol the waters.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
FANART: “You’re somethin’ beautiful, y’know that?” & "Mermaid Interpretation" by @thedevillovesflowers
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2. RUN AWAY TO ME || Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Blacksmith!Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Runaway Bride!Reader
SYNOPSIS: The night started with wine and ended with blood. Racing through the woods after having escaped your wedding, you find a lone homestead in the middle of a rainstorm. Alone, wounded, and bordering on unconsciousness, you have no option but to knock.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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3. BLOOD-STAINED WOOL SPUN AT MIDNIGHT || 18 + Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Werewolf!Ghost x F!Tailor!Reader (Set in Van Helsing Era/Aesthetic)
SYNOPSIS: When you left the town in the year of our Lord, 1897, to buy more wool from the local farmer, the cobblestone streets had come up to meet the hooves of your neighbor's horse.
Along this trip of false hope, the open fields at your sides had led to the backdrop of a brimstone forest; an old shadow seems to loom there. A black thing. A devil with eyes like a burial mound. You were told to fear the Ghost of the Forest, but never had you known you'd be caught in his blackened claws.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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4. BLACK METAL AND BOURBON || 18+ Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Biker/Mechanic!Ghost x F!Bartender!Reader
SYNOPSIS: You've been in this small town for your entire existence, giving up dreams and aspirations to carry on life as a simple bartender despite your hatred of two things: the smell of cigarette smoke and the disrespect from regulars, namely, your ex and his buddies. But on a still-air Sunday, almost overnight, a mechanics shop pops up right across the street - giving sight to new faces and a fresh group of men with a love of motorcycles. One, in particular, seems to only like Bourbon.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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5. TO HUNT A SILVER STAG || Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Knight!Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x Fae!Princess!Reader
SYNOPSIS: Promised to a greedy king to try and preserve the magic of the land, a princess instead finds herself drawn to a chivalrous knight and his gentle words. But everyone knows magic has a mind of its own.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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6. HOW TO ADAPT TO FIRE || Mini-Series || Completed
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PAIRING: Fireman!John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Journalist!Reader
SYNOPSIS: There is an arsonist in your city, and you're going to catch him. As one of the most prolific investigative journalists in the city, you make a lot of enemies the second your papers are released to the public. Your informant - and perhaps something more - in the local fire department makes a point to tell you to be careful.
But everyone knows he's right beside you when the fires start sparking.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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7. MOSS, BONE, AND A FALLING STAR || Mini-Series || Not Started
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PAIRING: Witch Hunter!Price x F!Witch!Reader
SYNOPSIS: Humans have not been kind to you, but they usually are to things that they don't understand. You're offered a deal when a rugged-looking Witch Hunter shows up at your secluded hut. Make him see you for what you truly are in three stories or less. You oblige and give him the limit - a story of moss, of bone, and of a falling star.
CHAPTERS: Part I, Part II, Part III
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8. VIVAMUS, MORIENDUM EST || Undetermined || Not Started
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PAIRING: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader (Reincarnation AU)
SYNOPSIS: In every lifetime you made a promise to one another: even if you must die, you will find a way to live together for all of eternity, be that five or a hundred years from now. You'd not broken your promise yet.
CHAPTERS: Undetermined
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deadsetobsessions · 1 month
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Once more the hallucinations hit, and once more I am here writing it out.
My brain is fucking terrifying and I want out, so bad. This came to me in the form of a nightmare.
Also, please don’t take the timeline into consideration, because I have no idea what’s going on. Again, nightmares and dreams tend to not have the best coherency when it comes to plot and timelines. The reincarnation doesn’t have a name, I was too busy feeling terrified. Shit in parentheses was how I experienced the nightmare. Everything else is just me adding sprinkle sprinkle.
——
Ra’s al Ghul.
Talia al Ghul.
Two names that she had been aware of, in the peripherals of her hyper fixation. Two characters meant to enhance the story of the Dark Knight. Side characters, on a good day. Perhaps, a main antagonist on a better day.
On a bad day?
Main characters. Real, living people. Real, living, breathing assassins.
Unfortunately, they’re her new family. One she remembered coming into, bathed in a pool of blood and screams.
She was not a baby.
She is now, a baby. The first of Talia al Ghul’s children. The eldest, once Damian al Ghul was born.
Swaddled in emerald green and gold silks, she was presented to a man with silver streaked hair and a receding hairline. He too, was robed in green and golds.
“A daughter, Talia?” He rumbled, the smooth Arabic flowing out of his mouth failing to hide the acrid disappointment. The child, past the haze of confusion of suddenly being deported from her own adult body into one of a helpless child, felt a stirring of irritation. It’s good she learned the language, because now she knew exactly how Ra’s felt about her. The child grumbled a displeased sound. Not that she would have ignored the fact that her grandfather was Ra’s al Ghul. (He smelled like moth eaten fabric and blood- but I think that was because my cat accidentally scratched me.)
“My apologies, father.”
“Do not tell the young detective of this. Had it been a son, perhaps things would have been different. No, a daughter would only hinder him.”
Talia bowed, hands tightening on her daughter. “May I raise her, father?”
“A resource is still a resource. Go ahead, Talia.”
“Yes, father.” Talia took the dismissal and bowed before leaving.
On her way back to the room with the reincarnation’s crib, Talia al Ghul stroked her daughter’s head.
“I wish you were born a boy, my daughter. I am sorry my beloved will never know of you.”
The reincarnation looked at her new mother. She’s young, the woman-child realized. A teenager.
“You’ll have to be useful, my daughter. Your grandfather is not so kind as to keep the useless. I… do not wish for your death,” her mother muttered.
Great. She got new life and it’s already in danger.
——
She learned to swing a knife. Swords. She learned and devoured the teachings. She learned to be useful.
But then they asked her to take the life of a man who did her no wrong.
Her baby blues clashed with her grandfather’s Lazarus green.
She was still young. A child.
“No.”
“No?”
“He did no wrong.”
“He failed, granddaughter.” Ra’s smiled down at her, patronizing. Cruel. “Perhaps you possess your father’s heart, and you are foolishly sentimental, as women and children tend to be. But in the end, you are an al Ghul and you will obey. Plunge in your blade and I will reward you.”
The reincarnation looked at the man kneeling in front of her, resignation and a hint of pity in what little she could see of his face.
She’s already died before. What did she have to be afraid of?
“No.”
They tried to beat the weakness out of her. It didn’t work.
——
The reincarnation stared at the mirror, left alone in an opulent cage of gold and emeralds and precious stones that meant little to her now.
Her hands traced her back, small fingers finding purchase in soft skin. Her mouth opened fruitlessly, noise refusing to escape. She still felt the burning magic, the brand her own blood had carved into her skin and soul because she refused to kill. The chains her grandfather had shackled around her with magic and cruel amusement.
She had killed him, in the end. Obey, or be punished. Her body had moved without her permission, the reincarnation a prisoner in a body that refused to do as she commanded. The knife swung, a life taken, her hands dipped in red.
She learned a valuable lesson that day.
There were things worse than death.
“This is an order, granddaughter.”
The Magic had flared a searing heat at her neck, forcing her to kneel on broken legs. Ra’s loomed above, authority in his voice. She was bound to obey, regardless.
“You will never speak another word of affection, you will never speak another word to anyone unless I allow it. Perhaps this will teach you of your folly, and your place in this world.”
The loss of her freedom and the fear that came with it was a bitter and devastating lesson.
——
Ra’s al Ghul was so much worse than what little she knew of him.
She was right to be afraid for herself.
Her mother had worried, when she’d withdrawn and refused to speak to her. Even if she could, the reincarnation would not have wanted to. The reincarnation had felt furious, back then, when she thought of Talia. Her mother who refused to protect her. Her mother, who claimed she loved her but refused to see the chains Ra’s wrapped around her neck. She who plied the reincarnation with a supportive hand but forced her into the fighting pits.
But, as the reincarnation stumbled out on bruised and used legs from Ra’s al Ghul’s meeting chambers where he had allowed his business partners to partake in her, she realized that Ra’s was a monster in a human’s body and her mother was a victim of his making.
The lesson Ra’s taught her that day was that if she was not useful, if she did not kill, he would take what was left of her and make use of her.
Hate flared in her heart, and the beginning of Ra’s downfall began the day he let her go from the chambers alive. Injured, but alive. Injured and violated, but alive and furious.
——
She carved her hate and rage and helplessness and fear in the bodies of the people he bid her to kill. Her silenced screams were expressed in the way she splattered blood, the way she covered herself in it. A killing machine first, a stress reliever second, and a child… wasn’t on the list of things she was allowed to be.
His enemies were felled, one after another. He gave her his approval, something she detested.
But still, she continued, bodies racking upwards, tens turning to hundreds, hundreds edging into thousands.
The red in her ledger became ichor and guilt. Her language became violence and obedience.
“You have become a sharp tool, granddaughter.”
She was a genius, after all. And now, she could not disobey. A blade that Ra’s believed will never point towards him. She kneeled. She obeyed.
“Thank you, grandfather.” Her words were only allowed to come out- without searing, terrible pain- when she was thanking him. She tried not to do it as often as he wanted. He thought he broke her when he read the obedience she carved into her body language.
But she never bowed. Never. Not to him. Never.
——
“My weapon could learn much from your granddaughter,” David Cain sat across from Ra’s, wine in their stupid goblets. How she detested the green and blacks he’s seen fit to dress her with. She’s dressed provocatively, not of her own choice. She doesn’t have much of those- doesn’t have much in ways of choices- these days.
She was twelve, and Ra’s al Ghul deserved to die.
“Her combat is a higher form of what my daughter has achieved. How did you do it?”
When Ra’s began to reply, she slipped away.
She found the girl. She found… the cage- the black box- the child was placed in. The child flinched from her when she opened the metal box, fear only easing as the reincarnation kept her body language neutral and kind. (It was pitch black, and about the size of like, a closet. No light. Only from whatever door the box had.) (Cass’ hands hurt from banging on the walls to be let out)
David Cain’s daughter, her mind whispered, the memories of another life once more making itself known.
“Cassandra.” She whispered, regretting it immediately when pain wracked her body. She fell to her knees as the punishment for disobeying an order slammed into her.
The girl looked at her in concern, but did not move closer. The reincarnation stared at this girl and saw a reflection of herself.
David Cain would be here for a month. She will free Cassandra in those days.
——
The weapon stared at the girl in front of her, kneeling in pain.
She did not understand.
-
The girl came back. Water. Food. Kind.
The weapon felt warm. The girl was quiet. No sounds. Good. The weapon knew the girl understood. The weapon thinks that the girl is a weapon too.
-
The girl comes back, again. This time, she makes a sound. It hurt her, but she did it again. The weapon understands when the girl points at herself and repeats the sound. The sound means the girl. The girl expects something from the weapon.
The weapon makes the sound, flinching to see if the owner will come to punish it. The girl purposefully sits, relaxed but vigilant… and protective. Of the weapon?
The weapon relaxed. It repeated the sound, pointing at the girl.
The girl smiles, in pain. But approval. The weapon feels- the weapon is warm, like under the blanket. Approval.
The girl teaches her to make sounds but the weapon communicates without it. It does not like the sounds, does not need them, but the girl seems to think it’s important.
The weapon likes the girl, so the weapon learns. They still understand through no sounds, through reading each other.
-
The girl comes back, silently. Secretly. The weapon does not notify the owner. The weapon feels- does not want to.
The girl- the girl with the sound- she says a different sound. Her body tells the weapon that it’s important, this sound.
And when the girl points at herself and says her own sound, then points at the weapon and says that new sound again, the weapon begins to understand.
The girl had given the weapon her own sound.
“Cass—n- ra.”
“Cass,” the girl said, and Cassandra understood.
“Cass.” Cassandra pointed to herself.
-
The owner wanted- wanted Cassandra to end a life. Cassandra watched the owner kill and gesture to the dead thing.
Cassandra did not want to.
When Cassandra is placed back into the pitch black box, she waited for the girl.
The girl came.
“Don’t want.” Cassandra clung to her, reading the welcome and the sadness in the girl’s body. Cassandra tucked her face into the girl’s shoulder. She is cold. The girl is warm.
The girl hugged her back. The girl understood. Sadness hardened into lines of determination. Cassandra felt… light. Felt hope.
-
Cassandra slipped away from the place, water in her pack for the dessert and money to run from the country. The girl stayed behind, seeing her off. The girl tells her to never come back.
Cassandra did not want to leave the girl behind, but the girl could not go.
“Be free, Cass.” The girl had whispered through the pain. “For the both of us.”
——
Her grandfather knew. He allowed David Cain to break her, not kill because she was of use to him still, as a lesson. She found that she hated his lessons. But, she hated his attention more.
And still, she could not regret. How could she, when Cass trusted her with what fragile hope she had?
So, she lets him beat her, and provokes him with smirks and fearless eyes because the longer he’s focused on her, the more time Cass has to run.
Then, he gets too angry, and insults Ra’s, whose eyes grew cold. Her grandfather gestured and while she usually hated the command that followed that gesture, she could not feel that hatred now.
She got back up, legs broken and arms twisted once more, and attacked David Cain.
Ra’s would not follow Cass. Not when she was not his business to deal with, and not when David Carin’s fury amused him so.
David Cain would not follow Cass. Not while she still drew breath. The reincarnation stood, and threw herself at one of the best assassins of the century.
She tore his throat out with nothing but her teeth. She felt, for once, not like a monster. Not even when Ra’s nodded in approval and ordered for David Cain’s broken body to be cleaned up.
——
She’s been granted a mission in New Jersey, once her months of discipline- of torture- ended. She does not get ordered to find Cassandra. She’s fourteen now, and as silent as ever. Her mother had adjusted to her silence by then- long ago, actually, taking it as a quirk her daughter had developed. She hadn’t been a terribly vocal child, after all. Talia praised her for being useful even as a woman- the self degradation something the reincarnation had no doubt Ra’s had insidiously trained into Talia- and for being loyal to Ra’s.
Sometimes, she hates Talia for being- for-
Never mind. She couldn’t afford to hate anyone else.
She killed her targets early, determination and wistfulness urging her movements into sharp . Then, she made her way to Gotham and slipped into the city of darkness- where her father was.
She watched as he hid in the shadows almost as easily as she did. She watched as he flew and glided with the younger Robin. (He was younger than her by a year. She checked.) He was free. They were free.
She wished…
As she turned away, she saw a child tumbling from the edge of a roof. It was an instinct she’d thought Ra’s had managed to bury after the months he’d spent making sure she killed only children.
She hated him.
She caught him, swooping in and tucking him against her side as she plucked him from the air and plopped him back onto the crumbling roof of Gotham’s slums.
“Oh, thank you! So much- are you a vigilante?” The boy asked, looking at her masked face. It’s a good thing she wasn’t exactly dressed like a regular League operative.
She shook her head. Her eyes fell onto his camera, faint memories rising once more. She had an inkling-
“I’m- uh- Tim!” The boy introduced himself nervously, edging away from her silence. “Thank you for saving me…?”
She nodded. She pointed to the camera, tilting her head.
“Oh- you… want to see it?” He clutched his camera closer. Oh, he did have some sense of self preservation. She wondered why a seven year old was allowed to roam these streets… but she did worse at seven.
She held her hand up and back up. The boy hesitated, and then showed her the camera. “Uh- I took pictures of Robin and Batman!”
They sat on that roof for hours, and she let Tim Drake tell her stories about her father and his son. Ward. Son.
She could tell that Tim didn’t have anyone to listen to him.
She didn’t have long until she had to go back or risk severe punishment, but… she could make time for Tim, to listen to him.
She wondered if Cass managed to escape completely. She wondered if her sister all but in name and blood learned how to smile.
——
Tim had never had a friend before!
She listened to him! And gave him hugs the one time he was brave enough to ask! And she seemed to like Batman and Robin as much as he did! No one who didn’t like them would listen to his endless rambling otherwise, right? (Tim was super skinny, like ribs poking out skinny. He looked like a sickly Victorian child and he was kind of cold)
“And then, Robin went like this,” he pantomimed the awesome punch Dick Grayson did on a Joker goon. “And the guys got knocked out just like that!”
His new friend nodded, looking interested.
“Sorry, am I talking too much?” Tim asked anxiously. He didn’t want to make his friend hate him!
She shook her head, and gestured for him to continue.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
His new friend was so cool! She even taught him how to throw a punch and to fight!
——
When she had to leave, she prepared Tim for it.
“Do you have to go?”
She nodded and placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. Her other hand held a duffle bag with an assortment of weapons she carefully kept from him. (One of the blades still had guts on it, which, ew.)
“Try not to fall off anymore roofs, little photographer.” She said, smiling at his shocked look before leaping away.
“Wait, you can talk?!” He shouted at her back. She smiled a little wider.
——
“A son, this time.” Ra’s al Ghul’s voice echoed in his disgustingly flashy throne room. It rings of approval.
The reincarnation stood behind her mother, eyes cast downwards.
“Well done, Talia. I finally have a worthy heir.”
Damian al Ghul cooed.
The reincarnation was scared. But… she could not allow her younger brother to be trapped like she was. She’s fifteen now, a decade of slavery having worn her down and nearly broken her. But with her brother… no, she could not allow it.
She met her mother’s eyes and knew then that they agreed. Protect Damian, at all costs.
She ignored the sting of envy. So what her mother could not find it in herself to protect her daughter? So long as she protected Damian, it didn’t matter.
Maybe she didn’t matter. Maybe she wasn’t worth anything. Maybe- maybe- maybe.
She also ignored the seed of disgust she had for mother’s actions in conceiving Damian. She couldn’t do anything about it. Talia was also a victim.
A louder voice in her asked if she could really excuse that, when Talia had a choice and she chose to hurt and violate Bruce Wayne like that. She wondered if she could truly ever forgive Talia. She wondered if Bruce Wayne got therapy.
——
She stared at the tome in front of her, eyes blank. (Actually, she had no eyes. Like? Empty sockets, but then later she had eyes???)
The brand- the shackles- the chains could only be broken if Ra’s died. She wasn’t opposed to that. But if he died, so did she. She couldn’t even kill herself to get out, because the chains would be there even if she died. If she was revived- a high chance, thanks to the fucking pits- then the chains would still be there.
Perhaps… she could use the pits?
Her mind turned and turned.
——
“This is your ukht.” Her mother pointed at her. Damian stared up at her, and she melted. Her brother was too damn cute.
“Ukhti?”
She nodded as her mother smiled in joy. “Yes, habibi.”
She was better at hiding the pain, now. She was better at enduring it, too, that fucking burning feeling. She spoke more, but only to Damian.
It would not do for her brother to grow up not knowing how to receive verbal expressions of affection. Not like she did, in this life.
Still, it hurt to speak. But then, she had an idea, based on Cassandra.
She could not speak, but speaking wasn’t the only way of communication. She’ll teach Damian sign language- standard, as commanded- but also her own version. Yes, she could do it. It wouldn’t be hard.
She was a genius, after all, and creating languages wasn’t as hard as people seem to think.
——
Damian copied her, small fingers patting his hand four times.
She did it back to him. “I love you.” She tells him, with sounds and with motions.
He does it back, excitedly, because he had a secret with ukhti!
——
Sometimes, she dared not to touch Damian. She wants to ruffle his hair and give him hugs but the ichor on her hands reminds her to not get to greedy. She did not deserve it.
Not when her hands were stained with the lives of so many people.
——
Another mission.
She was twenty now, and not much closer to escaping her bonds. Though, once she hit her majority, Ra’s lost interest in her in that way. A blessing, even if she had to seduce his “business partners” into giving him better deals more often now.
She stops by Bludhaven. The Robin she watched so many years ago- six, by her count- had grown new wings and moved. She wanted to see if he could fly still.
He could. He flew as free- no, freer than his days as Robin.
She dipped away to complete her mission (nuclear weapon trading, really?) and swings back to see a spider trying to break the former Robin’s wings.
“No.” Nightwing whispered, staring upwards at the cloudy sky blankly. “Please, stop.”
She didn’t need to hear any more. She saw red, and dove feet first straight onto the spider’s head, knocking her out.
She picked up a near-catatonic Nightwing, and helped him to his apartment. She left Tarantula in the rain and felt zero guilt about it.
He changed mechanically, some kind of instinct keeping him from removing his domino, but it was a bit pointless considering she escorted him to his personal apartment.
She watched as Nightwing slipped into an exhausted sleep before leaving. She had a spider to squish, and traces to hide.
——
Dick wakes up, drained and exhausted. He… someone saved him.
He sees a scrawled note, handwriting impeccable enough to be a font, written with his pen. He picked it up from his table, and his eyes tiredly read the message.
“Don’t worry about Tarantula. Or your identity.”- A friend.
He remembered- the mask- the mask of the stranger that saved him vividly. He’d remember. And he’d thank them if they ever came back.
——
She was in charge of training assassins, these days. A year and a half later after Bludhaven, she was back in Nanda Parbat, and she’s devoured every magical tome she could get her hands on. They all say the same things.
Her assassins were trained well, and Ra’s praises her with more responsibilities as he followed the pit in his obsessions. Her mother began to splinter the group, not knowing that as Ra’s began his descent into madness, people looked towards her instead of Talia for leadership. They did not know that her unwavering presence by Ra’s side wasn’t voluntary but it is their true that she became his right hand out of pure skill. And flawless obedience, of course.
Then, someone new joins.
Someone with pit rage and empty eyes that goes rigid when she approaches.
Then again, most of the operatives freeze up when she walks towards them.
Her memories roar. A child.
He bowed, and her eyes followed the streak of white hair at the forefront of his skull.
She gestured at him to follow, and ignored the pitiful eyes the rest of the assassins gave to the kid- they act like her training was hard when she went easy on them (it was)- and led the kid towards the training rooms.
She knew who he was, even if her grandfather and mother didn’t think she knew.
Her… Bruce Wayne would probably appreciate his son being returned relatively sane.
But first, she had to beat the Pit out of him. Then, she could assign body guarding duties to him, in an attempt to protect him.
——
“Grandfather, I will take Damian’s punishment.”
“A whipping girl, granddaughter?” But he nodded anyways. He made Damian watch.
She kneeled and allowed the punishment. She couldn’t always protect him from Ra’s, but this she could do anytime. It’s not like she was unfamiliar with the torture. (The whip had barbs. Rusty. And they sprinkled salt.)
——
“I liked poetry….” Jason Todd tells her after a training session. “I think.”
“Sure. I’ll call you Grave, then.” Pain. But she was used to it.
He tilted his head, eyes going blank once more. She sighed. There went his memories again. (His eyes were blank and glazed. Like looking at someone you love and knowing they’re looking through you.)
——
“I would not trust her,” she says to the air, next to a Red Hood emerging from Talia al Ghul’s chambers. She could see it, the beginnings of Gotham’s new crime lord. But still, “Talia al Ghul is known for her lies.”
She pushed away from the wall. It was up to Grave if he listened. It was out of her hands now.
——
She’s twenty-five, and she’s helping Damian pack for his first meeting with Bruce Wayne.
“You must not tell him about me.” Because he’d come rushing here, and she had worked too hard to save Damian for her fool of a father to come and ruin all of that effort.
“I promise.” Her little brother said solemnly. Ukhti said it out loud, which meant it was important and she expected him to keep that promise.
The only other time he’d heard her speak was to tell him she loved him.
The reincarnation smiled and told him through their special sign language, to treat the current Robin with respect and to try his best to get the current Robin to pass down his title.
‘Robin is earned. They have different rules, over there. Try your best to learn those rules.’
Her brother was sheltered. She loved him, but he was spoilt and sheltered. Of course she was worried. Talia barely mothered him.
“I know. You do not have to remind me so often, ukhti.”
She smiled, and patted his head.
“Be safe,” she whispered. “I will miss you.”
Damian darted in for a hug. “Of course. Goodbye, sister. See you soon.”
She hoped not. It was hard enough to convince Ra’s that Damian would learn more under Bruce Wayne.
(She was locked in a small closet- like Cass- for about a week, because she brought up the idea first.)
——
She found it.
The answer to pit rage laid in an old, all but crumbling tome from Atlantis- answers “from a ghost.”
——
Bruce Wayne died. Months after Damian came to live with him. That- irritating- she sighed and worked with her mother to turn Ra’s al Ghul’s attention away from Gotham, lest he called Damian back in Bruce Wayne’s absence.
The little photographer caught grandfather’s attention. She stood vigil as he played chess with Ra’s. His interest in Damian wavered. Anticipation blurred in her veins.
She saved his friends. Her assassins. She let them go, telling them to wait for the little photographer’s plan. (Y’all miss girl had fucking bloody handprints on her pants like someone tried to grab it.)
The first few people who had an inking she might not be loyal to Ra’s… and it was them.
When her other assassins attacked Red Robin, she cut them down before they could touch him, helping him with a furious League of Spiders or whatever operative. She hated spiders.
“What…?”
“You’re a lot of trouble, little photographer.” She sighed. His jaw dropped.
“It’s you!”
“Go,” she cut him off. “Blow this place up. I left a surprise for you outside.”
——
“Owens?! Z?!” Tim trembled, exhaustion and shock and wonder hitting him at once.
“Heya, boss!” Z chirped. Owens helped Tim up while Z helped Tam. Pry walked around them, looking out for further threats. “The nightmare trainer let us go. She knew you, I think.”
Tim smiles, all shark teeth and zero hero. (In the background, the song zero to hero from Hercules 2, played in reverse.) “Tell me more.”
——
Damian grunted, bracing himself for the magical creature’s attack.
“Robin!” His father barked out, panicked. Damian hoped he’d survive-
Shhhlk!
He looked up and there stood his ukht. She bounded forwards, using the odd fauna of the magical plane to bolster her movements as she sliced the creatures apart with her swords, magic humming brightly as she cut through them… and the magicians attacking them.
“What- what are you doing here?” He asked. She greeted him, three fingers curled over her shoulder.
‘My question is,’ she signed. ‘Why were you here without a magical weapon.’
Damian sighed as father stepped in between them.
“Who are you.”
“Batman. Cease your excessive worry. I trust her with my life,” Damian snapped. He stepped around a shocked Batman, looked him in the eyes, and unsheathed his katana. He handed it over to his ukht, who took it with amusement.
‘See?’ His eyes seemed to say. Father tensed when his sister unsheathed her own blade and handed it to him.
‘Are you here for a specific reason?’ His sister signed to him.
“Uh, you gonna introduce us, little man?”
Damian sent the Flash a derisive look and ignored him.
“We’re looking for a magician. He set a squadron of demons loose into D.C. last night. He has a tower.” Damian added.
“Robin,” Father growled. “Who is this.” Damian shot him a look and turned back to his sister.
The reincarnation tilted her head. ‘Tower… it’ll have to be that way.’
“Could you take us there?” Damian asked. Truthfully, he could find the way himself. But he wanted more time around his ukht. She nodded and Damian straightened.
“I feel like we should be concerned that Robin’s friend just murdered a bunch of people.”
His sister glanced back and ignored them.
“Silence, incompetents. Speak another word against her, and Batman’s no killing rule will be applied creatively.” He hissed. (The fucking surroundings hissed with him y’all what the fuck)
He turned when his sister ruffled his hair (Superman muttered a super shocked “what the fuck.”) and Damian allowed it. He had missed his sister.
——
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orcusnoir · 8 months
Text
More Chain "weirdness" because, honestly, these Links are living anomalies
Time: He knows the time. Exactly. Always, if you ask, you'll get the answer down to the second. (A common headcanon)
Stal monsters are absolutely terrified of him. They'll attack if other Links are around or if backed into a corner. But out in the open? They scatter. The Stal monsters can sense something is just wrong with Time. Maybe it's the Fierce Deity that still lingers within him.
Or maybe, just maybe.
They know what happens to him.
Even his own weapons are anomalies. Wild tried to take a picture of the Gilded Sword for the Compendium, and the Slate crashed.
The magical operating system of the Sheikah Slate hard crashed and, when rebooted, displayed only one line when the image of the Gilded Sword was selected.
"Error: Temporal Anomaly detected"
The image itself could not be displayed.
Twilight: Mirrors will very, very briefly show an image of a wolf whenever the Rancher stares into one.
Goats and other farm animals will always approach Twilight.
The Captain joked that the animals can sense that Twilight worked on a farm and is very good at it.
But do they sense that? Or something more?
Wind: Ever since getting the Phantom Sword, the Sailor's perception of time can randomly slow. The way he describes it reminds Wild of his Flurry Rush, but Wind can't control when it happens. It just does.
Four: The Smithy has a similar effect when it comes to reflections, but his mostly appears in pools of "magic" water, such as the water found around the Great Fairies in Wild's Hyrule.
Whenever he stares into such waters, he doesn't see his reflection, only the Colors staring back.
This also applies to pure silver. Which is why Four went from making silverware to making weapons.
Legend: The Vet has an uncanny ability to just know what magic type something is by just looking at it. And it's not just from experience
If the Vet were to ever face the Gloom, he'd know it's from Ganon without even knowing that Ganon was back.
Hyrule: No matter what village the Chain travels to. Everyone there just recognizes Rule, but can't explain why. Even if they've never met a Link before.
Warriors: His mere presence causes guards and the such to treat him and the Chain with the utmost respect and authority. The Captain could be in his pajamas, and it'd happen.
Wild: People, outside of those closest to him, will just forget his face entirely. Distant friends take a second or two before realizing that they're looking at the Champion.
Sky: The Divine Dragons, if visible, will just follow him. The breeze by him is always comfortable.
The shadows underneath him display a different figure at sunset. One that wears a pauldron on his right arm. None of the Links wears a lone pauldron besides the Captain.
Sky knows who the shadow is.
He was the first to be reincarnated after all.
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a-mnhia · 2 years
Text
thinking about how the communion wafer va.n helsing stuck to mina’s forehead becomes a scar.
0 notes
ladythornofrivia · 3 months
Text
Lady with Teal Eyes || Aemond x Aunt!Hightower Reader (Part One)
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word count: 2,733
author’s note: i’m sorry that i didn’t post much stories, as I’ve been reblogging and changing themes in my profile. i’m trying my best, but I’ll make up for it.
warnings: incest, cockwarming, teasing, sucking, p in v, rough play, flirting, wholesome moment, jealous aemond, possessive, roughness, mild manhandling, mild degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, second hand embarrassment, dark content, mentions of su*cide, Aemond being too touchy with his aunt, degradation, humiliation.
summary: Aemond meets his aunt for the first time, and there’s more than meets the eye. (there will be three parts).
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There hasn’t been a day that you never left your homeland. All in prosperity. All in solitude, all in mindful thoughts that even the castle walls were unable to perceive. Oldtown is known for the oldest kingdom within Westeros.
We light the way, those are the words from House Hightower, a tall, silver tower with a green light of flames atop. Members of the Hightower court are known to be proud and resilience. Perhaps too greedy to your taste. Less fickle to their needs, their desires, their secrets, their ambition.
All minds think alike, as they said. But your mind is unalike from theirs.
There hasn’t been a single day where your life change—steady as it goes. But when your older sister, Alicent, sent a letter to you from a raven fled from miles, you instantly ripped the seal and unveiled her letters, written in neat cursive. In the days where you can recall that Alicent taught you to read and write, before accompanying your father, Otto Hightower, to aid the ailing king and his throne.
In King’s Landing, where Aegon has set and had trees felled after his conquest in Westeros. The stories of dragonlords and ladies has caught you into a slighted dot of peculiarity. But with your father, you knew that your father wanted more than being as the Hand of the King. Like any folk in Oldtown, he’s all in the same cloak of mind and heart as the rest. The only difference is he has resided in King’s Landing with the Targaryens, warming the throne with Alicent’s political stead.
With you, as Alicent’s half-sister, one thing you adored about her is her resilience, no matter how the power struggle may have been, Alicent held her head high, it inspired you to do the same cause, not for the greater good, but for you to steady your heart. With Alicent’s brown eyes, anyone would be easily swayed at her beauty. With your eyes like glowing water, the subjects were to assume that you’re either a sea creature in the ocean, or have been reincarnated as a woman. Common folks assumed that you’re a goddess sent by Maiden herself. But others theorized you’re born in the sacred pond within the forest.
Despite the nonsensical rumors, you carried out your duties dulled within life, but with your brother, Gwayne Hightower, entered in your chambers without a warning.
“Sister!”
“Good heavens, you gave me a fright,” you screeched, hand clutching over your chest.
“A word from the raven,” he resumed, pulling out the letter. “It’s from our dear sister.”
She hasn’t written you a letter for months. Understanding of her high authoritative position, thankfully enough you aren’t the queen. You couldn’t bear to think about gifting children into the world from your maidenhood.
“Alicent!” Departing from the chair, you snatched the letter from Gwayne’s hand and ripped the letter open, straightening the scrolled paper.
My dearest sister,
I regret to inform you that I cannot visit in the Oldtown due to personal circumstances that our father has been trifled with the matters in King’s Landing. As queen, I must fully prioritize my duties and smite the inconsiderate undutiful thought of others. My dear husband, King Viserys, has been unwell as of late, growing slower day by day, but still the same man who loves his histories and shed upon endless favoritism on his daughter and her plain-featured sons, as well his miniatures he rarely finished. As of this moment, we are preparing the feast for the upcoming celebration. Misery and dread and politics has been my company, and I’d be happy if you come to King’s Landing and stay here for more than a month. I also send Gwayne and his men to escort you back. I hope you still have the new dresses and jewels the seamstress sorted to your taste; I always know that you hated attire that itched your flesh or suffocating. Words cannot expressed about how I miss the sweetness of your smile and laughter. We shall meet soon.
Signed,
Alicent Hightower
Jumping with joy, your body lunged at Gwayne, locking him into a tight hug, slightly hopping in place with a big grin stretched onto your lips.
“Have my things ready, brother,” you said, hasting, forgetting about the silks and fabrics in your hands.
“But you need more time. You’ll stay in King’s Landing as our queenly sister instructed.”
“Send the maids, then. I can’t do this alone.”
“You mustn’t make haste!” Gwayne shouted as you ran off, never minding the silks on the ground only for him to pick up.
“The sooner the better,” you shouted back.
~~~
The trailed ship took no more than three days to reach King’s Landing. Alicent hasn’t mentioned anything particular to the celebration. But you have come to acknowledge that Alicent lessened the details.
By the time the ships rested at the shore, you rushed down to the clear path and greeted your father, who was rather cold and emotionless. Nevertheless, you gave the courtesy of shallow inclination of your neck bent down. Though your heart shattered at the motionless greeting; a chilled wind spiraled on your thickened sleeves.
“Father,” you said, grinning ear to ear.
“Queen Alicent awaits,” is all he said, then left without abiding on you.
“But—”
“Ser Gwayne, escort this lady in the Red Keep,” he wasn’t saying it with care.
This lady.
Months without communication and souvenirs, you’d ought it’ll soften your father’s resolve regarding onto the estrangement.
Another clash of heartbreak has struck again. But it comes as no surprise.
Both of you hadn’t spoke since of his second wife—your mother’s—passing.
As numb as it may be, the small pang in your heart resolved again as Gwayne Hightower escorted you to the high steeps close, reaching the royal grounds of Red Keep.
~~~
Infiltrating from climbing the steps until reaching the indoors, the green queen appeared.
Your sister.
“Alicent,” you rushed and clung her to embrace.
“Sister, how good of you to come,” Alicent replied.
The halls greeted you in cold and dreaded air clinging onto your sleeves, goosebumps flooded over your skin, the thick air of candles and torches has impaled your stomach. You didn’t like this feeling. These halls, darkened in heralds of statues and stars that your pupils recognizant.
Faith of the Seven.
Hightowers held their religion in the highest regard, while you, don’t cherish the ideologies of the religion, filled with fanaticism and hypocrisy. Even Targaryens have the queerest customs, of marrying brother to sister, relative to relative since Aegon I. It dire consequences of genetics and birth, and the fruition of a child birth into an unshakable world of politics and desires. According to the Citadel, in secret debate, those who are born of incest are nothing but sort of monsters lurking, a defect to a bloodline.
The Targaryens disagree—couldn’t care less, of course. As you often heard of keeping the bloodline pure.
Bloodline pure. People speculated that the Targaryens are closer to gods than men. Thus their words ‘Fire and Blood’ is in order. In Valyria, their source is magic and dragons, long before volcanic eruptions swept the lands and dragons into ashes. The last Targaryens resided in Westeros, and thus, their last kind is dwindling, hence creating pure bloodline. As theatrically hysterical as it is, you trudged along the halls.
“It has been so long since I saw you last,” Alicent began.
“It has, but we rarely sent letters as of late.”
“Being a queen is no simple task. Our father’s ambition has gotten stronger.”
“Your father,” you said bitterly.
“My dear sister,” Alicent resumed, her voice soothed. “Father is doing his best to stabilize the realm.”
“Cold, cruel and calculated,” you answered. “Your strength and dutiful as queen is one of the things I admire about you. But, sister, it feels as if my existence is no longer needed. I feel as if I’m useless. My mother received no love from your father.”
The doe-eyed look in Alicent’s eyes protruding. “Sister, I—“”
“Half-sisters,” you reminded. “Everyone thought I was some sort of creature that shouldn’t belong in the realm. I’m no fool; I could hear everyone whisper, even closed doors.”
“Creature or not, you’re still a Hightower. We share the same blood. Nothing will ever change between you and I.”
“But your father will never accept me,” you replied.
Alicent clasped her hands onto yours. “The next time we see each other, I’ll be visiting the Oldtown.”
“You said that the last time on our previous letters,” you chimed. “Let him stabilize the realm alone.”
“That is why you’re here. I needed time apart from the council and subjects,” Alicent reasoned. “Men are often ambitious with their politics and trifling over gold than their wives.”
“It appears so,” you agreed, huffing.
Ironically, Alicent served men, and still is. First Jahaerys, then Otto, then Viserys. Though you wouldn’t so recklessly give your personal opinion away to Alicent.
“We have yet to explore the grounds. We must rest at the gardens. I know how much you love staying in the gardens.”
Your cheeky smile was showing. “I do.”
Alicent squeezed your hand. “Let us be off. It’s considered bad luck if we let our food grow cold.”
“Never knew that it involves bad luck.”
“I’ve been told.”
“By who?”
Not once, Alicent answered.
~~~
“Make yourself comfortable,” Alicent said, indicating the spare chair, and watched you sat with ease, eyeing the lavish outdoors where the Weirwood stood as main view.
“Quite nice out,” you complimented.
This was Alicent meant when she said gardens.
“I chose this spot for a reason,” Alicent said as the servants settled the meal over the table—bowed and left. And the last servant entered, placing a stacked candied almonds and candied plums on a gold platter, alongside of Dornish wine.
Alicent watched your eyes lit up.
“I took the liberty of having the kitchen staff ready for your sweet-tooth,” she clarified.
“You know me well, sister.” You grinned.
“My lady,” a soothing masculine voice said behind you.
“Ser Criston,” Alicent addressed, glancing. “I’m occupied as of this moment.”
“There has been urgent matters regarding to your son.”
Puzzled, Alicent spoke with, “Which son?”
Appalled, your eyes darted at her. On the other hand, you never retain information from Alicent.
“Aegon,” Criston answered, eyes turning away. “I’m afraid his excursions have rather been…” Then his dark brown eyes flicked to yours, his mouth opened, choosing his words carefully.
“We’ll speak no more of it,” Alicent pleaded. “I’m under the liberty of entertaining my sister at the moment. Do ignore Aegon’s excursions for now.”
Somewhere in between the lines, you knew Alicent’s calm demeanor struck hard when the excursions take place, wrath kept within, as you read between Alicent’s lines furrowed on her forehead. Ser Criston glimpsed at you and bowed before withdrawing from the outdoors.
“My apologies,” Alicent said to you in a dreaded voice. “The excursions in the daylight hour upon King’s Landing hasn’t ended.”
“I never knew you had a son,” you said, munching on the candied almonds.
Alicent swallowed the contents of the food. “I mentioned it once before in the letter. That I was having a babe in my belly.”
You pondered for a moment. It was back when Alicent married Viserys and carried a child in her.
“But you never mentioned that it’s a son,” you commented.
“But I’m sure you heard Aegon’s name the moment he arrived into the world.”
Your teeth clenched. “I can assure you I did.” The Oldtown spoke of Aegon in high regards, but as you grew older, you never hear much of Aegon’s doings, hoping to meet your nephew, you waited, but as usual, you sister never once sent letters to offer you an invite.
“Things have been hectic for the past years, and I doubt that’ll cease. With the Iron Throne empty and with all that it stands, we’re keeping the place intact with politics and debate,” Alicent reasoned.
You stayed in silence.
“If you would like,” Alicent continued, “I would be happy to take you to the gallery. The Red Keep has been nothing but a dread. I shall escort you and give you a tour to the Red Keep unless you want someone else to—”
“No, I’d be thrilled if you were to accompany me,” you paused, then said, “sister.”
Alicent gently beamed at that.
~~~
When you and Alicent both went inside the Red Keep, the royal subjects and guards bowed before the green queen as their eyes lingered onto yours, and an incoherent of whispers were passed to your ears.
The sister of the green queen.
And as you ascended the staircases, from there, you saw the shaded eyes of violet and curled hair—a young girl, a few years younger than you.
“Mother, have you seen my—” The girl’s youthful stare darted to yours, backing away gradually.
“This is my sister, (y/n), your aunt,” Alicent introduced. “This is Princess Helaena, my daughter,” Alicent said to you.
“A pleasure.” As you made an inclination to your neck, smiling to the princess as you hadn’t realized that the others accompanied none other by two young men behind Helaena, both with Targaryen features.
Your heart stopped—leapt with warmth—when you first glanced at the tall prince with gold, lithe hair as his other eye covered with eyepatch.
“These are my other sons…” Alicent said, searching for the third son with a slight frown on her features. “Where is Aegon?”
“Drunk as usual,” Daeron rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.
“That blasted fool…” Alicent hissed, then smiled merrily in a way to appease herself. “I hope you and Lady (y/n) would get along.”
“Yes, I remember now! You’re that boy—that cupbearer in the council!” you said to Daeron.
Daeron beamed. “I am proud to serve my mother’s family in Oldtown. Ashamed we never met circumstances in the Reach, yet here we are!” he chuckled. “For my dear father’s name day contained in private ceremony, I’m glad you came.”
You sensed the sarcasm in the word “father”, but shrugged it off.
The dread of unwanted unwelcome washed away with glee. “Indeed. I shall look forward to the festivities.”
Aemond lifted and placed his kiss upon the back of your hand. A kiss placed with gentle fire ignited your dulled soul, envision with flames of blush blaring your dewy cheeks. “A pleasure to meet you, my lady.”
Breath caught in your throat, eyeing on his hand still lingering his intertwine fingers to your skin. “Likewise, my prince…”
For the first time in your life, the gentleness of a dragon has captured your heart and soul.
As for Aemond, with the slighted news of your presence, there’s nothing more than mere maiden who needs to be soiled with his perversions trapped and coiled and enflamed in between his legs. When he first laid his gaze on you, he pictured your flushed skin wrapped with his own, his lips captured yours as his presence trapped into your mind for eternity. But alas, with a wandering thought just now, it wasn’t like him. He mustn’t be capricious and avarice on the spot.
With your grand arrival, Aemond had already decided you’ll become his.
One day at the time, he reminded himself.
“It’s unusual for you to be courteous to someone,” Alicent commented.
“I never wish to scare anyone with my presence, mother,” Aemond said. “It is my duty as a prince to make our special guest comfortable.”
A hot tingle between your legs stirred as you eyed on him—on his lips—how rolled off words with his tongue, finding yourself imagining at the thought of your nephew tasting your folds as you ride him, warming the bed—riding him whilst lace and corset of your precious dress torn apart by his own rugged and young hands.
“He’s only being courteous like Prince Daeron,” you noted, clearing your throat. “Everyone must fulfill their role to the realm. We mustn’t decay our customs to rudeness.”
Aemond’s eye gleamed at your flushing features whilst you looked at Alicent in the eye, you speak with assurance yet your body wavered, dying for your hungered coil in you—the scorch caged within your dress to be set free.
You cannot fool me, my princess, he thought.
In the end, nobody can fool a dragon like him.
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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uvuyai · 3 months
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© uvuyai 2024
ძᥲᥡ 2 ~ һᥙmіᥣіᥲ𝗍і᥆ᥒ + 𝗍ᥡіᥒg ᥙ⍴ [EVENT]
Yandere! Blade x FEM! Reader
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–genre. Smut, nsfw
–tw. Blood, skin carving, humiliation, skin writing, non-con, creampie, sadist!blade, spanking, porn with plot(maybe), size difference, stomach bulge, choking, overstimulation, possessive behaviors, blade is called ren, mentions of the hard R in the beginning, neglect, degradation, reader is blades reincarnated lover, prone bone, MINORS DNI, non consensual touching, nipple play, SW and Kafka is helping blade, headlocking, dub-con, blood,
–synopsis. You've been kidnapped by the swordsman of the Stellaron Hunters and brought to their headquarters. It's Valentine's Day and he planned something special.
Mari/yai's message – just know i was very uncomfortable with writing this. I've been drawing lately so it's been a while.
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You were tied up in the basement of the Stellaron Hunters headquarters. You were just walking down the streets of luofu till you were grabbed into an alleyway and a cloth covering your mouth and then you inhaled chloroform, passing out into the person's(or thing) arm. When your captor brought you back to where they lived, they introduced themselves as Blade but he told you to call him ren.
Blade. As in the wanted criminal and part of the Stellaron Hunters?
After a while he got tired of your useless attempts at escaping (mostly snitched on by Kafka or Silverwolf by telling blade you escaped.), and then forcefully forced himself onto you. After that he left you.
He would come back occasionally if Kafka told him so if he didn't want you to die. He would bring you clothes and food to keep you alive and helped you take care of your hygiene. You didn't eat in front of him and just pretend to be asleep most of the time in the corner of the mattress.
You tried talking to him but couldn't since your stuttering held you back and you couldn't make eye contact with him since he fiery red eyes would stare into your soul, stunning it immediately.
He brought you stuff like a note book to draw or use it as a diary. Since you barely could get your words out, you wrote ‘Why did you kidnap me?’ on a page. He only muttered the word “Lover” and left it at that.
Well today was Valentine's day as you'd know by the calendar beside your bed. You still didn't love him or let yourself develop Stockholm Syndrome. If you could tell, he hated it.
You behaved well for the days, months, or even years he captured you. He let you out of your ropes and lets you walk around the basement. Various furniture was added like a desk that faced a window(that was very hard to break), a bed set, and a built in shower.
Silver Wolf gave the glory to Blade that he can have one of her old games but he decided to give it to you so you wouldn't be as bored when he went.
Kafka came down and called out for you. You raised your head from your pillow and looked at her with sleepy doe eyes. “C'mon dearie, Blade will be home soon and he has something planned for you.” she grabbed your forearm and dragged you to the bathroom and ran you a bath as if you were her child. She helped you shave your legs(and everywhere else including pubic) and did your hair into something simple. She gave you pink Valentine's Day themed lingerie undergarments to put underneath the white lace night gown.
You wished you knew why Blade suggested Kafka to give you this. The clothes fit you nicely. Your mind was all over the place as you thought about how Blade got the correct measurements of your bra and panties.
Kafka led you out of the bathroom and back to your bed and went back up stairs and came back down with a low black gift box. She skied the top off the box to reveal red ribbons. The box was branded so it must've been from a sex store or somewhere that was expensive. You thought it was for your hair otherwise it's weird to come in a box like that.
Kafka placed her hands behind her back and closed her eyes and let out a pitiful sigh. “I'm sorry, dear.” Before you could turn around something rough and hard hit the back of your head. It put you to sleep on impact.
She dragged your body to your bed and threw you on your bed, grabbing the ribbon and tied it tightly around your legs and wrist. The extras went around your waist and torso. You were truly a beautiful doll. She wrapped soft cloth around your mouth and eyes. Just breathe through
She left the room and as if on cue, Blade stepped through the door. In his deep voice, he spoke. “Did you do what I asked?” Kafka nodded her head and gave off her signature smile. “I did but I had to neutralize her because she was struggling too much for my comfort.” she was obviously lying. He could obviously tell too.
He stepped his way to the basement where you were. He heard distant whimpering and sobs which were coming from you. He reached you and noticed your squirming. Your breath hitched as you heard boots stepping your way. The ribbons were hurting way too much to even ignore for a bit.
“Hey waterlily, It's really disappointing how you didn't behave for her.” he breathed. “You should be punished for that. I see she did most of the work.” you heard something slam on the nightstand next to your bed.
He hooked his finger underneath the blindfold to reveal your doe stricken eyes.
His lips lifted into a smirk while he trailed his bandaged fingers from your face to your collarbone. He noticed your squirming got more vapid. You shook your head as you didn't want him to continue.
His hand ripped the strap that was holding the gown, revealing your covered breast. Your face felt as if it was burning from embarrassment. He pushed you onto your back and got on top of you. Your muffled protests became unheard as he grabbed scissors and cut the straps from your bra, removing it, and revealing your tits.
“You look like a slut... Begging for someone's attention.” he laughed. “That someone's attention you want is me.” he dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a knife and a permanent marker.
He slid the knife down your torso, the force was enough for it to draw blood. He leaned down and lapped at the blood while maintaining eye contact with you. Tears ran down your face and dried ones were replaced.
He fully discarded your dress and panties and threw them somewhere on the bed or ground. He used his gloved hand to finger you. Your slick immediately gathering on his hand. “Has all this fear got to you? I would've mistaken you for being a masochist, y'know.”
He unbuckled his pants and slid down his boxers that revealed his large, thick throbbing dick. It was flushed red at the tip and a white bead of precum was drooling from the slit. He thrusted two fingers into your cunt. He wanted to prep you since it's been a while since he had done anything with you. The stimulation was overwhelming. You desperately tried to kick him away but he grabbed your waist and replaced his finger with his dick rubbing against your pussy. Your juices covered the downside of his dick.
He leaned back to position his dick between your pussy lips. He thrusted up into your pussy, hitting your spongy spot on impact. A little blood covered his dick as well. A bulge would pop up with each thrust of his hips. Your scream was muffled and you leaned your head back on the pillow. You were biting at the cloth that was covering your mouth. It was covered in your saliva as well.
Blade hooked a finger underneath the cloth and pulled it down. Your breathing was harsh in a way that if it was cold, air would come from your mouth. As his thrusts started to pick up and your juices webbed his whole dick, he picked the knife back up and started to engrave a letter below your tits. The letter was his initial, the letter ‘B’. The icy hot pain was all over your body(it wasn't but it felt like it but mainly between your thighs), Blade licked the blood up, enjoying the metallic iron taste from it. His dick landed painful hits to your cervix, making you grimace at the feeling.
During that, yelps, whines, and moans were heard through the basement. If you were loud enough, Kafka and Silver Wolf would hear.
His thrust got more erratic. His thrusts were sure that by the time he finished your pussy would be gapping open and molded into the shape of his cock. You tried to cover your moans by turning your head to the side and trying to muffle them as much as possible. Blade was quick to grab your face, squishing your cheeks together as he got up in your face while looking at your unfocused eyes filled with tears. He trailed his eyes down back to where he drew the letter below your tits.
He slowly itched a small cross(which was a plus sign,) and after a while, he carved your first name initials after. It looked like those cheesy trends where it shows what initials are meant to be for example; B + Y. He did all of this while keeping his thrusts while you squirted your juices onto his lower abdomen and cock. He grabbed the permanent marker and drew a small heart around the heart.
He grabbed you by the shoulders and squished you against his chest. He rocked his hips back and forth and wrapped his arm around your waist to keep you steady. “You are such a slut. Nothing but my cum dump.” The cold permanent marker touched your skin, sending shivers down your spine and to your core. He wrote a few words like “CUMDUMP”, ”SLUT”, and “Blades/ren's property” on your back. He placed a few humiliating words on your collarbone so anyone could see it and also remind him what you are to him.
You pussy clenched around his dick, signaling your. “You wanna cum, yeah? Then cum. Cum for me.” he said between grunts. Your string of moans and mewls of being overstimulated, he released his cum inside you. Your stomach was slightly bloated and thick, sticky cum leaked out of your cunt and onto the bedsheets(it had little bubbles in them and stuck together like a spider web).
Blade was quick to flip you onto your stomach with your ass in the air. He grabbed the knife and released your wrist from the ropes binding them together. Your wrists were finally able to breathe. His rough hands grab at your wrist, pulling them to make you arch your back further.
He angled his cock back at your entrance, pushing his hips forward and his cum and your juices acting together as a secondary lube. The movement of his hips grew faster as time passed.
He leaned down to where his chest was touching your back. He resumed his torcher and thrust into you so hard he could break into your cervix and split you apart. His hand snaked up to your neck, squeezing it slightly so it wasn't hard enough to stop your breath. He used it to angle your head so he could kiss you. You moaned into his mouth and drooled all over his tongue.
His thrust started to get sloppy and he felt your breath get harsher from you breathing through your mouth. He wrapped both of his thick bulging arms around your neck, placing you in a loose headlock. A hand slipped down and tugged at your nipple. You released the kiss as you tried to get your breath back by sticking your tongue out. He placed a loud smack on your ass which made you come on his dick, stunning you.
He came inside you for the second time. You don't know how long he'll be doing this for as you feel his dick hardened inside you.
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;(
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coralinnii · 5 months
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Congrats for reaching 2.7k followers !! Do you think you could do either Silver or Sebek (or both if it’s not too much >_<) for the Villain/ess AU? Again, congrats!!!🎉🍾🎈🎊
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‧₊˚✧Being Reincarnated into a New World as the Bad Guy‧₊˚✧
↳ villain/ess au series
feat: Silver ❋ Sebek genre: enemies(?)-to-something more Silver ver, comrades-to-something more Sebek ver., slow burn romance,  note: no pronouns used, prejudice against humans, reader is a fae in Silver ver., reader is a human in Sebek vers., Sebek’s reader is just done with Lilia’s shenanigans, set in the same universe as Malleus' and Lilia's ver. but not necessarily simultaneously,
Villain/ess au masterlist 2.7k followers writing event
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If you look past the whole…absurdity that is being reincarnated into a dating simulation of your previous world, you'd say you hit the jackpot here.
You suddenly found yourself as a minor antagonist who was supposed to be love obstacle to one of the popular targets of the game, the venerable Dragon Fae King Malleus Draconia. As such, you became a stereotypically beautiful but unbelievably vain fae character of high social standing, an antithesis to the lovable and modest main protagonist. 
The heroine can have the dragon king, you thought. You’ll just dab away your tears while you bathe in luxury.
If you could have one complaint…it would probably be your “original” personality. 
You and your family were infamous for their stance against mixing with humans. Coming from a long line of pure fae blood, your original character held hostility over “pathetic parasites leeching off the purity of the faes.” 
Oooff, what a piece of work you apparently were. 
It was this prejudice that your family demanded the engagement between you and Malleus, and the reason for the vicious treatment of the main heroine…which inevitably led to the loss of your golden spoon, and imprisonment of you and your family. 
Oh, screw that! Absolutely not! 
Thus began the start of your total image revamp. You were going to prove that you definitely won’t be an obstacle for the unity of human-fae harmony, or if the dragon king were to suddenly bring a human as his consort-to-be. 
But sadly it was easier said than done. 
“What is that person doing here?” 
The patrolling knights whispered to themselves as they narrowed their gaze towards your back. Their searing glares felt burning to your very being, but you smiled through it as you carried a large basket of goodies.
“I wish to do my part as a noble and help sponsor this orphanage, and I brought some sandwiches if the children would like some.” 
“Hah! Do you even realize what kind of orphanage this is?” One of the knights sneered at you. This was one of the few shelters that was willing to house human children that turned up in the forest near the kingdom’s borders, often abandoned and left to perish if not for the Vanrouge family who founded this orphanage. 
Unfortunately, the duke family is its only sponsor as prejudice still runs strong in many noble families, yours included. 
“I’m aware, and I want to assist with the upkeep of this orphanage.” You asserted your stance. “I understand that the Vanrouge family is very busy so I volunteer my assistance since my manor is close.” 
Many of the knights aren’t convinced. They stood in the way of the orphanage as though they’re guarding from someone dangerous. Some tried to whisper stealthily amongst each other but your fae ears could pick up their words.
“This is probably a cruel trick.” “Maybe the food is poisoned.” “How terrible.” 
“If you gentlemen would like, you are free to try some of the sandwiches.” You offered kindly, but your smile was strained and your fingers tight around the basket’s handles. 
You expected this, but the building frustration and humiliation is hard to suppress. You knew your family’s reputation precedes you and their doubts are valid, but to suspect that you are some sort of monster who could harm children for simply being human? You would never, how could they…
“Thank you for such kindness, your grace.”
Your bitter spiral broke at the sound of a clear voice, strong but warm at the same time. A hand reached out to pick out a small sandwich, which your gaze followed to meet a pair of the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen. 
To the shock of the other knights, this man unhesitantly took a large bite of the handmade sandwich, then cleanly finished it in a few more bites. His auroral eyes shone with such warmness as he thanked you once more. “It was delicious.”
“Silver, careful!” The knight called out to the mysterious man before you. “You shouldn’t trust anything from that snake-“ 
“Hold your tongue, sir.” Despite showing nothing but kindness before, the fair-haired knight was quick to sternly reprimand his comrade before he turned to you to bow his head. “I apologize for my comrade’s rude behavior. I will accept any punishment in his stead.” 
Flustered, you replied quickly. “Please think nothing of it! I know of my family’s… notoriety, so I understand the suspicions you and your knights have.” 
“I’d rather judge someone by their actions rather than their family.” He smiled, and you swore your heart nearly stopped for a moment. What an unfairly beautiful man, you thought. 
Like a practiced knight, the beautiful man offered you a hand. “Allow me to carry the basket for you. The children will be excited to see a new face.” 
Wordlessly, you gave the basket to him and proceeded to walk towards the orphanage, ignoring the stunned faces of the speechless men, not that you cared to acknowledge them anymore. Afterall, your attention has been stolen by this mysterious man next to you. 
You were surprised how such a handsome and kind man liked him to show up. The way the other knights were quick to obey him, he was probably of higher standing or reputation. From his visuals to his manners, you thought he was definitely target route material. So, what was he doing as a minor NPC? 
“What was his name? Silver? Was there a character like him in the main story?” You racked your brain for an answer. Surely a catch like him wouldn’t be left in the sidelines, unless…
As though one of Malleus’ lightning struck you, your body broke out in cold sweat as you finally recognized the suspiciously attractive knight beside you. 
Silver, one of Malleus’ most trusted knights and the heroine’s closest friend in Malleus’ route. Believed to hold unrequited love for the protagonist, he swore to protect her, and eventually helped to capture and prosecute the love rival’s family for their wrongdoings. 
In short, this good-looking man will be responsible for sending you to jail for bullying his one-sided love.  
Oh, fu-
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Was this punishment for making fun of your friend for liking this dumb dating sim game? If it was, this is a bit much, isn’t it? The muscles in your body screamed for mercy as day after day, you were put through hellish training, stared down by an unmoving commander.
You vaguely remembered the plot of the story, but couldn’t figure out who you were, or if you were of any significance to the plot. For all you know, you were some human soldier for the fae kingdom, currently going through hell.
As a commoner human amongst fae, you were treated with jeers and insults from your so-called comrades. Some of your peers were more affable but there were some poorly made characters clearly just there to make your life miserable.
“Is this my villain arc? Is that it?” But you were barely above it all, since the soldier’s pay was decent, and all the school-ground taunts were easy to ignore. Honestly, there was only one person that really grinds your gears. 
“You are insulting Lord Malleus’ great name if this is all you can do!” 
That loud voice, now unmistakable to you, belonged to the obnoxious soldier Sebek Zigvolt who seems to live off proving his worth to the king of this kingdom. 
“The goal was to do 100 push-ups, and that’s what I did.” 
“Hah, that is mere child-play. I can go on for a hundred more!” If you have to give him something, he puts his money where his mouth is as the green-haired man then proceeded to continue on with the workout. 
Be it a cruel joke or karma from your past life, you became partners with this loudmouth half-fae. The commander, Duke Vanrouge reasoned that it was to learn comradery and to balance each other’s flaws, but you suspect that there was more to it. But screw it, you don’t have the energy to pursue the real reason. 
And so, you were stuck in this partnership/rivalry with Malleus’ most loyal soldier. 
“We’re wasting time, weak human!” 
You should get a hearing check after this, as you were unfavorably close to your partner, who despite telling him to stay quiet, continues to scream right into your ear. 
“The course just started, you lousy crocodile.” You sighed as you knew Sebek wasn’t happy when you forced him to hide in the large grass. 
As a surprise, your division was given a training course with color-coordinated powder pellets and painted rubber blades as ammo. The goal was to find and strike as many painted targets in the forest, with you and the other soldiers included as targets. 
In addition to the stationary targets, it meant that you had to look out for other soldiers to target you for points. Fair enough, but while the instructions were straightforward, the one who devised this course was the Duke Vanrouge. 
“I don’t trust a single thing that old fart comes up with.” You mumbled as you surveyed the scene. You expected traps, decoys, even surprise bears to jump up out of the blue, because anything is possible with the eccentric former general. 
Then, a rustle from afar. 
Before you could react, Sebek was quicker as he wrapped his arm from behind you, pushing you down with him as a pellet burst with colored powder above you. You heard cursing and more rustling from a close distance. 
“Watch your surroundings, human!” Your green-haired yelled at you, as he effortlessly pulled you to your feet. The way he scanned your person, you almost made the mistake to think he was worried about you and you almost felt warm over that non-existent concern. 
Both of you perked up to the sound of footsteps and turned to another pair of soldiers in front of you. To your luck, there were some of the soldiers that often taunted you. 
“Hah, it’s the halfling and the leech.” The soldier sneered and started to run towards the two of you, using the course as an excuse for violence. 
“Hmph, you’re no match for me.” But before Sebek could charge, you pulled him back with all your strength. It causes the tall soldier to stumble back and lean onto you, your hands on his chest and waist. You didn’t take notice, but Sebek felt a startlingly warm sensation with his heightened senses feeling your closeness to his sturdy figure, his skin burning where your hands lay flat on him.
“W-What are you doing, human! How dare you-“ 
Yells interrupted Sebek’s embarrassed tirade as the two foolish soldiers disappeared, with a large hole in front of you and Sebek. Cautiously, you stepped towards the manmade hole to see your “comrades,” bruised but alive for the most part. 
“Pit traps… should have known that the commander would pull some looney tune crap.” Pulling out a few pellets, you threw it straight at the trapped men and dusted them with your color. “Man, that’s cathartic.” 
You turned to your partner, who was staring at the pit which he nearly ran straight into. You were worried that the prideful half-fae was actually scared before he scared you instead with revigored energy. 
“Of course, the great Lilia would challenge us to the fullest. I will not fail his faith in us!” He then sharply looked to you with a satisfied smirk. “Impressive, human. I commend your sharp eye, but I will not fall for such traps from now on!” 
“Pfft, what was I thinking he’d be scared?” You thought, chuckling to yourself. It just wasn’t Sebek to back out of a challenge regardless of how insane or stupid it was. This training course was no better than a paintball game, but the straightforward Sebek would give his all no matter what. 
“It’s almost cute.” Keeping that last tidbit to yourself, you started walking towards your partner. “Well, let’s keep going. Like you said, we’re wasting time.” 
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reiniesainyo · 3 months
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IN BETWEEN. charlie bushnell x reader – 02
02 | WELCOME TO NY previous | next | masterfile
SYNPOSIS. when a girl's co-star is good to her and now she wants it more than everything in between. (smau)
A/N. wow actual content who knew! i give some tidbits about rina and lukes dynamic as well for funsies (takes place at the start of the season premiere to probably episode 4-5 ish)
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liked by iamcharliebushnell, walker.scobell, and 322,778 others thelnarchive best people to star in my first show with actually
walker.scobell pov: you at the end of this sentence 🤓👆 ↳ thelnarchive that** ↳ leahsavajeffries destroyed him with one word that's insane
user1 she's so gorgeous it's killing me
user2 her photo dumps are so cute it's so RAHHHHH ↳ user3 thank you yn for keeping us fed
iamcharliebushnell no photo creds? thats crazy...... ↳ thelnarchive 📸: charlie bushnell  ↳ iamcharliebushnell thank you 😁
user4 she's so pretty, i would go to hell and back for her. she could be sent to the underworld and i would go and traverse the entire underworld for her and bring her back, have hades let me walk out with her only if i don't turn my back and bet you baby i'm no orpheus because you're coming home ↳ user5 this is so real but also what the fuck
dior.n.goodjohn PRETTIEST IN CAMP HALFBLOOD ↳ thelnarchive NO YOU!
iamcharliebushnell for everyone's information, she yapped for like the 2 hour makeup and hair session ↳ thelnarchive you weren't interested in the cultural impact of feminist retellings of mythology? 😔 ↳ iamcharliebushnell i didn't say i didn't listen to every bit
user6 yn ln being a yapper and charlie being a listener was not in my 2024 bingo card but it is pleasantly accepted ↳ user7 the chemistry is kind of crazy
bellie 💋 @G1LLMOREGRLS theres like less than 3 minutes of luke and rina screen time but the way they look at each other is insane. ik luke visiting rina before leaving was implied and like them him contacting her even after the attempt too i still want to see some because the potential angst is so insane 🗨 19 comments 🔁 129 retweets ❤️ 707 likes
user1 "i lost luke three times in my life." if they remove this it better be for something even more heartbreaking
user2 honestly truth i'm manifesting so hard to see some of their iris messages like i can just imagine it ↳ G1LLMOREGRLS oh my fucking god that's so true, i want to see luke begging her to come with him and then her begging him to change his mind
user3 i want the new seasons to come sooner because i trust in rick's capability to give us what we want 💳💳💳 ↳ user4 i trust in the editor's to make what rick gives us even better brah ↳ user5 what if i said lascotellan to a hozier song
user6 the show ate with levitating as the replacement for poker face in e6 so i'm expecting a tragic song for their scenes too ↳ G1LLMOREGRLS dare i say we get a scene of luke regretting his actions juxtaposed with a scene of him and rina arguing with her telling him to silver springs by fleetwood mac ↳ user6 LUKE AND RINA ARGUING OVER HIS ACTIONS TO SILVER SPRINGS. YOU'RE A FUCKING GENIUS OOMF ↳ G1LLMOREGRLS luke thinking about her constantly when he thinks abt why he shouldn't have done it is so "you'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you"????
user7 YOU'RE SO CORRECT FOR THIS ‼️‼️ i'm so insane over them, tragic greek couple of the century
user8 i fear no one will ever beat rina saying she wanted to go to the underworld to get him back but deciding not to and letting him repent in elysium or try for reincarnation
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liked by thelnarchives, dior.n.goodjohn, and 350,232 others iamcharliebushnell hanging out with the muse
thelnarchives you call me "the muse" so often i'm starting to think you don't know my first name anymore.... 🤨🤨🤨 ↳ iamcharliebushnell 😔 i would never do that to you muse ↳ thelnarchives i'm gonna start calling you traitor. ↳ user1 wat why would she call him traitor ↳ user2 oh you sweet summer child
user3 picture 3 is so cute i love her so much !!! and charlie's there too i guess
dior.n.goodjohn why are you hanging out with MY girlfriend ↳ iamcharliebushnell you snooze you lose :/
walker.scobell you owe me like 2 meals from our past bets and you keep saying your busy but obviously you're not??? ↳ iamcharliebushnell hanging out with the muse is a trip priority, man 🤷
user4 i'm obsessed with how charlie calls her muse they're so i want to Bite them. ↳ user5 he ate with the pet name
user6 that's actually me in the second photo guys
user7 WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT HER HAND PLACEMENT IN THE THIRD PHOTO??? ↳ user8 girlie's just scratching her own cat
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kandlewick · 7 months
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i'll dry the villain's tears
t h e r o s e r e d t y r a n t ' s m o t h e r
you get reincarnated into a role that became the breaking point of the villain's story and you, be it an unwillingness to cause them harm or a desire to survive, must work hard to make sure they grow into a better (or at least safer) person.
You had died.
at least, you think you did.
It was hard to remember much.
Blinding lights, fading screams, it all felt so fuzzy and distant that you could hardly even remember your old face. The new one staring back at you was strange and foreign and perfect; it was almost like you were staring into the eyes of a doll. You pressed a well manicured nail to your cheek, feeling the soft skin give underneath your touch. So this is what she looked like. Bright red hair and piercing silver eyes, Riddle's mother made for an intimidating figure. You could only imagine how wicked she would look when angry despite her pretty looks.
You let out a soft sigh, leaned back against your chair, and attempted a smile at your reflection. The muscles around your cheeks creaked in protest at the attempt and gave you little more then a grimace.
"Not one for smiling, are you Mrs. Rosehearts?"
Well, whatever sickness that had overtaken the former Mrs. Rosehearts seemed to have passed and you no longer needed constant supervision from whoever Riddle had called for. Speaking of, where was Mr. Rosehearts? Surely her husband must've been worried sick once he had heard his wife had collapsed.
After a few moments of pondering, idly rummaging through drawers and inspecting every nook and cranny of what you assumed to be your new bedroom, you quickly discovered there was only a wardrobe for one. How strange. As you continued digging through your new and incredibly modest clothes, your hunt for clues was quickly interrupted by a sharp knock at your door. You dropped everything and let out a quiet shriek, feeling what felt like your heart quickly jumping in to your throat at the surprised new guest. Imwardly, you had to remind yourself that you were in fact, not snooping! This was your stuff now and could look through it all you liked. Quickly patting down your clothes and pinning back your frazzled hair, you attempted to compose yourself and cleared your throat, quietly acknowledging their presence.
"Uhm - yes! You may come in."
Whoever stood out your door seemed almost hesitant, waiting at the door long enough for the silence to slowly grow awkward, before the door let out a small click and they entered.
It was Riddle.
"I finished my lesson for the afternoon." Riddle spoke quietly, eyes never leaving the space behind your head, as if too nervous to even look at you, "If you would allow me, I'd like to take a small break to rest my eyes."
Here it was! Your moment! You had dreamed of this since the beginning and you could finally, finally make a difference and fix the broken relationship between him and his mother!! You eagerly turned towards him, feeling your skirt pick up in your excitement and ducked down, balancing your weight on the balls of your feet and lowering yourself down to his level.
"Actually, Riddle, how would you like it if we took a break together. I made us some tea!" You smiled, eyes crinkling in delight, "And then after that we-"
"No, thank you."
Eh.
What a quick response!!!!
Blinking past the surprise, you were startled to notice that Riddle had taken a few steps back, his eyebrows knitted together in what almost looked like confusion. You could feel the apprehension and barely disguised fear roll off of him in waves as he opened his mouth to continue.
"It's not time for a tea and I'd much rather get back to my studies as soon as possible.."
Yes, you supposed it was rather late in the evening for a tea time but it couldn't be that bad to take a small break to unwind after a tiring afternoon, surely! Bu then again, you realized, Riddle's mother always enforced a strict schedule. There was no time for snack breaks or play time, everything was chosen for him down to the very last millisecond of his day. Breaking this trend would not be an easy task. Mrs. Rosehearts made sure of that.
"Ah, you're right! Silly me..." You took this moment to reach out, intending to push back a stray hair from Riddle's face but he flinched. It was hardly noticeable and honestly, if you weren't down at his level and painfully aware of every twitch and fidget, you wouldn't have noticed but still, you felt your heart break a little more.
"Yes... It must be the fever." You sighed out, lowering your hand before slowly putting it back in your lap, "I must still feel tired after being in bed the past few days. Being stuck in my room must've made me a little mad."
Riddle made no effort to respond, only slowing raising his head. When his silver eyes met yours, you smiled and kept his gaze, "Would you do me a favor then, Riddle? I'm feeling terribly lonely and would like the company... however," You had to give him the option, "if you'd rather end your studying for the day and choose yourself what you'd like to do until your bedtime, you're more then welcome to."
As much as you wanted to quickly mend the relationship between the two of you, you knew you could not rush it. Years of abuse and tyranny do not go away with a single good deed and the more you tried to force it, the more you guessed he would push away.
Riddle paused and searched your eyes, looking for any signs of this being a test. He seemed almost hesitant to even ponder the choices before him as if he had never made his own decision before - with his mother's blessing no less - and wasn't eager to start now.
"I won't be upset, Riddle. You c-"
"I would like to have tea with you, please."
You mentally fist bumped the air, tears of success running down your face. Progress! This was progress, right? Willingly getting him to break his rigid schedule was already a huge undertaking but getting him to choose to spend time with you? You could practically hear the angels singing in your head.
Getting him to slowly and comfortably break his schedule was one thing but his diet? That was a whole other trauma to fight and you didn't know where to start. Unlike Riddle's mother, you weren't a doctor. Your knowledge of what was healthy and what was not and how to balance calories was never something you were taught past the very basics. Smugly, you figured she wasn't any good at it either so really, it could only get better.
It started with little things, replacing what kinds of ingredients you used and portions and the like and you spent many a nights on Magicam, researching food trends and advice from dieticians and other mothers. Anonymously, of course.
If Riddle noticed the change in his diet, he made no attempt to question you about it, probably enjoying whatever you were doing enough not to bring it up. You were his mother after all and although the dinner table was still quiet between the two of you, it was a more comfortable silence as if you were both too worried to break it. Watching him eat was also a treat. You had always thought Riddle was a pretty child, but to see sparks of life flicker behind his trained expression was a victory you always cherished. Sometimes it was small things, like him kicking his feet or the shock of trying a new taste. It was precious, watching him slap his palm to his face as he jumped in his chair, eyes practically tearing up at the taste of pepper of all things.
And then, one day, you decided that perhaps it was time. A strawberry tart.
You paced in your bedroom for days, practically digging holes into the floor as you plotted your next big move. This moment was perhaps the most important of all the other events that had happened in Riddle's life and you knew it was going to be a real big hurdle to cross.
"Riddle?"
He perked up slightly from his desk at the sound of your voice and turned to look at you. His eyes were brighter now and they no longer had the same fear they once had. His gaze could almost be described as affectionate.
"Yes?"
"I'm going to be out for awhile. not for too long mind, but I have something very important I need to do. I'm sure you don't mind if I leave you to yourself for a short while?" You gave him a sheepish smile as you made your way to the front door, your hand already reaching for the handle. As much as you wanted to do this and get it over with, you could still feel the nerves biting at your ankles.
Riddle nodded his head, his red hair practically bouncing with the movement, before returning to his studies while you closed the front door behind you, breath heavy in your throat. Days of planning were all coming together. You could feel the sweat building up and running down your neck as you took a few simple breathes to calm your racing heart.
Some might consider it obsessive but you had carefully studied That particular bakery and it's foot traffic to ensure that nobody else would be in the store to witness what was about to happen for the past two weeks. In disguise, you had watched and written down the hours there was a slow lull in visitors from out in the streets, careful not to attract any sort of attention. It's not like you were planning anything nefarious! It's just that... the thought of anyone witnessing the verbal smack down you were about to receive was almost too much. But you had to do this. For Riddle, for yourself, and because you really, really, really wanted to try one of Clover Bakery's sweets.
It was time.
"Welcome in! Welcome to Clover Bakery! I'll be right with you in a moment!" A feminine voice sounded like it was in the back as the door to the bakery slowly chimed behind you, as if it was the death knell, signaling your demise. You trained your breath, in and out, and wiped your sweaty palms on the back of your skirt, willing yourself to calm down. You had to be strong! Trey and both his parents deserved a proper apology, even if technically you weren't the one who offended them. You had to fix this mess and you couldn't do it half assed!
"Sorry about that! We just finished the new batch of - oh."
Trey's mother was in front of you.
Trey's Mother was in front of you.
"I..." Your heart felt like it was going to give out. "I've come to apologize."
That obviously is not what she was expecting and judging by the widening of her eyes and the tightening of her posture, she didn't seem entirely willing to accept it but she stood there and didn't seem unwilling to hear you out so in your haste, you tripped over your words in eagerness to continue.
"Please," You lowered your head and gaze, nearly buckling under the stress, "at least hear me out. What I did - to you, your husband, your son, to Riddle - It was unacceptable."
You gulped and began the part you had rehearsed in front of your mirror. This part, while not necessarily the truth, would make the most sense.
"When I couldn't find Riddle in the room where I left him and the window opened, I panicked. I had always been very strict with Riddle and perhaps that's where I erred, where he thought that the only choice he had to enjoy an inch of freedom was to sneak out while I was unaware, So, when I couldn't not find him and found him with strangers, people I had never met before and knew very little of, I panicked."
"But what I ended up doing," Something wet fell from your eyes, "I hurt him. I hurt Riddle. I - I think that's what snapped me out of whatever idiotic beliefs I had. He wouldn't talk to me, he couldn't even meet my eyes-"
"I understand,"
Blinking past the tears, you looked up, watching as Trey's mother let out a long and weary sigh, "I may not forgive you for what you did yet, I can see you obviously mean what you're saying."
"You can?"
"Look at you. You're shaking like a leaf, you look nothing like the woman that came screaming in here for her son. Whatever happened between then and now obviously changed things."
You watched as she ducked behind the counter and wrapped something up in a small container and gestured for you to open your hands.
"Here," She closed your hands around it, "It's a strawberry tart. Those were Riddle's favorite right? I'm sure you can help mend whatever happened with something like this. It's on the house. Just... next time Riddle wants to play, let him. My son has been beside himself with worry ever since."
You held the tart close to your chest like she had just handed you the most precious thing you've ever owned and nodded your head, your once formerly primed and proper hair falling down your shoulders in wave from your excitement, "Thank you! Thank you so much... I will do whatever I can now. I won't make the same mistake again."
"Go on," You smiled, "Open it."
As soon as you returned home, you eagerly called for Riddle to join you at the family table, nearly tripping over your heels in your excitement as you carefully placed the boxed strawberry tart down. Riddle watched your expression carefully, eyeing the concealed treat from the corner of his eye. As much as he's enjoyed the past few months, this was a huge step forwards. It was almost as if he was scared that what he thought was going to happen wouldn't. What if this was an elaborate scheme? What if this was a big final test and he failed? What if-
"It's ok, Riddle," You reassured him with a low voice, pushing the small box closer to him as his eyes snapped to meet yours, "It's something really good, I promise." With a nervous look, he nodded.
You could hear his barely contained sniffles as he slowly began untying the ribbon, stopping periodically to wipe at his eyes with his sleeve, before the box opened and in the center was
the most beautiful strawberry tart he has ever seen.
His small sniffles soon erupted into wails, high pitched and heart wrenching as he sat there in his chair, his hands still in the air as his little body was wracked with tears. You couldn't hold back your own crying as you brought Riddle's small frame to your chest and hugged him tightly as he cried and cried and cried in your arm. His little fingernails dug crescents into your skin as he kept tugging you closer and closer, unwilling for there to be an space between you and him.
"My darling, Riddle," You sniffled back a tear as you dug your face into his red hair, feeling him hiccup and sob as you did the same, "I'm sorry you had to wait so long."
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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youtube
Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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