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#which they depict it as a twisted love of sorts and i loved that…
velsatelier · 3 months
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giving in
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draconic-desire · 4 months
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A Dance With the Dragon II — Mates
Yandere Neuvillette x Reader
[Part I] [Part II — You are here] [Part III] [Part IV]
Neuvillette brings you to your new “home”, which also comes with new challenges.
Warnings: Emotional manipulation, forced imprisonment, Neuvillette accidentally goes a little feral here, brief non-con at the end
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One of the first things Neuvillette did was move you from the apartment at the Palais Mermonia (your prison for the past four centuries) to his personal residence. Securing his palms to your waist, he teleported you directly into the foyer of the massive home.
The interior was splashed with blues and whites that matched the Chief Justice’s own color palette. The upper walls were decorated with friezes depicting various marine creatures, from floating otters (how ironic) to bobbing seahorses. A grand spiral staircase led to the upper floor, while a set of double French doors connected the foyer to a massive living room adorned with plush love seats and armchairs, tasteful artwork of Fontainian landscapes, and enormous windows that overlooked the sea. It appeared the house was set into a cliffside, with the waves battering the rocks far beneath you.
You paced into the living room, running your hand along the blue silk couch cushions. To your left, a door led out to what appeared to be an inclosed courtyard with a miniature fountain. To the right was a closed door, a familiar dragon carved into its exterior. Your arm burned in resonance.
Though you were loathe to admit it, the place was beautiful.
“Do you like it?”
Shifting your gaze to him, it was clear that Neuvillette was desperate for your approval. Ever since he let you outside to discover the true length of your imprisonment, you had rarely spoken a word to him. Clearly, your silence had done a number on him, as the normally composed man was fidgeting nervously.
When you kept quiet, Neuvillette cleared his throat. “I admit, part of why things took so long was due to my insistence that everything be perfect for your arrival. I rearranged our bedroom perhaps a dozen times, and I couldn’t for the life of me decide what your personal room should entail.” When you glanced out towards the fountain, he coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, that was a…sentimental addition. It makes me think of how we met.”
You’d never forget that Archons-damned fountain. If only you hadn’t been so naive. Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, go away.
Neuvillette extended his palm towards you in what appeared to be both a peace offering and an order. “Shall I give you a tour?”
Suddenly your feet appeared very interesting. What were you supposed to say? This technically was your home now, like it or not. You’d become painstakingly familiar with it with time. Although you weren’t imprisoned within the Palais as before, your new life still promised shackles nonetheless.
“Could you just show me my personal room?” You sighed. “I’d prefer to just rest after that.”
Neuvillette smiled softly, relishing the sound of your voice. “Of course.”
Twisting his fingers through your own, he led you towards the dragon door. Once again, your hidden tattoo pulsed with energy. It felt like a pull forward, a welcoming embrace. You realized then that there must be some sort of warding spell on this room, likely meaning only you and your captor could enter.
Marvelous.
Pushing the door open, Neuvillette swept his arm gracefully through the entrance. “After you, my love.”
You stepped in and immediately went still.
For in every direction around you was rows upon shelves upon stories of books.
Neuvillette had build you your own personal library.
And not just that. You noticed that entire sections pertained to your personal interests—marine biology, photography, even your personal favorite genres of novels. A separate door labeled Dark Room promised an avenue for you to pick up photography again. Similar couches and chairs as the living room were arranged around a huge coffee table, and a cracking hearth added to the cozy atmosphere.
Your throat bobbed. You had always dreamed of owning a room like this, a place where all your passions converged. But to have it under these circumstances…you didn’t know how to react, torn between frustration and a grateful little voice in the back of your head that you buried at once. No, I didn’t earn this. I don’t want this. It was forced on me.
All you could choke out was, “This is…mine?”
“Down to the last book.” You could hear the pride in his voice. “I spent the most time on this room. Over a century to get it right.”
You startled. A century? Your heart stumbled, but your hands fisted by your sides. So much given, yet what had it cost you?
Shaking your head, you simply said, “I’d like to be alone.” Connecting your eyes with his, you could see his hurt, the expectation of a grand reaction on your part that you refused to indulge.
However, the look was quickly wiped from his face, for he must have seen something broken in your facade. A muscle in his jaw feathered as he approached you, a gloved hand stroking your cheek. “I understand you must be overwhelmed. I’ll leave you to explore,” Neuvillette said, placing a kiss on your forehead before heading for the exit.
“Neuvillette?”
Said man turned back towards you, a hopeful look in his eyes.
“Why me?” You grabbed your arm where the shadow of your draconic tattoo hid. “Why…all this?”
His gaze immediately softened. “My dear, we have centuries for me to show you.”
~*~
It was times when Neuvillette was vulnerable that it was hardest to hate him.
He had returned home after a long day at court to find you sitting in the courtyard on the edge of the fountain, peering up at the night sky as if the stars held some answers. Moonlight bathed you in an ethereal glow, and if he didn’t already think you a goddess, he would have pledged himself to you then and there.
You hadn’t noticed him yet, too involved in your own thoughts. True to his word, Neuvillette had given you time and space to enjoy your new (cage) home. You had to admit, it was a major upgrade from the Palais, and you knew the Iudex would continue to let you explore Fontaine, if you tolerated his presence beside you. However, you knew this dance wouldn’t last—it was only a matter of time before Neuvillette expected something in return. It was abundantly clear that he desired your affections, but how far would he go in order to sway you? To fully make you his?
A sea breeze whipped around you, eliciting an involuntary shiver to rip up your spine.
A sudden warmth enveloping your form brought you back to reality. Blinking in surprise, you peered up to see the Chief Justice smiling softly at you, his purple irises sparking with longing and care. His elaborate attire was gone, leaving only his pale undershirt.
He’d given you this coat.
“I…thank you,” you mumbled, averting your eyes from the man.
“Do my ears deceive me? Did my dear (Y/n) actually acknowledge me?”
Your grip on his robes tightened. “Don’t mistake my words for kindness. I haven’t forgotten what you are.”
A sigh. “Despite what you may believe, I’m not a monster.”
You deadpanned. “You’re quite literally the Hydro dragon.”
“Archons above,” Neuvillette whispered, glancing up at the sky as if it held the key to winning your heart. “I was referring to a monster in the definition you humans use.”
“What? You mean like a man who would kidnap and imprison an innocent person—”
“Considering you are not in the Fortress of Meropide, I’d hardly consider this imprisonment.”
“What, have I offended you?” A scoff left escaped you. “If you want to play house, at least own up to your actions. Don’t pretend you’re some sort of gentleman.”
Neuvillette was silent for a beat, his mouth a thin line. Unexpectedly, his muscles relaxed as he released his tension. He lowered his large frame, taking a seat next to you. “You’re right.”
You sketched a brow in surprise.
Neuvillette trained his eyes on his palms, facing upwards in his lap. “I understand neither what it means to be human, nor what it means to be a god. I was given this duty to protect and uphold the laws of Fontaine, and yet I cannot save those who need it most.” His fingers formed fists, and his lids closed solemnly. “Carole, Vautrin…all of the others I have failed…”
You worried your lower lip. Although he had already informed you of his friends’ fate in your absence, it was still a raw wound for the both of you. Yet the anguish in Neuvillette’s eyes twisted your heart. How could a man be so duplicitous, so capable of both justice and blind obsession?
As if sensing your conflict, Neuvillette gently took your face in his hands, tilting your chin so that your eyes locked once again. His eyes danced with silver sparks of emotion, like cracks of lighting across a dark sea. A thumb brushed away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen.
“So if I can protect but one thing, one person, I will do it.”
~.~
You often noticed that Neuvillette’s horns got stuck in his robes.
Honestly, it was kind of humorous. In the beginning, watching him struggle gave you a sick sense of satisfaction. You’d take any circumstance that inconvenienced him, however petty that might be.
But today, seeing the Chief Justice pouring over a case regarding the protection of Fontaine’s sea life at an ungodly hour, head propped on a fist to keep him awake, you couldn’t help but feel sympathetic when he emitted a low hiss as his horns tangled into the ornamentation of his attire once again. “Damned human attire,” he cursed.
Neuvillette wasn’t an inherently bad man. In fact, your own case aside, he had invoked significant and positive change in Fontaine’s legal system. He judged cases fairly and prudently, working himself ragged each day to ensure the nation’s safety. It would have been admirable to you in any other circumstance.
You didn’t know what possessed you when you stepped behind him and carefully untangled his twin blue horns.
At your touch, Neuvillette immediately froze. His heart rate skyrocketed and his mind went blank because you were touching him.
And not just anywhere, but his horns. Unbeknownst to you, a dragon’s horns were the most sensitive part of its body, only to be handled by itself or its mate. One brush was akin to a lovers embrace, the whisper of a kiss, the hot breath shared between partners in the thralls of passion. Not only was the touch intensely intimate, it was also an acknowledgement—an acceptance of the male’s advances onto his partner.
Oh, if only you knew how many times he had fantasized about this, your acknowledgement of him and his love for you. Although his rational, human side knew your touch as unintentional, the dragon within Neuvillette reared and roared against his skin, demanding to be set free upon its mate.
“Your horns were caught,” was all you said as you settled back into the sofa, flipping to the marked page of your novel.
If you had looked up, you would have witnessed the Iudex gently touching his horns in awe. He swore he could still feel the brush of your palm against him, shivering delightfully at the mere memory of your touch.
Little did you know that your simple act of kindness would unleash the storm.
~*~
The one unfortunate deviation of your current accommodations from the Palais Mermonia was Neuvillette’s unyielding insistence on sharing a bed.
You had foolishly thought escaping him, even if just within the confines of your shared home, would be simple. You believed the library, what he even referred to as your room, would be your bedroom as well. Despite the lack of an actual bed, the plush couches and ever-lit fire provided more than enough comfort to lull you to sleep.
But when you had opened your eyes, you were mere inches away from Neuvillette’s shirtless, sleeping form.
You had assumed it was due to the draconic symbol guarding the room; perhaps it linked you to him more than you had thought. So, the next night, you decided to sleep in the parlor instead.
Only for your hopes to be shattered the next morning when you awoke not only in bed with your captor, but with your limbs entwined.
Anger, shame, and a touch of something you couldn’t quite place—something not entirely unpleasant—flooded you as you tore yourself out of his embrace. How was he doing this? Was it magic, or would he physically carry you to bed each night?
This pattern repeated itself. You would pick various places around the huge house to retire for the night. However, you would wake up in bed next to Neuvillette each morning without fail.
You had even reverted to your previous stubbornness and slept on the ground a few nights, but to no avail. It seemed you were bound to his bed.
Tonight, you decided to face the issue head-on. You stormed up the stairway and into the spacious bedroom, ignoring the pain in your lower back due to all the errant surfaces you had tried to sleep on. The downy pillows and lush, cream comforter practically begged you to surrender to the king-sized bed and its occupant.
Instead, you halted at the foot of the bed and crossed your arms. “You have to stop this.”
Neuvillette immediately looked up from the tome in his lap, his reading glasses slipping down his nose. He hadn’t yet changed out of his white dress shirt, and the buttons revealed a hint of his toned chest as he set the book down. “And what exactly are you demanding I stop?”
You huffed a laugh. “I wish I could say all of this,” you waved your hands around, as if that would convey the entirety of the situation, “but I mean putting me in your bed each morning.”
“Our bed,” he corrected, as if that were the issue.
“No, your bed. Are you really telling me that with all this space, you can’t just let me sleep alone?”
He removed his glasses with a sigh, setting them on the nightstand. “I could, but I don’t want to.”
You seethed. “Well, I do.”
Neuvillette’s violet gaze pinned you with something like hurt. “Have I truly done something to upset you? It seemed as if you were settling into our new home quite nicely. Our conversation and touches were…” His throat bobbed. “Pleasant.”
You narrowed your eyes and bit out, “Don’t take any of that as complacency. You’re still a monster.”
Neuvillette flinched in response and, for just a moment, you felt a piece your heart falter. That is, until he whispered, “Mates don’t sleep apart.”
The room went utterly still.
Your voice came out as a breath of air, but the words were clear: “I am not your mate.”
It was then that you noticed the claws emerging from his fingertips, piercing into the sheets under his form. His eyes flashed silver, dangerous as knives. You could have sworn you saw a pair of elongated canines as he grit his teeth. “You have no idea how difficult it has been,” he breathed, voice tight, desperate.
On instinct, you took a pace back. You suddenly felt like a cornered animal, unable to avert your gaze from those claws that looked ready to tear into you. Clearly you had misjudged the situation—the Hydro Dragon was a starved, deadly predator, and you were practically served on a silver platter as its next meal.
Icy panic raced through your veins. You’ve never seen him like this, so out of control and inhuman. Trying to mediate the situation, you put your hands up in surrender. “Neuvillette, listen to me. Just calm down.”
You had hoped that saying his name would do just that, but it seemed to only rile him up further. The Chief Justice of Fontaine actually growled in response. You couldn’t tell if it was a warning or a plea. “You deny your mate, and now you’re telling me to simply calm down?”
Another step back. Just put out the fire and deal with the consequences later. “I apologize for being confrontational. I think it’s best if I just go—”
Before you could react, Neuvillette pounced forward and grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you onto the bed. You released a cry and tried to scramble away, but he spun you around and pinned your back against the mattress with his muscular frame. He loomed above you on all fours, his hands gripping your arms and applying just enough pressure to hold you still without hurting you. The glint in his eyes, however, promised pain that was yet to come. You were the prey about to get its throat torn out.
“Wh-what are you doing?” You struggled, heart skyrocketing at the feel of his arousal pressing against your core.
"Something I’ve needed to do for four hundred years," he growled huskily, his breath fanning your lips moments before they slammed against yours.
The kiss was hungry, predatory. Obsessive. You could feel the release of each year, each century, as his mouth devoured yours. You arched your back in an attempt to get away, but Neuvillette was quicker. He lifted your form easily and slammed your back against the bed once again. At your gasp of shock, he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.
You fumbled around for something, anything that you could take purchase of. Your arms were pinned, but you were just barely able to grab onto the first thing and tug: his horns.
Neuvillette moaned, a deep, throaty sound that sent heat flooding through you.
It was in that moment you realized your mistake. You recalled how some marine animals with horns had millions of nerves within them, making these appendages a source of sensory stimulation. When you had started adjusting his horns after they were getting stuck, it must have been like touching his—
Oh, fuck.
Neuvillette released you arms, grinding against your thigh. “Do that again,” he begged, though it came out as more of a growled order.
“Neuvillette, stop—” An involuntary whine escaped your lips.
Your lewd noises only instigated him. His movements became more erratic as he slid a clawed hand up your leg and to your core, which was protected by only a nightgown. You jerked as his finger pinched your clit, eliciting another whine.
Neuvillette’s eyes sparked with heat, dual purple flames that devoured your form. “That’s it, my dear. Let me take care of you.” He bit down on your neck, causing you to cry out. He was marking you before he took you fully.
“Tonight, you become more than my wife. You become my mate.”
~*~
You laid there limply in Neuvillette’s arms. He peppered you with kisses and whispered words of protecting you and lofty dreams of your future together, but it fell on deaf ears. None of it made you forget about the bites along your neck or your throbbing core.
You couldn’t believe you had let his kindness fool you for even a second.
You had to escape this prison.
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dcxdpdabbles · 13 days
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Hurray 🎉 more asks!!
First off love-love your writing!
I'm not sure if you were the writer or if you've read the snippet. But there was one that I read where Captain Marvel gets de-aged into a child, a speaks an unrecognizable language child (like he was an actual adult not a kid pretending to be an adult). Everything is mostly fine until he asks for his parents and nobody knows who they are. Kid Marvel screams and a giant hole tears open and I assume the JL meets the Everlasting Trio.
I would love to see how you would continue something like this or write something of this nature.
Ironically, the champion of Magic was turned into a child with magic. It was one of those things that he was sure would be funny in a few years but not in the moment. Initially, Bruce had been horrified to see his teammate fall like that from the sky, his form shifting and changing into what could pass as a five-year-old right before his eyes.
The spell caster had unfortunately gotten away with a convenient portal, and they were left scrambling to catch Captain Marvel. There was also the issue of all the civilians that were displaced due to his rampage through the city of Fawcett City.
Bruce quickly worked to have Wayne Enterprise start funding the relief program for them, but it would take time, which was not something they had. He left it to Superman, Flash, and Wonder Woman to get everyone sorted—the three were the best at working with scared civilians.
In the meantime, he Zeta-beamed himself, and the small child Marvel had become up to the watch tower. The boy had been unconscious the entire time, which worried Bruce. After a few tests and scans with the medical staff, as well as his own studies, it was decided that besides being de-aged, there was nothing physically wrong with Marvel.
They would just have to wait till the Champian woke himself.
Bruce wondered how he would take his new form. In all the research he had done on Marvel and the legends of the Wizard, the champion had never been depicted as a child. He had assumed this was due to the champion repeating in various forms- sometimes female, sometimes male- but never as a child.
If anything, Bruce had discovered that they were always at peak physical age, usually from twenty-two to thirty-five. He had assumed this meant the reincarnation or the selection for the champion was just made that way.
How foolish to think they were never children that grew to that age before proclaiming themselves as Captain Marvel.
"Where am I?" a child's voice called, surprising Bruce from his files on Captain Marvel. Twisting around, he finds himself staring into the doe-blue eyes of Captain Marvel.
For a moment, he is reminded of his various children with similar coloring, and it pulls on Bruce's heartstrings to see the distress on that little face. He raises his hands, making sure his voice is softer than his usual growl. Bruce became the vengeance, so every child should feel safe with him after all.
"You're safe here." He reassures, watching the boy's face twist. He steps closer, portraying comfort but not reaching out to touch. "Do you recognize me?"
"Are you a ghost?" The boy's voice is low, slightly fearful. There is no hint of recognition in his posture, expression, or voice. Bruce bites back a swear.
So much for that hope. Still, his teammate needs him. "No, my name is Batman. A few hours ago, we were, in fact, together against a magic user. You were hit and turned into a child. Does any of this sound familiar?"
The boy grips his blanket, bringing it up to his chin, and stares at Bruce with growing distress. He shakes his head just as tears start to swell in his eyes. It's not good at all. "Where are my parents? I want to go home."
He filed that away, wondering if there were any parents to contact for Captain Marvel. He's been around for hundreds of years. If he had been selected as a human, the myths implied, then his parents would have likely been long gone.
Bruce wonders if there is any way he can conceive Captain Marvel coming to live in the Wayne manor until he is turned back. He could leave him to live in the Watch Tower, but he hates the idea of it just as he thinks it.
His face crumbles as Bruce tells him honestly, "I'm not sure where your parents are, chum."
Captain Marvel's tears fall to the bed as he curls up. Bruce reaches out to give him a hug, trying to comfort the distressed child. He is just about to assure him he is safe again, and Batman will help him when the child lets out an ear-piercing scream.
It's high pitch enough that Bruce can't tell if the ringing he hears is from the sound or if it's only in his ears. He opens his mouth to ask when a portal—unlike the one the magic user had cast—rips open in the room.
Out steps a man with snow-white hair. On instinct, Bruce gathers Marvel in his arms, flinging them to the corner and throwing a Batarang at the intruder. He shields the boy behind him, pushing him toward the wall and growling at the man.
His batarang is shot out of the air with some kind of green ray, as the man's eyes narrow.
A sound escapes the man. The structure and expression of the man indicate that it's obviously a language, but Bruce doesn't recognize it. He can tell that the man is angry, though, and that's not something he wants anywhere near Captain Marvel in his current state.
"Who are you!?" He demanded, raising more weapons. "How did you get in!?"
Oddly, Captain Marvel speaks, his words similar to the language the others use, and the white-haired man's face softens.
"You have my son," The man says in perfect English. Bruce raises a brow.
"Do you know him?" He whispers to the wiggling child.
"Yeah, that's one of my dads." The boy whispers back, sounding a lot calmer now that his apparent father is around. Bruce cautiously steps away, watching Marvel run straight into the arms of the stranger.
The man meets him halfway with a loud, excited chirp and purr, bringing the boy into his arms and squeezing him into a tight hug. Bruce watches every hint of body language, concluding he is not lying about being the boy's father.
"I'm sorry about the scare. It's been a long time since Billy used his distress call. I got a little worried." After a few minutes of chirps and purrs exchanged between parents and child, the man says. He raises his head to stare at Bruce with a regal air.
An aristocrat. Bruce's mind whispers, wondering where this noble hails form. Nowhere on earth with his glow or bright eyes. Was Captain Marvel half-human? "It's alright."
"I'm Danny Phantom," Danny tells him, flouting over with an outstretched hand that is not holding his son up. "It's an honor to meet you."
Bruce returns the handshake, keeping his voice and tone even. "Batman."
But inwardly, he swears up a storm. He knows that name and recognizes the legends and myths. Danny Phantom, the Ghost King, ruler of the connecting dimension of the muli-verse. It was one of the first beings he had encountered in his in-depth religious and culture studies, having seen the Ghost King be depicted throughout history even when he was lost in it.
One of the strongest beings to ever exist. Alongside, his wife and husband, who each ruled their own powerful area on the mortal plane- The Green that Posoisin Ivy and Swamp Thing gain their powers were said to be Samatha, the wife of the ghost King.
The meta gene—identified by the scientific community in recent years but proved to exist long before the first ancient Egyptians—was said to be a blessing from Tucker, the Husband of the ghost King. He was the one who appointed the first pharaohs, destroying the meta gene through their bloodline.
And Captain Marvel was their child.
No wonder the man was the champion of Magic. Who else was more qualified than the Heir to the Ghost King?
"It seems like a simple curse. It should reverse on its own," King Phantom comments while continuously turning his child this way and that, making the boy giggle. "It will wear off in only ten years."
Bruce wondered if he knew that was a very long time for humans. But what was a decade to a god?
"Batman was it?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Call me Danny. I was thinking, since Billy will be stuck like this for ten years, maybe my family should go on vacation while he recovers." Bruce does not like the sound of this, but he can't deny the king's action as a bright light overcomes the glowing figure, and a regular-looking human is left in its wake.
"I'll call my husband and wife. Do you know if any properties are for sale in your neighborhood? I want Billy to be close to his work friends."
Bruce was right. He did not like this one bit. Should he risk war with the Infinite Realms to keep them out of Gotham? The answer was no, unfortunately, and he could try to push the family to move to Metropolis so they can be Clark's problem, but he knows that lying to higher beings is never a smart thing.
He sighs, tapping his wrist computer. "I know a realtor."
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Malleus, Deuce: Like Mother, Like Son
BRO'S STILL MAKING THE "ARE YOU LOST BBY GHORL" FACE … Malleus’s birthday hits different knowing what I know now 💀 ALSO THE FACT THAT DEUCE SAID "THAT" ABOUT MALEFICENT VS THE HUMANS IS... (trying to keep this wording vague so as to not spoil people who haven’t gotten there yet)
It’s nice to see Malleus and Deuce in the vignettes, I feel like they don’t get to interact that much (which is a shame because I think their dynamic is cute). They had a chapter together in the manga anthology too! I’m glad they could hang out some more.
A Tale as Old as Time.
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The princess and her prince were picture perfect in the painting.
The woman, with golden curls that tumbled down her back. Her cerulean gown spilled to the polished floors like a fabric waterfall, the tiara in her hair catching the soft evening light. She gazed up at her lover's warm, twinkling eyes, and smiled.
The man, brunette, locks falling loosely across his forehead. He was handsome in a red tunic with a high black collar, a crimson cape billowing out behind him with each step he took. His gaze was locked with the princess's, his one and only.
Onlookers gathered in a ring around the two, spellbound by how they danced, bodies twinning like threads bound together. It was something precious they dared not disturb, even their breaths clutched like pearls to prevent their escape.
This was happily ever after, a dream come true.
It should have been.
Yet Malleus frowned. His brows drew together and his mouth pursed, a brewing storm settling over his face.
“Draconia-senpai?” Deuce called to him anxiously. “I-Is something wrong? You look a little scary…”
The first year glanced at the portrait of the royal couple. He jumped. “D-Don’t tell me, did this painting piss you off?! Er, I mean... Did it offend you?"
“No, nothing of the sort,” Malleus replied. He rested an index finger against his chin. “It sparked memories of my own days in court. As the crown prince to the Briar Valley, it goes without saying that I've attended a number of occasions similar to what is depicted here."
"Oh, for real? That makes sense, you being royalty and all. What were those events like?"
"Most are rather solemn affairs. Grandmother, the senators, and other politicians gather to discuss diplomacy, trade, and national policies. For certain occasions, there are traditional rituals that must first be performed. A royal birth, for example, must be blessed before the festivities can commence. If it is a knighting, then all the royal guard shall be present and a speech of one's accomplishments read."
Deuce blinked a few times, as though shedding sleepiness. His mind struggled to grasp the enormity of a prince's duties. He dropped the smartest sounding response he could: "That sounds tough."
Malleus lips slightly lifted. "I do not mind it. There is pride to be had in conducting such work."
I don't have a reason to doubt what he's saying, but... Deuce clenched his fists at his sides. If Draconia-senpai really feels that way, why does he still seem so pained?
The fairy drew out a sigh, as if dissatisfied with the silence. "... Ah, but how strange. When I look upon this painting, I see many people present... yet the princess touched by diurnal fae and her prince take no notice of them. They have eyes only for each other."
His words were velvet-lined, soft on the ears. Beneath them, a pang of longing rose like a fine mist at daybreak.
"What must it feel like to be so beloved?" Malleus wondered. "To have someone who considers you the most special being in all the world?"
Vines twisted in his gut, thorns prickling his insides. Frustration and molten discontent pooled. For all the power that he wielded, he failed to attain such a basic thing.
Love.
"Do you understand such a feeling, Spade?" The inquiry was pure acid.
"H-Huh, me?!" Deuce startled, not prepared for the demand in Malleus's voice. "Well... uh, I guess my mom calls me her big, strong man. Does that count?"
Malleus's brow furrowed. "I'm afraid I don't follow. Is it customary for children of man to refer to their offspring as 'big, strong men'?"
"I think that's just my mom's thing." He shrugged. "I'm the only man in the house, so I try to help her out if I can. She jokes about it when I do."
Malleus made a face. It was difficult to discern the emotion he wore.
"Moms, right?" Deuce gave a nervous laugh. "They can be embarrassing, but they care about us a lot."
"I never knew my mother."
"... Oh." A rock dropped in Deuce's stomach. He hurried for an apology as dread rippled through him. "Shit, my bad! I didn't mean to..."
Malleus held up a hand in an elegant dismissal. "Be at ease. I harbor no anger."
There was no point, he told himself, in rage expressed for a woman he had no bond with. Her face, her voice--they were all a mystery to him. She was but a stranger adrift in an abyss.
Still, a part of him sparked at the thought of her, of someone he had yet to meet--would never meet. The thrill of fates closely intertwined, the tenderness of a parent's love.
Malleus went quiet, lowering his hand.
"Grandmother and Lilia have done their utmost to mentor me in her stead." He sounded hollow, insistent. Like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was Deuce.
The Heartslabyul student swallowed. He placed a firm hand on Malleus's arm and squeezed. "... It's not enough, is it?"
He received no answer.
“Your mom is thinking of you, wherever she is.”
Malleus pulled away, presenting his back to Deuce. "Dead fae do not tell tales," he said simply.
“That doesn’t mean she loved you any less,” Deuce stubbornly protested. “Right up until her last breath… she must have been so happy to have you, thinking about what kind of person you’d grow up to be.”
Dreaming of the day when she can, at last, meet you.
Blink, and his eyes were wet. Blink again, and his vision blurred. Heartbeat hot and quick, galloping upon coals.
Did my mother truly…?
“She’d be damn proud of you too.” Deuce flashed a wicked grin. “Believe me.”
“… Hah.” Malleus chuckled dryly.
The longer he considered it, the more appealing the idea became.
A woman in his likeness—or was he made in hers? Papery kisses, fond embraces, words of affirmation. Fire that burned strongly, warding off the darkness.
Wouldn’t that be something?
"I love you, Malleus," whispered that she-phantom. Sweet nothings that sated his starved soul. "Forever and always. My dear son, my pride and joy."
The carefully constructed stone fortress around his heart faltered. His desire burned like a falling star.
He took a breath, and fell from the heavens with his wish.
“Thank you, Spade.”
Just for this moment, let me walk once upon a dream.
A single tear slipped down Malleus’s cheek.
And what a wonderful dream it was.
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pennyellee · 1 year
Text
CHAPTER I - absquatulate
LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU
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pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au
summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.
Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.
chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of God, graphic violence, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, betrayal, mentions of death
word count: 2,11K
disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.
m.list CHAPTER II
absquatulate (v.) to leave without saying goodbye
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October 1938
Her feet ached, the shoes she wore were mercilessly biting into her skin, and the clothes clung uncomfortably to her body. She couldn’t slow down though. Y/N was determined to push herself a little further to cross the borders of Luen’s territory in north side of Korea. She didn't exactly know what would happen next, nor did she care at this point. The vision of freedom kept her sane. Little did she know, fate had a different plan in store for her.
Tears of happiness streamed down her cheeks as she finally found herself beyond the imaginary border. She made it to South part of Korea — the port city Incheon, next, a ferry to Jeju Island. Y/N was moving down the coastline for days, and she feels more than happy to be nearing her final destination.
The moment of joy was short-lived as the sound of barking dogs and distant screams echoed behind her. Wiping her tears quickly, she looked around the area in a rush. A small old building caught her eye, serving as a warehouse of some sort. It was her only option. Casting one last glance behind her, she made a split-second decision and hurried towards the building.
Inside the building, the air was even colder than outside. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to warm up.
Suddenly, a loud thump reverberated through the air, freezing her in place. Instead of moving away from the source of the sound and seeking safety, an inexplicable force drew her closer. Y/N took small steps closer and closer to the voices that grew louder with each passing second. So far, she had guided her steps wisely. This next step, however, would prove to be a grave mistake. With just a slight twist of events, her fate would be forever altered by one hundred and eighty degrees. If only her curiosity and naivety haven’t gotten the best of her, her path could have been entirely different. Or would it?
One movement, one glance, one flutter of butterfly wings and her fate was sealed. Time stood still as she found herself gazing fearfully into his dark eyes. Y/N hadn't even noticed the red-tinged blood staining his white shirt or the loaded gun clutched tightly in his hand. She simply stared, paralysed by fear. It felt like an eternity to her, but it had only been seconds since she hadn't been careful before tripping over the empty wooden boxes revealing to everyone in the room that there was an uninvited guest.
She could hear the man standing nearby reloading his gun. Snapping out of her daze, she turned and fled, as if she had never stopped running. The cool night air lashed against her face as she sprinted with all her might, making her way towards the harbour. There were no more voices heard behind her. Y/N cautiously looked around, finding no trace of anyone following her, allowing herself to have a flicker of hope.
A shadowy figure appeared from behind a corner, blocking her path. It was one of the soldiers, armed and dangerous. Her heart raced as she searched for a way out. ‘This cannot be,’ she thought. The soldier was quick to close the distance between them, the command was loud and clear. “Bring back alive.”
The poor soul, who had only yearned for freedom, remained oblivious to the fact that her life was not in immediate danger. In the heat of the moment, she collected her courage and pushed the soldier forcefully against the wall with all her might. It took him a moment to collect himself as he had hit his head pretty hard. Y/N did not hesitate though. Her eyes spotted a rock earlier which was now in her possession — brought it up and smashed it against his head. Only after she realised what has just happened. She knew he might be dead and for this very sin, she will have to pay. But there was no time for regrets now. She took off running again.
Had she managed to escape? That remained to be seen. Hungry, thirsty, and chilled to the bone, she stepped onto the small ferry, placing one foot on its creaking board. Y/N paid for the journey with the golden hairpin that held her dark locks together. As the wind danced in her hair and frost began to paint her face, a kind-hearted passenger offered her a blanket, which she gratefully wrapped around herself while she watched the disappearing land, full of lights. In the distance, she thought she caught a glimpse of a figure dressed in black on the pier. Paying little attention to it, she unknowingly continued down a treacherous path.
Not far away, a man leaned against a car whose engine had only recently gone cold, asking.
“Shall we follow her sajangnim?”
“There is no need for that,” the man’s words hung in the air. As if he knew exactly that fate would lead her back to him.
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She reached the other shore shortly before dawn. Though hazy memories guided her, she vaguely recalled the path she was meant to take. The last time she was on this island, she was barely fourteen years old. Yet, her feet seemed to instinctively remember the way.
She stood before the gate of a grand mansion, comparable in size to the one she had grown up in. Slowly, she opened it and slipped inside. There were no soldiers to be seen guarding the mansion.‘Strange,’ she thought to herself.
Slowly she walked to the door and grasped the large metal knocker in her hands, rapped it three times. The door swung open, revealing a middle-aged woman holding a small boy in her arms.
“Y/N?” the short-haired lady addressed her.
“I know I shouldn't be here, Daiyu, but I have nowhere to go right now,” she said with tears in her eyes and a lump in her throat. Daiyu opened the door more and let her younger cousin in. Placing the little boy in a wooden chair, Daiyu prepared tea, mindful of the chilly temperatures outside.
“What happened Y/N? Does Uncle know you're here?” She asked when she finally sat down next to her. There was a pleasant warmth inside that radiated from the lit fireplace.
“No, no one knows I’m gone” she admitted.
“That's not good at all Y/N, do you want to end up with a bullet in your head?!”
“I’d rather that than take my freedom by marrying that brute”
“You know damn well you won't get it,” she told her younger cousin. She knew what she was going through, but she couldn't help her.
“Auntie told me to come here once—” her voice faded away when she realised the sorrow within her. “—Maybe if Chan-yeol...” She didn't even have time to finish before the sound of a slamming door reverberated through the room, shaking Y/N to her core.
“What in God’s name is she doing here!” The voice echoed, filled with anger and disbelief once he saw her sitting in his kitchen. Y/N turned to face the source of the voice, her cousin's husband towering over her, his eyes blazing with fury. “Chan-yeol...my mother sent her here. She needs help,” Daiyu attempted to explain and pleaded for Y/N’s safety, but Chan-yeol’s response was cold and hostile.
“Our help? Amazing, now they’re going to kill us too!” he bellowed, his face turning a bright shade of red. Treason wasn’t tolerated among the Wang clan. By running away Y/N knew very well that she cannot come back if she doesn’t want to die.
Y/N began to realize the gravity of her situation, but she knew that it was too late. “They won’t kill you, just please get me to the west. I’ll help myself from there, Chan-yeol please,” she pleaded, falling to her knees in front of him. Y/N was not ready to die.
Chan-yeol’s expression softened for a moment, but it quickly turned to one of anger and frustration. “Daiyu, come with me,” he ordered, his voice cold and hard. Daiyu looked at Y/N with a mixture of sympathy and regret before following her husband out of the room. Y/N was left alone, her heart pounding with fear and uncertainty. She knew that her fate was now in the hands of her cousin’s husband, and she could only hope that he would have mercy on her.
Her feet carried her front and back while she was listening to muffled screams and thuds from behind the closed door. Suddenly, everything went silent, and a tearful Daiyu came out of the door. “Don’t worry Y/N, everything will be as it should be,” she said, her words laced with a bittersweet comfort.
Overwhelmed with relief, Y/N believed she would finally be free. Daiyu poured the tea she had set the water on earlier. She smiled at her through her tears and watched her drink it. The poor girl had no idea what was yet to come. Slowly, her eyes closed, and she fell into dreamland as Daiyu sat beside her and cried.
“You knew this will happen sooner or later, Daiyu. We cannot disobey him.” Chan-yeol said as he picked Y/N up in his arms and carried her away from his wife’s sight.
“This was your mother’s wish. Honour it.”
Never in her worst dreams would Daiyu have thought she would sacrifice her blood to protect the clan she despised with the same amount as Y/N.
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The crackling of wood in the blazing fireplace brought Y/N back to consciousness. Slowly, she widened her teary eyes and looked around the room, which was unfamiliar to her. Tall windows, obscured by long curtains that prevented her from looking out, darkened the entire room. The only source of light was the blazing fireplace and an oil lamp set on the bedside table. She sat her body down on the bed.
Y/N was no longer clad in her bright red qipao dress, but she was wearing a nightgown that wasn't hers. Nothing in this room belonged to her. She grasped the oil lamp in her hands and, with a small gasp, took her first steps toward the large door on the other side of the room.
Everything was sort of strange, the house looked Korean with some touches of Western furniture. For a moment she thought Chan-yeol had made it, and she was somewhere in a far-off land in a safe house.
She pushed the door open and carefully slipped out. Y/N found herself in a hall that was darker than night. The walls were littered with black and white framed photos and several doors. The petite Chinese woman walked slowly down the hallway, shining her light on the paintings. She didn't recognise most of the people, family portraits from generation to generation, until she came to the last one.
It was him, with his dark eyes and the long scar across, her own filled with fear. The lamp fell from her hands and her feet carried her unknowingly where. She rammed full force into several doors and wandered until she found the exit. Y/N looked around the area in every direction but there was no escape route anywhere. Abruptly, she turned back to face where she came from. She had an uneasy feeling inside her. As if someone was watching her. But she didn’t see anyone anywhere.
It was only the cold drops of rain falling on her shoulders which made her look up, revealing the reason for her inner unease. She saw him standing up there like a king, a God, looking directly into her eyes. His hands rested on the wooden balcony railing, smiling. The smile concealed darkness within. Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed to the ground.
“No more fleeing away, my little butterfly,” his voice echoed in the air, and a feeling of satisfaction settled across his body.
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I N T E R L O G U E
“Everything is going according to the plan, kkangpae. She came here” Said the man, holding the phone to his ear. His wife looking at him with tears.
“I understand,” said Chan-yeol, ending the call, and locking eyes with his wife. “Don’t cry Dayiu, you know this is the best for her.” He sighed.
“That is very easy for you to say, it’s not your life that is about to change.” She collected herself, ready to leave the room. “You managed,” said he.
“But you weren’t the head of syndicate Chan-yeol—” she began. “You know, I made my peace within this marriage, but I’m sure she won’t take it laying down.” Chan-yeol pursed his lips in annoyance.
“I wish I could know my mother’s reasoning for this ordeal, but it’s too late for that.” Said Daiyu, finalising her words and leaving the room at once.
to be continued
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author’s note: AAAAAAA! The first chapter is here. This is just a little beginning and I promise that a lot more is going to come and be unveiled ♥ Excuse any ridiculous mistake I made, I just recently got back to writing and it's not beta read. If you want to be added to the taglist, don't be shy and lemme know. Dm's and asks are always open ♥ I'll try to adjust everything and you prolly will get second chapter soonish too.
I'm also not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.
Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥
let's be friends chummers ♥
lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊
taglist: @chaoticpuff17 @honsoolgloss @jingerbreadoutofstock @moocow778 @janura26 @dinosolecito @yoongislatinagff @xyahrinx @ruhmoojeonjunkook-blog @hi12345567 @nochuel @deltamoon666 @bbkissme99 @darkuni63 @nansasa @sazsazsaz @missmin @strxwbloody @royallyjjk @jaiuneamesolitaiire @shadowyjellyfishfest
©pennyellee. please do not repost
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queerponcho · 4 months
Text
Transfixed | part 1
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collage made by me with pictures from pinterest
moonknight!system x female!reader
a/n: been writing this fic for about a year now so it's nerve-wrecking to finally post the first chapter. I hope you'll like it!! (pls be gentle...)
thanks to the lovely @nexusnyx for motivating me a few weeks ago, would've never considered posting without having our convo the other day!! Thank you so much<33
Warnings: no use of Y/N, fluff, NOT beta read, gushing about the moonboys, flustered awkward dorks, plot-twists, (eventual smut, the chapters will be marked individually), inaccurate depictions of DID, egyptian mythology and religion (although I did extensive research I took liberty in changing some things to adhere to my plot...), if I missed anything or made any spelling mistakes pls don't hesitate to tell me!
Summary: You're a woman who as been visiting the same library for all your life. One day a handsome new face comes walking in. That's the moment when the ball starts rolling and your entire life changes. Will you accept the new challanges coming your way...?
2,200 words
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You have been visiting the same library all your life. While you were in school you  would go there to have a quiet place to study. Since at home you always had a lot of family and busy energy around, you needed the library as sort of an...escape from all the noise. Later when you got into university, the library had become kind of a safe space for you. So you would rather sit in the bus for half an hour to and back to study there instead of the grimy and packed library on campus.
Even now that you work and have enough books at home to basically open your own library, you still can't part from your little paradise. Everyone knows you here and a few months ago the owners of the library even adopted a cat that seemed to really like you. So chances of moving on from here had definitely been ruined.
You loved reading all kinds of story based books, but spending so much time here made you curious, so you also picked up a few skill based ones. you had read a few gardening and science books but the ones you would actually start applying were the books that had to-do with art. Autobiographies of different artists and painters, different studies and research on colour and brushes. You became almost a bit obsessed at some point. So you started sketching and drawing things around you based on the knowledge you'd gathered from your extensive research. you would draw people around the library after work or before meeting friends in the nearby café. You'd never claim to be an artist but you were proud of your drawings nonetheless. for the past few weeks you had started to draw one very specific person. You saw them for the first time a bit over a month ago…
It was a rainy day and you'd just finished lunch with a friend. You said goodbye and you decided to head to the library to continue on with your sketches of the cute ginger kitten. After saying hello to the owners and giving the kitten a treat, you made your way to your usual corner in the back. Since the library wasn't very big you had a good view of the entrance and a few tables. you'd been sitting and drawing for about ten minutes when you noticed the kitten smelling your coat pocket in search of more treats. You smiled down at her 'hiiii kitty!' you picked her up and placed her on your little round table. 'you want another treat huh?' She looked back with big shiny eyes 'alright alright...there you go'. She happily chewed on the fish-shaped cookie while you continued drawing her. 
The familiar noise of the door opening caught your attention....a man came in, he was wearing a brown flat-cap which was obscuring your vision of his face. He reached to take it off with a gloved hand and pushed his black curls back to reveal the face, of what you could only describe, a Greek god. He had strong and angular features, a sharp jawline and a beautiful slightly crooked nose which you felt the need to trace over with your finger. He had crows feet decorating his eyes, you'd assume he had them from laughing but seeing his resting facial expression, smiling almost seemed to be a foreign task to him. He brushed the remaining rain off his shoulders and made his way to the history section. When he disappeared behind a shelf you were brought back from your trance and took the first breath in what seemed like minutes. 
You wondered what he would be looking for in the history section of this old library. You were in London, a place with alot of people, then again this library was old and in a secluded part of town so it was usually the same people walking in and out. You would definitely remember his face if you had seen it before. Whatever it was that he was looking for he had apparently found since he was making his way to the register with a thick leather bound book in his glove covered hand. You had a bit of a thing for hands and you knew you'd be sketching hands for the next few hours because of this stranger. He hastily left the library and was gone as fast and suddenly as he appeared. After that day you couldn't stop drawing that pretty stranger, you'd given him multiple names during this time. His name had been Jack, Edward, Steve, Malcom and many more. you'd started just drawing his gloved hands and his forearms but quickly you would switch to drawing his intense gaze and soft curls. The amount of times you fantasised about running your fingers through them and tugging slightly had you embarrassed. It had been weeks since you'd seen him and you wouldn't stop imagining him in your apartment just sitting next to you, sometimes you would also imagine him a bit closer and wearing a little less clothing…
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A month had passed since you'd seen him and you finally managed to stop drawing him and went back to drawing people around the library. Though you still looked up when the door opened and a new customer came in hoping for your handsome stranger to come in and maybe stay a little this time so you could find out more about him and his movements, for drawing references of course...nothing else. It seemed the universe wanted to help you out, because the next time the bell chimed and a customer walked in, the familiar brown flat-cap wearing stranger entered. This time it was warm and sunny outside so he wasn't wearing any gloves and wore a white fitted polo. His muscles were visibly moving underneath the fabric of his sleeves when he reached up to take off his hat and ruffle through his hair with the same intention as last time. He was also holding the same thick leather bound book from his last visit to the library.
 According to the owners he couldn't buy that one since it was rare literature, so he got to borrow it for a month...you knew this because you may have asked about him and his purchase after he left. This was also when you found out that the book he borrowed was about an Egyptian god. During your time in this library you have read books on Egyptian history and it did peak your interest. All this time you’d never even noticed that book before? Recently, you’d been spending a lot more time studying in that part of the library, so overseeing such a unique looking book was very strange of you.
You see him talking to the owners, it was quiet enough to make out parts of the conversation. It was 10am on a Tuesday so you were pretty much the only customer here. He had a pretty strong Latin accent and you were pretty sure he was from mexico. part of your family is from south America so you grew up learning Spanish and you remember hearing them speak English with that exact same accent. 
He was thanking them for the book and asking if he could take a look around the library again. The owners kindly told him to go ahead and that he didn't even need to ask. He briefly nodded his head mumbling a quick 'gracias' and went over to the history section. You watched intently and spontaneously decided to head in the same direction. You felt a bit creepy lurking on this man but you were sure you wouldn't get caught since you were rarely a very visible person. it's not that you didn't have a strong presence but you know how to blend in really well and when to use that to your advantage. You hid behind the shelf of the history section facing his profile. He really was a pretty man, his eyes were squinting and his bold eyebrows furrowed. There was a stray curl hanging over them and you badly wanted to brush it back and feel his thick hair between your fingers...you couldn't of course, since you were too preoccupied drawing him at the moment. The window was creating beautiful shadows beneath his hooded eyes and high cheekbones. His jaw looked sharper than ever and his neck extremely kissable. His lips needed an honourable mention, they were like two squishy pillows that were begging to be bitten. You've been paying special interest to them and trying to get the details just right, so you didn't notice that he had moved from his previous spot. 
You couldn't see him anywhere and were actually kind of disappointed to think he probably left. you were about to turn around and go back to your discarded belongings when you accidentally bumped into someone while moving backwards. 'ohssshit! i- i am so so sorry um- i didn't mean to wal-'
you had managed to pick up your pencil, sketchbook, and hopefully all of the scattered pages- when you finally looked up just to be faced with the god-like looking man you had been fawning over for a month now. he was practically towering over you and… was that a smirk? If you weren't already kneeling on the floor right now you would've probably lost your balance. 'hola~ I don't mind this view but do you need help standing up, muñeca?' This is when you realised that you were on your knees in front of the most attractive man you have ever seen and you quickly scrambled to your feet 'nono um thank you-' 
'Jake, my name's Jake' he stuck out his hand and you introduced yourself after thanking him again. So his name was jake...huh pretty basic for a man like him. You were kind of joking when you temporarily gave him very basic names but you guess his parents weren't much more creative than you are. 
You realised you were staring when he raised his left eyebrow and started grinning.
 'So...why were you spying on me?' He asked cockily and it had you word-vomiting all over the place 'what? i wasn't-? I-I was just…drawing-?' pretty hard to sound convincing when finishing every statement with a question mark... 'yeah I know-' he looked you up and down and coming a bit closer 'I saw you get lost in your notebook and I just had to come see what you are drawing that garnered all of your precious attention, hermosa' 
The nicknames were really starting to get to you, making you feel all sweaty and nervous. you were clenching the book to your chest accidentally pushing up your breasts and making your cleavage much more noticeable. you saw him glancing down, taking his time in bringing his eyes back up your neck and finally to your face. This entire time you were basically pressed into his chest, you were leaning on the shelf and he didn't seem like he wanted to move anytime soon 'h-how long were you looking over my shoulder exactly?'
 'Long enough to see what had you so...como se dice...transfixed' Your breath hitched and he answered with a toothy grin. 
'I am flattered, preciosa. I really am, didn't think someone as pretty as you would follow me around the library just to draw my hands and ass' 
You push him back- 'I did NOT draw your ass! I-' You were interrupted by his chuckle and him moving closer again and grabbing your chin between his fingers and caging you in with his other arm. 'I know muñeca , I just like seeing you flustered...toda nerviosilla...it's cute.' At this point you’ve decided it's best if you just don't speak. '...maybe next time you can draw me shirtless? I would love to see you solely focused on my abs for half an hour.' He flashes you a toothy grin. Oh he’s getting too cocky…somehow you manage to move away from the bookshelf, momentarily getting even closer to him. After seeing his eyes flicker with surprise you move to the side, backing away from him. Turn around finally being able to take a breath of normal air that wasn't deliciously tinted with his aftershave. 
'Sure, next time you can waltz into the library without a shirt on and we will see how far you get before being kicked out' you say while looking over your shoulder. 
 'Seeing your reaction would be worth it, nena' he called after you, not even registering your feet carrying you back to your corner. you took a deep breath replaying what just happened. He should not have this effect on you, it's almost embarrassing how easily he got so close to you. You are a grown woman, damnit! How did you not shove him away and get mad at his advances? You should be creeped out but you notice how you’re wishing to bump into him again soon...you hear the doorbell ring and see him walk out. He takes one look back and holds up a piece of paper. ‘Oh fuck me’ you feel your feet glued to the floor when you see what it is…its a drawing you made of him. It was a closeup of his torso upwards. You had drawn him from above and he was laying in your bed with heavy lidded eyes and parted lips. you were absolutely mortified- he was grinning like an idiot and winked at you before storing the drawing in his back pocket, crossing the street and vanishing from your eye-line. leaving you in the library, plagued by his stupid masculine scent and his dumb pretty face.
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a/n: I really hope you enjoyed the first chapter, I've got a few already locked and loaded sooo the next one should be posted soon. Pls like and reblog if you liked it<3 it would mean the world!
part two
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vashtijoy · 1 year
Note
what is the link between Akechi and the story of Robin Hood?
*pulls on my green British person hat and grabs a bow*
I'm not a huge expert on Persona links but they do tend to be a bit tenuous; Akechi's Robin Hood is no more like the legendary Robin Hood than Loki is like Loki or Arsene is like Lupin. That said:
Robin Hood is a thief, of course. Chalk that one up in the "Akechi is a Phantom Thief" column;
Robin Hood is a master of disguise, like both Akechi's other personas;
Robin Hood is often depicted as being of noble birth and having been unjustly dispossessed—Akechi's "prince" regalia is often interpreted that way, as a claim on a denied birthright;
Wikipedia defines "a Robin Hood" as "a heroic outlaw or a rebel against tyranny", which, well;
He's most known for having robbed from the rich to give to the poor, and I don't quite get that one. Akechi himself could be "the poor", but "robbed from the rich to give to himself" lacks a certain cachet.
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The most notable thing about Robin Hood, to me, is that Superman motif that contrasts with Hereward's Batman motif, with Loki in the middle as the second awakening—hero to villain to antihero. Because, even if he awakened to both Robin and Loki at the same time, it's like Protect and Endure—there must still have been an order.
We see it during his third awakening to Hereward—the historical figure Robin Hood was allegedly based on. Hereward resembles Robin Hood, and Robin is on the left—which makes him the first awakening. Even if it maybe didn't work the same as the others we saw.
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But yeah, one argument in favour of Akechi awakening to both Robin Hood and Loki at the same time is that Akechi did not randomly awaken. Like Joker, Akechi was awakened—to serve a purpose, to be Yaldabaoth's agent spreading fear among the masses.
That makes it very hard for me to picture Akechi starting out as a good guy, as the hero he dreamed of being. Akechi was chosen for his role because he was already full of hate—because he was the sort who, given power, would inevitably twist it to a bad end that he was already fixated on. Akechi is already the kid with the perfect outward image who's twisted and broken on the inside; he essentially tells us in the engine room that he lived his whole life that way. I have a feeling he was already becoming like that when his mother was alive.
The thing is, there's no reason that kid can't still believe in justice; of course he does. He believes in it the way people who've been hurt by religion often still believe in God. He believes in it as something that should exist, but doesn't; as an ideal, with the hate that's the flip side of love and belief. There are no heroes. Nobody will save him. Friends and family aren't real; love and trust are lies people tell themselves, tricks used to manipulate you. The system isn't on his side; no matter what he does, the world just finds new ways to hurt him, and what can he do about it?
And that guy he can't stop thinking about, who symbolises all of this injustice, whose shadow Akechi has lived in for so long? As well wish for the moon as hope to get back at him.
Except, one day, he finds the app on his phone. He goes from being bitter and powerless to having power, to having choices, to being able to hurt others like he's been hurt. But that part of him that aspired to justice, to being a hero, never really goes away. He does his utmost to give his life for it.
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oneshlut · 4 months
Note
Ok, first off, love love Love your yandere Flug headcanons! I am injecting them into my veins as we speak. On that note, could you write something branching off of that base idea but with the twist that reader is 100% supportive of Flug being a yandere? Could be anything from just accepting his love to actively encouraging him to kill people for them. Thank you for your time, hope you have a great day!
A/N: ooh, of course!! i was actually planning to do this with yandere dating hcs for flug since someone had requested for a general pt2 of these hcs, so thanksies for the request!! accepting x yandere is so horrifically adorable <33 (also SO HAPPY you liked my previous hcs!!)
Two of Hearts (Yandere!Dr. Flug x Willing!Reader) [Headcanons]
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Rules For Requesting
Characters I Will Write For
Masterlist
WARNINGS: Mentions of homocide, depictions of blood, unhealthy obsessions, yandere themes, general dead dove contents!!
Summary: General headcanons for a yandere Dr. Flug with an accepting/supporting reader for his behavior
Extra Info: This does NOT condemn yandere behaviors irl. Purely fictional scenario, do not support this toxic behavior in others. im sure you all know that though <33
Love can escalate. When it does, it escalates fast. This escalation can range from a proposal in a matter of weeks, a date in a matter of days, to murder in a matter of hours. Often times, Flug's love escalated to murder. He has before for you, and he would again.
Being a "real" villain gives Flug some sort of confidence boost. He hardly stutters, never cowers in fear, and opts to make extremely bold decisions. Decisions he wouldn't normally make. Well, the first and most obvious would be homocide--but he also gains the confidence to confess to you.
He wouldn't dare kidnap you, though! Of course, not if you took it well! Luckily, things didn't have to go that way, since you agreed to be his boyfriend.
Wait, what.
It wasn't that huge of a shock. I mean, he knew you'd either say yes or no, but he was fully prepared to receive a no. I guess that chloroform-laced cloth in his pocket wasn't necessary after all! He was ecstatic to be yours! As long as you didn't find out about anything he was doing, the two of you would hold up well!
Hah, that wouldn't last long. He was confident with himself at first, but now that you're together for real? All his confidence was immediately swept away when you kissed him for the first time--that or when you first told him "I love you". It really made him put things into perspective--he was yours. And you were his. Flug was more lovesick than ever, more than he had realized. It was adorable, watching him trip over himself anytime you walked into the room.
It was now over a month of the two of you being together, and both of you were happy with your relationship! Flug was still pretty confident you wouldn't find out about what he was doing, and you were.. Actually, you were slowly gaining suspicion.
Over time, you began to notice small flaws in his usual behavior. Very small flaws, yes, but not too small to go unseen. Some of these would be nice, such as Flug going out of his way to get you something on an outing. This would be normal, if it wasn't every outing. And on other days, he would just switch up and do the complete opposite--not noticing you when you greeted him, spacing out while just.. staring at you.. or he would respond to you in two word sentences. He was either in a whole other world, or completely caught up in yours. It was distracting how easily he could just.. switch. It put you off, but you decided to ignore it for the most part.
One day, he came home extremely silent. Actually, you hadn't even noticed he had left in the first place. You watched as he retreated to his room--seperate from his lab. Not even a hello, nor an answer to your simple questions as he walked. You began to fear that he was ignoring you. What could you have done wrong..? That, or he was just spacing out again, which felt a bit unlikely.
Slowly gaining curiosity, you decided to take a small visit to his lab. Maybe 5.0.5. knew something? In all honesty, you weren't just "curious".. you were worried. Unfortunately, taking this visit to his lab didn't help with that feeling of worry at all. Opening the door with a painfully loud creak, you were stunned to find the place in shambles. It wasn't messy in the way it looked like a break-in--no, it looked man made. Some of the lights were turned off, his materials were scattered over his multiple desks, many syringes laid out across the floor--most still had chemicals in them. Watching your step, you made your way to his main workplace, the mess being no different from the rest of the lab. Unlabeled papers of research and crumpled up papers laid sprawled out on his desk. The entire scene was extremely unusual of him--he was always so in order, so organized, sometimes he'd have panic attacks when things were out of order! And yet.. it looks like Dr. Flug made this mess of his lab himself. Sure, you hadn't been to his laboratory in a while, but how much could he have done to his space in that time? Saying the situation was confusing would be an understatement.
But out of everything in the room, one thing stood out to you the most. His closet--normally nice and organized.. it was now dirty, rustic, and one of the latches on the door was now broken. The atmosphere around it was.. intimidating, to say the least. The inside was extremely dark, with some of the darkness spilling out into the already dim laboratory. Hesitantly, you approached it, opening the unbroken door.
It looked somewhat like you suspected--heaps of clothes on the floor of the closet, instead of neatly hung up. Things were looking normal.. except for the blood on some of the clothes. Your mouth silently gaped open as to not draw much attention as you crouched down to inspect the clothes. Horrified, you found many more pieces of clothing with blood. Actually the whole pile. And it wasn't looking like it was his blood--no, it wasn't seeped into the clothes from the inside. It was splattered on, it was somebody else's.
You took a few shaky steps back. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. Flug wouldn't.. kill people, right? Part of you was open to the idea--he was a villain, after all. But he never went out of his way to kill..
You looked down at your now bloody palms. He wouldn't kill anyone in this fashion, either. ..Would he? Was he really that.. gruesome of a person? And you had no idea..?
While caught up and reeling in your own thoughts, you lacked the attention to notice Dr. Flug approaching you.
The last thing you remembered was blacking out.
Dr. Flug never intended for you to find out about any of this. The mess of his mental state, the mess of his lab, and the mess he's been making of.. other people. Maybe he could develop a mind erasing serum? Or.. would that be too easy? Perhaps he could just manipulate you into believing it was all a dream.. Either way, he was glad that chloroform-laced cloth came in handy after all.
So, as far as he knew, you would definitely not be supportive of what he was doing. He was doing all this for a misunderstanding in his eyes. You're always full of surprises, though. That's what he loves about you.
When he found out that you were totally okay with his obsessive tendencies, perhaps even supportive, Flug was completely over the moon. If it was possible to fall even deeper in love than he already was, he definitely did at that moment.
Knowing this, he doesn't keep you to himself. Now that he knows how much you love him in return, he has no reason to not trust you! Things can finally start going back to normal.. if uh.. homocide and killing sprees count as "normal" to you.
He's either smothering you with attention or as shy as a mouse. There's two sides of Dr. Flug that clash with each other when it comes to you. He wants to be forward with you--confident, mainly. But when he does, he backs out, becoming immediately flustered. Honestly, when the idea of you enjoying the idea of him killing for you settled into him.. he almost passed out. You really did make him the happiest scientist in the world.
The fact that you supported his actions just made him all the more confident about himself. Sometimes a bit upstuck. You thought what he was doing was righr, why shouldn't he? Whenever he killed someone, he no longer felt remorse. Instead, he felt excited to tell you what he did when he got home. And every time, you would give him the same praise and reassurance. Believe me, Flug is a sucker for praise.
Dr. Flug likes to brag to you about the horrible, awful things he's done. Sure, he loves praise, but actually recieving it makes him extremely flustered. Any "Good job" or "I'm proud of you" made him crumble on the inside. You were gonna be the death of him one of these days.
The two of you prefer to keep your relationship a secret for now and the forseeable future. After all, if Dr. Flug had got himself caught when murdering for you, you would be in trouble for just being associated with him. He wouldn't want that! Not in a million years. But of course, he would never let that happen.
Turns out, this seemed to be the best ending. I mean, who knows what would've happened if you denied him your love? Well, Flug would probably just develop a love potion of sorts. Either way, he's absolutely ecstatic things turned out this way. Despite the obviously very unhealthy relationship, the two of you were happy.. and that's all that mattered.
..Right?
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coltishcaterpillar · 2 months
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Unmasked / Platonic!Alastor x Teen! Daughter Reader
Chapter II: Sneaking Suspicion
Summary:
After reading over thirty-one entries, three disturbing pages are brought to light….or the darkness, depending on how Emily wants to look at it.
WARNING: This entire chapter (and probably the next one) depicts a very disturbed, traumatized, paranoid child (who is you, the reader.), who has just lost the person she loved most in the world. A HUGE deterioration in her psyche is seen here.
Look out for: Murder, Mental Illness, Paranoia, Anxiety, Delusions, Cannibalism, etc….
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November 12th, 1933
I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, my dear diary. Please, Jesus, please help me find my way back, I’m…I’m shaking relentlessly and the monsters at night won’t leave me alone.
My Pa….he’s not come home in three weeks. I know he will never open that door again, but I wish he would just one last time.
It started with a simple hunting trip. I saw him bringing a large trash bag over his shoulder whilst he was going out, and I just assumed it held his gun and other necessities.
A few hours later, people heard gunshots go off in the area he hunted and now he’s…..
When they opened the bag they found another mangled body….and concluded that my Papa was the serial killer terrorizing New Orleans since 1922.
No, he couldn’t have done anything of the sort. He was a good man. PAPA was a good man. He was. He is.
I read it in the papers…nobody wants to see me anymore. I’ve tried contacting everyone I knew and loved, and they told me to never set foot on their property again, they thought I was involved in this hellish situation!
Anne, James, Elbert, Carol, Mr. Devereaux, Charlotte, Martin…..EVERYBODY has abandoned me!
I wanted to desperately contact Grandma, so I wrote her a series of letters. Her caretaker wrote me a letter back that she went into shock after finding out Pa died, and she’s….well, she’s in Heaven now too.
I just turned sixteen, please. I need my Papa back….my Grandma….
I’ve been in the house surviving off of scraps. I’m afraid to leave again; I don’t want to be shot, I don’t want people coming after me because of what my Papa allegedly did. I’ve lost so much weight, I’m tired, I feel sick….
I’m not ready to be a woman, to grow up, quite yet. I grew up taking things for granted; I thought I would have my family and friends for life. How will I find a job? Will anybody take me in? Can I find a new family?
I’m still here, I’m still here, my dear friend. My beautiful…I’ve not lost my mind, not yet. I’m not crazy, am I? No, no….I’m just….going through some traumatic moments!
I’m hungry….
My stomach is hurting so bad, I’m perspiring and my toes are curled…I need more food. I’ve eaten nearly everything, I have no money to purchase anything else…
Every time it growls, there’s a new tang of pain….
Papa, you would never….you’re a good man, Pa. I love you, I’ll always love you….
Oh, it all makes sense now! Why you never wanted me to see what you brought home, why you were always out late, why you were so secretive…oh, Pa, why didn’t you tell me?! I…I would’ve….contacted the authorities.
Which is what you didn’t want.
I HATE YOU, YOU FUCKING DEMON! HOW DARE YOU BRING THIS UPON ME AND GRANDMA, I HOPE YOU ROT YOU SICK, TWISTED, SORRY EXCUSE FOR A HUMAN-
I miss your kisses and your hugs, Pa. Please….please come back. At least tell me where your grave is so I can hug your body one last time….I’ve never wanted to hear your voice more, whether it be in real life or the radios, please!
Oh my god, what are we having for dinner? I’m starving, Pa….
I have a headache, Pa….please give me some medicine to ease the pain…..
I need you, I need somebody. Anybody. Please….
I never want to see you again. If I ever see you again after this lifetime I will do everything in my power to slaughter you a second time for all the pain that you’ve caused….
I’m going to take a breather soon, my dear friend. I need to let off some steam. I’m….I just need to find an energy source. I’ll be back, I promise.
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November 13th, 1933
Oh, I’ve found something to eat, finally. It didn’t taste as terribly as I thought, and in fact, it tasted similar to how you cooked our meat, Pa. So tender….so, so, tender…..
The gangster didn’t even see it coming. I don’t think he liked me, he was looking at me like I did something wrong. I hushed him, hushed him well, and said,
“No, no, sir. Why are you giving me that look?? I’m only hungry! I’m just trying to survive! Please don’t let me starve!”
I hated that gaze. That look on his face made me feel like a monster, like I wasn’t justified in my action to cut him into tiny little pieces-
Pa, it’s just like you used to make. I never knew how…similar the meat tasted until now. Why did you do that? To so many innocent people….this man was not innocent, Pa. He was part of a cartel, I was doing this world a favour!
I feel better, I think. My stomach feels more satisfied than it has in days.
I don’t feel any better, though. I just…I just ate somebody….
I don’t know what to do! How is….how is his family going to react when they find this out?! I….I caused him pain, so much pain….
But I need more. I want to live….I have so much goodness to offer to the world, I promise I can be better! I’m not usually like this! I promise to make you proud! To make everybody proud…like I’ve always tried to do!
I know how much I was lacking in performance, I’ve never been cut out for the big leagues, but I am positive I can amount to something! If this world will give me a chance, I’ll be the best version of myself I can ever be. I can, I can! You always said I could do anything I put my mind to, I can do this. I can still be a happy girl and young woman, I can still grow up, I can make new friends. Perhaps I’ll move? Yes, maybe that’s a good idea…
I miss you. I miss Grandma, I miss our talks. The things you would do with me…how you used to sing to me when I was scared of the monsters under my bed, our weekly theatre nights; we’d always go to see Charlie Chaplin, that was your favourite; and it grew to be mine too.
I miss how close we were to each other. We were like….we were like two peas in a pod. We couldn’t be one without the other.
1917, was the year of my birth. How well do you remember picking me up that day? When I was alone, cold, nearly dead…in a dumpster? You saved me.
That’s why….I don’t want to believe you did those things, Papa. I don’t. I have a very strong sense of morality, you know that. I….I can’t fathom you ever being capable of something like that.
I…I don’t think I knew you, Papa. You…
You betrayed me.
Everybody was right, you know. The suspicions people had about you. Anne…she always talked about you with a certain look of fear in her eyes, and I always made the time to defend you to anybody who ever judged.
How was it, that the only person who never saw the signs, was me? The person who lived with you for sixteen years?
Maybe I just didn’t want to believe it.
And now look at what you’ve done. You’ve killed a part of me…you killed Grandma; your mother! I was supposed to meet her up for tea a few days after your death, but time had beaten me to it. What ever will I do, without your love?
I miss you, Pa. And I love you, so very much. But you better pray to the devil himself; that I do not die for another five decades. I won’t be able to hold myself back…from hurting you. And I’ll hurt you bad.
To be hated….to be attacked by somebody you protected, nurtured, loved with all your heart….yes, that’s the pain I want to inflict on you. Your daughter, the person you’d kill for, turning against you.
I love you, Pa, I really do. But….a serial killer will never be somebody I bode well with.
———————
January 10th, 1934
I am sorry. For everything. It’s very frigid out here due to winter, and I’ve been camping outside for quite a while…I can’t feel my legs anymore.
To….anybody I may have scared or hurt, from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry.
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mahs-dumpster · 25 days
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"Happy 100th anniversary"
a/n: this is soooo self indulgent please. It's a vignette (written only in dialogue) for Daisy's (my Yuu) birthday jacket card that I just made! I'll be linking it here once I edit this post!
cw: oc x canon (Ruggie x Daisy; they're established to be in a relationship and Daisy has already made her decision to stay in twisted wonderland); dialogue heavy; poor attemps at making this look like a fake translation from a vignette bc I'm delulu
The template for the frames of the paintings can be found here.
Words: around 1k
Happy birthday, Daisy!!
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Daisy: To think I'm able to visit a museum like this! I wonder what sort of paintings I'm going to see…
Daisy: I'm expecting to maybe recognize a few from the stories mom used to read to me… let's see if I actually can recognize them!
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Daisy: I wonder… is she someone I'm aware of? A lady who constantly cleans her house…
???: That's the princess who inspired the glass slippers you always wear.
Daisy: Huh? Oh, Ruggie! I thought you were all the way on the other side of the museum! 
Ruggie: I was, but then I met Trey and we kinda ended up wandering around until I got here. 
Ruggie: What a coincidence that I found you looking at the painting of the lady who inspired your favorite shoes, shishishi~
Daisy: I guess it is a fun coincidence. Oh, right! Would you mind explaining more about her to me?
Ruggie: Fine! But don't go walking around telling people I've gone soft…
Daisy: No need to worry, I wouldn't even dream of it. 
Ruggie: *sigh* anyway… This lady is the princess that inspired your shoes, do you know the story behind it?
Daisy: Sam only explained to me that the princess who wore them danced with them until midnight… so I guess I don't know much more than that.
Ruggie: Right. Legend says she was an orphan who was forced by her stepmother to become basically a servant.
Ruggie: She cleaned the house all day everyday, was forced to hear awful things by her step family and when she wanted to go to a ball her stepsisters tore down her dress. 
Ruggie: A Fairy Godmother – well, her Fairy Godmother – decided to help her get to a ball, she gave her a gown, a carriage and everything! 
Ruggie: the Prince fell in love with her almost immediately and when she ran away and left her glass slipper fall, he tried it on every lady in the kingdom to find out who his beloved was. Then they got married and she never saw her family again.
Daisy: That’s basically the story of Cendrillon. 
Ruggie: What? Oh– one of the fairytales from your world?
Daisy: Yes. I’ve always admired her story, I reread it a lot growing up because I related to her. 
Ruggie: Ah… you did say your stepmother treated you horribly.
Daisy: She… treated me as best as she could.
Ruggie: Which wasn't anywhere near good enough. 
Daisy: Haha… I guess you're right. 
Daisy: What I mean is just… she treated me badly, but I don't hold grudges. 
Daisy: Whatever she's doing, I forgive her. And now that I'm somewhere better and living a happier life… I hope that her and her children manage to grow as people.
Daisy: That's what my mother taught me. 
Ruggie: …sometimes I really do wonder how I fell for such a goody-goody.
Daisy: W-what’s that supposed to mean?
Ruggie: I’m just saying, you're way too naive and nice to forgive someone like that.
Ruggie: if it were me, I’d never forgive them. No way someone's gonna step all over me and I'll forgive them.
Daisy: because that's exactly what you did to Leona-senpai, huh?
Ruggie: besides the point. 
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Daisy: Ruggie, isn't this painting depicting that story you told me about? The ones about the dogs sharing spaghetti?
Ruggie: Oh, that one, yeah! I didn't know they actually painted the scene, who would've thought.
Daisy: They're so adorable, I see now how romantic this is.
Ruggie: I guess? It's still just spaghetti…not only that but it's outside in the middle of the night. I guess for dogs it would be cool but for people? I’d honestly just be excited because it's free food.
Daisy: Oh, come on now! This is super romantic! It's a candlelight dinner under the night sky! 
Daisy: If someone did that for me, I know I’d be pretty happy and satisfied.
Ruggie: You’re just trying to convince me to ask you on a date, aren't you?
Daisy: …
Ruggie: Should’ve figured, shishishi!
Daisy: You can't blame a girl for trying, I’ve been pretty lonely these past few weeks since you’ve been working more than usual.
Daisy: But jokes aside, this right here is already enough. I’m already way less lonely just by walking around this museum with you, it's practically a date!
Ruggie: I don't think a date would consist of everyone from our school coming with us…
Daisy: You get what I mean…
Ruggie: Tell you what, once we get back I’m cooking us both some spaghetti and lighting some candles if that's what you’d like.
Ruggie: If my flower is feeling lonely then I better give her a proper date so she can feel loved, right?
Daisy: You really don't have to… but thanks. I would love to. 
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Ruggie: Ah, this one's actually a very famous painting, I’ve seen pictures of it around quite often.
Daisy: R-Really…?
Ruggie: What? You don't believe me?
Ruggie: It ties with Sunset Savannah’s history and with The King of Beasts’s story! 
Daisy: Well, forgive me for not understanding the historical significance of a monkey holding a lion cub…
Ruggie: *sigh* Alright. Lemme explain.
Ruggie: This is a ceremony often done by members of royalty when a new child from the royal family is born. 
Ruggie: It goes so far back even the lions from The King of Beasts’s story did that. They basically present the baby to everyone else in the kingdom… it's kinda hard to explain.
Daisy: Oh, I get it now!
Daisy: I see why it's so famous, seeing how it portrays an aspect of the royalty of Sunset Savannah. 
Ruggie: Eh… I never went to one, as you can imagine.
Daisy: Never? Is it not open to the common folk?
Ruggie: Well yeah, but back when there was one for who I now know is Leona-san's nephew, I was trying to survive.
Ruggie: I didn't have the time to go to a ceremony just to watch a new baby I didn't care about being presented to the whole kingdom.
Ruggie: I’d learn about him regardless, so I just didn't care much.
Daisy: I guess that makes sense.
Daisy: Still, it must be super interesting to see it happening. How cute would it be to see a baby cub being shown to the entire world just like that, hahah! 
Ruggie: Ah– sorry, before I got here I told Leona-san I’d go fetch something for him at the cafeteria in a few minutes… if I don't go now he’s gonna be pissed.
Daisy: Why didn't you tell me sooner?!
Ruggie: Well, ya know– it's impossible to resist spending time with you~
Daisy: Alright there, Romeo, enough! Go before he gets upset. I'll be looking around this area for a while more if you want to come back.
Ruggie: *sigh* ‘kay, I'll be off then! 
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Daisy: Hm? Ah, this is another painting of Cendrillon.
Daisy: She looks so much free... I'm happy she got her happy ending.
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demeterdefence · 3 months
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Thinking about your "Rachel bashing og greek myths" post, methinks she believed herself to be making greek culture a favor similarly to the author of The Phantom of Manhattan, the unofficial sequel to The Phantom of the Opera
In the preface, the author begins by saying that Phantom, unlike Frankenstein or Dracula, barely made a dent in world culture until Andrew Lloyd Webber came along to make the musical, which he considers the "true" version even tho like...it wouldn't exist without the novel! He bashes Gaston Leroux and basically states that his attempt at writing failed miserably and it's like DUDE, again, the musical and your problematic sequel wouldn't even exist without it, and just because it was bigger in France than in the usa it doesn't mean it had zero impact in culture
But of COURSE unless it's usa-approved then it doesn't count and isn't worth anything *sarcasm*
PHENOMENAL point, FANTASTIC point, absolutely true and correct
i can't be a total dick and say this is an issue solely created and implemented by rachel, because we've seen non-western cultures and religions absolutely whitewashed to hell and back - like, people have been drawing jesus of the bible as white for centuries when he was a middle eastern palestinian jewish man, and good god look what the west has done to the religions of india, china, and japan. but it's the way these kinds of stories drip with a sort of smugness in removing the original culture, in depicting it as backwards and broken.
rachel wants to claim she's making a feminist retelling, but the original myth was already feminist. ancient greece didn't pretend their society was not fiercely male dominated and patriarchal, and hades stealing persephone was absolutely in line with the traditional myths - the twist is that demeter wins. demeter punishes the male gods who stole her daughter, and the ferocity of her rage and grief forces hades and zeus to give in. if persephone hadn't eaten the pomegrante seeds, she wouldn't be in the underworld at all! this is a story that is so clearly a triumph for the mothers and daughters of ancient greece, of many worlds over, because it depicted explicitly that a mother's love was more powerful than even the gods. and rachel pisses all over that.
literally even going beyond that, looking at the society that is olympus and the underworld - all the technology they use, all the innovations they have. who exactly is making these??? where exactly is the material coming from??? you can handwave away most of the inventions by saying it's magic, but we've seen demeter talk about algebra, which was invented in the ninth century by a muslim scholar from persia. in speedrunning to this so called perfect modernized world, rachel actually erases the cultural offerings and developments of dozens of other ancient worlds, and kind of just gives the credit to the underworld, which is run by a slave driver.
persephone constantly bemoans the dullness of the mortal realm, and prefers to literally lounge around doing nothing, when the mortal realm is inventing the olympic games, the democratic forum, FOOTBALL. you have thousands of things to show the gods involved in - largely because the gods were the patrons!!! why do we never see zeus looking over the olympic games??? they happen in his sanctuary!!!
like the disdain rachel has for ancient greece is insane. she can't even bother to research the food typical of the time period, seeing as she writes persephone being looked down on for being vegetarian when vegetables were a key and staple diet of ancient greece. one could argue that a vast majority of ancient greece were vegetarian by general habit. she's baking cheesecake and french desserts and having fast food and carrot cake and maybe - maybe - she'll mention baklava. the ancient greeks are FAMOUS for their art, but we sure wouldn't know that from lore olympus. the only character who even references ancient greek music is apollo, with his lyre, and that's not exactly a ringing endorsement.
and this is not to say that an adaption has to follow the ancient text to a t - that's just not feasible and no one is expected to do so. but there's really something to how rachel does dismiss or ignore the canonical importance of so many of these stories to replace them with a western interpretation. even the therapy speak is grating. in episode 227, when persephone is talking about the concept of virginity, she's absolutely correct in pointing out how that's largely a social construct - but in light of the world she lives in and the world she helps control, the same idea could have been reached through means other than americanized psych talk.
so often, people will look back at the ancient world and think we are morally superior because we do not have the same views, or we have seemingly "developed." that is a view i abhor, because it removes the very act of learning and developing and understanding. rachel really talked big about how removing the incest of ancient greece made the story better, but incidentally, she managed to also take out the feminism, and literally the entire lgbt culture of ancient greece. apollo was even considered the patron of homosexuality! he was called to bless same-sex unions! zeus had DOZENS of male lovers; ares, hephestus, and hermes had known male relationships, and several of the ancient heroes and gods of greek mythology were described in terms we would refer to as transgender in modern times.
if rachel had gone "i'm writing a love story that's originally inspired by the myth of persephone and hades but it's very much modern and removed from the myths" that would be one thing, and i would not be bristling at that; myths have inspired countless stories over the centuries and will continue to do so for centuries to come. the problem is rachel wants to claim a rooting in these myths with zero understanding of how they work or why they work, and absolutely lets her contempt for the ancients shine through in every single aspect of her comic. it's gross and it's petty and she deserves none of the self-appointed "mythology expert" she's given herself.
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✼ 𝕗𝕒𝕟𝕗𝕚𝕔 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 ✼
♥ Larissa Weems ♥ (Wednesday, TV 2022)
on wednesdays we wear black (ongoing) -> a Morticia Addams/Larissa Weems Mean Girls!AU story that is currently on hiatus. needs to be reworked
little miss perfect -> a teenage Larissa Weems/Morticia Addams one-shot. dealing with internalised homophobia. angst with a happy ending.
push me gently (into love) (nsfw) -> two chapter Larissa x reader story in which the reader is a goth art teacher at Nevermore. fluffy, cozy, and sweet, featuring easily skippable smut. rom-com vibes. written for a lovely human being and i hope it continues to bring her joy.
particular (nsfw) -> Larissa Weems x (adult) Wednesday Addams, aka the fic that got me cancelled. rom-com with dark humour and some more mature themes, but still relatively light. sort of a coming-of-age story. author is considering making people take a reading comprehension test before being allowed to comment.
making do -> one-shot. angst, hurt/no comfort. past Larissa Weems/Morticia Addams. a character study of Larissa Weems. mentions sexual assault, deals with processing trauma.
pathetic (nsfw) -> part of kink!week. a short piece describing a toxic relationship. Larissa x reader, but nothing abut the reader is specified -- almost like their identity doesn't matter and they're just a plaything meant to pleasure their boss. featuring foot fetish. it's hotter than you think :)
inevitable (dead dove: do not eat) -> a very dark piece of fiction dealing with sexual assault and trauma. features horror elements. please, take the tags seriously, this isn't a light read.
♥ Lucifer Morningstar ♥ (The Sandman, TV 2022)
violet soul (nsfw) -> two chapters. one of my most popular Lucifer fics. Lucifer x reader. deals with the topic of selling one's soul to the devil. dark. features very filthy smut.
my ruin tastes so sweet (almost as sweet as your lips) -> a choose-your-own-adventure story with three possible endings, that explores what it means for an angel to fall. Lucifer x angel!reader.
our little dance (nsfw) -> Lucifer/Mazikeen. character/unconventional relationship study. explores neurodivergency. very sensual smut in the 2nd chapter.
kiss my sorrow away -> tooth-rottingly fluffy Lucifer/Mazikeen one-shot. Lucifer is being the most extra of drama queens, and Mazikeen cheers them up.
call the devil's name (nsfw) -> Lucifer/Mazikeen one-shot. very romantic. hot and tender smut. depicts love as devotion/religious experience.
belong (nsfw) -> dark Lucifer x reader one-shot. non-explicit non-con. explores the concept of free will after one sells their soul to the devil.
the secret (nsfw) -> last part of kink!week with a surprising twist at the end. Lucifer x Mazikeen... and a curious voyeur?
♥ Jane Murdstone ♥ (The Personal History of David Copperfield, 2019)
when the last restraint is gone (ongoing) (nsfw) -> an intense victorian romance between Jane Murdstone and her lady's maid, Laura. sort of in the style of Sarah Waters's historical romance novels. heavily influenced by Vita and Virginia's love letters. featuring a lot of sensually read victorian poetry and dirty, delicious smut. currently being edited/rewritten.
one and a half sugars (ongoing) -> modern!AU. Jane is an insipid accountant with very specific opinions about coffee, and reader is the only person who knows how to make it for her. fluffy rom-com vibes. will feature smut in later chapters.
don't look away (as i bare my soul to you) (nsfw) -> part of kink!week. dominatrix!Jane x reader. how healing is it for someone to see the worst parts of you and never avert their eyes? the kink in question is watersports and it's much tamer and more sensual than it sounds.
♥ Captain Phasma ♥ (Star Wars, sequel trilogy)
danger level - one (nsfw) -> filthy smut featuring the good ol' sex pollen trope. Phasma x fem!stormtrooper!reader. hot and a bit silly. straightforward and simple porn lol.
chrome and lipstick (nsfw) -> technically a Wednesday fandom crossover, but honestly you can read it without knowing anything about Wednesday except the fact that Larissa Weems is a person that exists. filthy smut (sensing a theme for fics featuring our beloved captain here? lol). non-con/dub-con, so read at your own risk!
easy prey (nsfw) -> part of kink!week. tentacle erotica, non-con. features glittery pink tentacles and a very pretty alien oc, if that spark(le)s your fancy.
♥ Jan Stevens ♥ (Flux Gourmet, 2022)
hazy (nsfw) -> Jan x reader smut, featuring the infamous egg aka oviposition kink. give it a go, it's not as weird as you think it is :)
beautiful (nsfw) -> a gift for a lovely tumblr mutual. Jan x reader fic exploring love, devotion, and body image. very smutty. featuring eggs because it's Jan and it has to :)
fill me (with your love) (nsfw) -> part of kink!week. Jan x fem!reader. a very sensual piece with disturbing erotic imagery. featuring alvinolagnia, food play and bloating fetish.
♥ Brienne of Tarth ♥ (Game of Thrones, TV 2011-2019)
so very chivalrous (and so completely oblivious) -> Brienne x princess!reader. very fluffy. Brienne is very good with a sword, but a bit oblivious in the matters of love. featuring good ol' lesbian yearning.
sweet dreams (nsfw) -> part of kink!week. brienne is injured in a heroic pursuit, and a lovely lady takes care of her while her injuries heal. kink of choice is erotic lactation. very fluffy and sweet.
♥ Miranda Hilmarson ♥ (Top of the Lake, TV 2013-2017)
...but we could be (nsfw) -> part of kink!week. Miranda Hilmarson x Robin Griffin. Miranda starred in a lesbian gangbang porn video and she is very proud of it. Robin thinks Miranda that's absolutely nuts and she definitely doesn't want to see it, thank you very much... except somehow she finds herself in Miranda's apartment, watching it. why is Miranda's shirt see-through? and why is she so nice to Robin while Robin is actively trying to push everyone away?
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♥ kink!week ♥ masterlist
♥ sapphtober prompts ♥ (in progress)
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✼ you can buy me a coffee if you want to support me! ✼
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writing requests are currently closed!
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machinesonix · 3 months
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Dune 2 is out, and as a huge fan of the franchise I am in a semiferal state of hyperfixated fervor. I’ve been reading the book again as a coping mechanism, but it has been sort of difficult finding a social outlet for it. See, there is a lot of fascinating worldbuilding that isn’t in the movies and a lot of messianic philosophy that isn’t quite summed up by ‘well actually it turns out Duncan is the real Space Jesus.’ My wonderful girlfriend suggested this metablogging thing might be a better way to get my fix than stopping strangers on the street with a passion for science fiction easily mistakable for radical Islamic fundamentalism so HERE WE GO
One thing that kinda blows my mind reading through Dune is how both movies have given us radically different portrayals of Baron Harkonnen and how both of them are totally believable in the context of the original text. If you’re not familiar, the new sexy Dune gives us this raspy Kingpin type Baron that wades around in a bunch of unsettling fluids with this villainous gravitas like a fascist hippopotamus. In David Lynch’s 1984 Dune we are still dealing with a caricature of obese evil, but he’s just so goddamn jolly about it. He’s giggling and spitting and cavorting around in antigravity while Games Workshop writers take note about how everyone loves his boils. These depictions are so opposite to each other that seeing them both in the text is giving me this weird double vision.
I think the reason is this beautiful context we don’t really see in either version of the film, and that is the psychopath mentat Pieter DeVries serving absolute cunt with his exposition. It’s a worldbuilding thing. The Baron has a 15 year old Feyd-Rautha watching his uncle to learn a thing or two about statecraft. Pieter is a twisted mentat, which is like a human computer with an OS optimized for human rights violations and he is just having none of the Baron’s shit. He flaunts his expensive drug addiction, offers to dance, and repeatedly reminds the Baron that he was too stupid to have come up with this Snidely Whiplash shit by himself. Pieter correctly reasons that the Baron will have him dead as soon as he has outlived his usefulness and that his attitude isn’t going to be much of a determining factor. For now he is very confident that he remains useful.
So eventually Feyd is like ‘Uncle, I’m just watching you argue, I could be playing GameBoy right now’ because GameBoy is what Feyd-Rautha calls the guy with needles for teeth that he hunts through the steam tunnels. And the Baron goes ‘Ah, but you are learning something. See, one of the great things we lost during the robot jihad were Excel spreadsheets that weren’t little bitches.’ And that’s where it gets me. I can’t tell if this is an impatient mastermind flexing his general obesity or a plague-clown who invited his sassy laptop in to make everyone watch his sick burn. Maybe those aren't mutually exclusive. Maybe it’s not that weird and it’s just David Lynch brain poison leaving its indeliable mark. 
Mostly I think it’s a profound tragedy that we don’t have an on screen adaptation of Pieter DeVries going full fucking Starscream. Like yeah, we see some animosity but we as an audience have been robbed of seeing a dude who can do orbital physics calculations in his head acting like he just figured out nothing actually happens when mom finishes counting down from ten. As a millenial STEM graduate, I feel a deep sense of empathy for this human calculator vocalizing to his employer that he hopes his home burns down. 
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Hello Lady Raven! How do you do? I hope you're having a good day.
I was looking stalking at your blog when I saw your post which contained a world map of the game. This made me really curious: what informations do we have about the countries, kingdoms and other lands that appear in the map? Specially the Land of Dawning, Sunshine Lands and Kingdom of Heroes. Does the world of Twist have other lands that do not appear in the map? Are the shaftlands some sort of Twist Europe (as in; a bunch of countries that signed a agreement to be sort of unified)? And what is that big empty land north of the shaftlands?
I'm really curious about the countries and their cultures in the Twist world, I feel like we don't really have a lot of info on them, and as someone that really loves geography and history, that makes me a bit sad 😂.
I hope you're healthy, thank you for your time!
Oh, the map from this post?
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Hello, hello!
Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m able to compile ALL lore we have on all available countries, cities, and towns into a single post (especially when there’s a lot of other questions that have also been posed + need answering in your ask). That’s way too large of a scope for a single post. I did compile lots of food/related lore here if you want to take a look, as I find the food and food customs in a region say a lot about its culture and history. (Plus, I’m just very interested in food!)
If you’re curious about each location, you can find the bulk of information yourself in related hometown events—however, tons of lore tidbits are also dropped in non-hometown events (ex: Floyd talks about land training camp in the second beans day event), voice lines (ex: Dorm Uniform Leona says that in his home land, scars are seen as signs of bravery), and vignettes (ex: In Jade’s School Uniform vignette, Kalim talks about how serving very sweet tea is a luxurious way to welcome guests to your home in the Scalding Sands). There’s lots out there if you’re willing to search for it!!
Please be aware that we haven’t visited most of the areas on the map, so we are still missing a lot of information on them. The Land of Dawning, Sunshine Lands, and the Kingdom of Heroes are particularly lacking in information. They’ve been mentioned offhandedly every so often. Platinum Jacket vignettes feature the boys visiting the National Museum of Art in the Land of Dawning, and there are sometimes bits of lore which mention these lands. The Mermaid Princess that strengthened the bond between merpeople and humans married a prince from the Sunshine Lands, I believe. In his Broomquet card, Idia says there is a place called “Hydra Valley” in the Kingdom of Heroes (which probably is a reference to the place Hercules defeated the hydra at). Finally, Crowley went with Idia’s parents to the Land of Dawning with to discuss important matters yet to be explained to us. The Land of Dawning is also referenced in a call for evacuation in book 7.
The map you see above is definitely incomplete. We don’t see several vital spots marked even though we’ve visited them: the City of Flowers/Fleur City, the Scalding Sands (and Silk City), Clock Town, Fairest City, the Land of Swords, Dawn City, and more. Heck, the continent that contains Briar Valley isn’t even labeled but somehow Briar Valley itself is. We cannot tell if this is even the entire world map or just a portion of it, since Lilia describes “a land to the east”/the Land of the Crimson Long, but the most eastward locations depicted seem to be the Queendom and the Afterglow Savanna. I definitely feel like there has to be more to it than what we currently see.
I would caution against saying that “[TWST location] = irl location” as even though there are oftentimes strong parallels or inspirations drawn between the two, they shouldn’t be conflated for one another. TWST often forms cultures of its own or borrows from many inspirations to create these places and to present them to us. Comparisons can be made, but let’s remain cautious to not veer too much into that since there’s no clear 1:1. For example, the Shaftlands could be interpreted as “twisted Europe”, but not really because the area often considered “twisted Britain” (which is a part of Europe) is seemingly separated and located on the other side of the map. And then you notice that this “twisted Britain” has a collection of islands that very much resembles irl Japan, an eastern country. So… in essence, sure, the City of Flowers/Fleur City resembles Paris, Fairest City feels very European and German, and Harveston is a blend of Nordic inspirations, but at the end of the day, they’re their own thing.
We don’t know what the land right above the Shaftlands is as of right now. For all we know, it could just be even more of the Shaftlands since the country seems to be a large expanse of land with variable weather depending on the region.
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talkshowboyluvr · 2 months
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lil treech rant bc i'm ANNOYING
the perception of treech has changed so drastically from the fandoms understanding of him when the book first came out to the movie. before the movie, the main agreement on treech's character was that he was a circus performer (still gen one of my fav he's, i love the idea of him being a performer im some way, though i usually make his parents past circus performers instead of himself) he had some clear trauma with touch (i personally make him autistic because of this, imagining sensory issues to be the main reason, though there are older theories abt past sa happening to him) and - one of my favourite ideas - was him being a foil to lucy gray.
both book treech and lucy gray were fairly passive until the ending of the games, both of them preferring not to engage in confrontation and instead kill in more sneaky ways (when someone wasn't looking, with poison and both seemed to be popular in the capitol.
i almost think the movie gives more proof of this with treech having the highest sponsor count after lucy gray and being the only other tribute we see struggle with guilt and morality during the games. both clearly cared about their district partners, both had a hand in their partners death. both seem to charm the capitol.
so, the majority of my own depictions of treech come to down to making him a sort of twisted version of lucy gray. his life is slightly harder than hers - i usually write him to be looking after his two sisters, struggling with a job in the lumberyard and being incredibly poor (more on that in a minute) - so he's naturally lost some of his spark.
he enjoys preforming, but sees it as a chore more often than not due to how tired he is these days, he's no longer truly happy in life.
i believe he's poor simply due to his outfit in the movie. everyone seems to be wearing something intricate, something that clearly has work and money put into it, while he's in his work clothes. i also imagine this would make him weak and much like katniss, i think he'd be underfed in his attempts to provide for his sisters and put them above himself.
a lot of the time, i see people act as though him joining the pack in the movie didn't make any sense when compared to the book, and though i agree it does change the plot, i don't think it at all changes his character. he's a coward in both book and movie, he avoids confrontation in the book, only steals from the already weakened and hides the entire games. in the movie he leaves lamina despite wishing to stay with her as he's more concerned with his safety that with being courageous.
personally, i think book treech may have also joined the pack if given the chance. i do think his survival would always come above morality for him, no matter how clear it is that the guilt tears his up about it.
treech's death, however, is the most impactful for me in both the book and movie. in the book you see a boy so desperate for comfort that he latches onto lucy gray's embrace, or you could instead see a boy so fearful of touch that he freezes in her arms. either way, he's clearly filled with rage when the snake bites, because book treech knew he was going home. he could have beaten lucy gray and reaper had rabies - treech had practically already been basking in his victory.
then a snake latched onto him and in his final moments he bashed the snake to death in revenge as he couldn't reach lucy gray.
movie treech, however, was in agony. he didn't digest the poison as dill did, meaning it instead would have had to enter his bloodstream, which would have been more painful and slower. you can see him covering his face, shaking, retching and practically sobbing before he dies, all while he's ignored and left to lay there forgotten.
movie treech is also never placed in the morgue and book treech's body is dragged around by lucy gray, so even after death he's the only tribute never left to rest :)
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deception-united · 2 months
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You know how wizard are depicted as old men? I was toying with the notion that the price of using magic over time is rapid aging, which leads the person to have an unnaturally long lifespan, as well as having to depend on magic more and more as time goes on.
What do you think?
I love it! It adds an interesting twist to the usual wizard trope—having them stuck in this constant tug-of-war between gaining power and paying for it with their physical form. It's like a Faustian bargain of sorts.
Think about the stories you could weave with this concept. Wizards becoming increasingly desperate to maintain their youth and vitality, potentially pushing the boundaries of what's morally acceptable in their pursuit. It could also create conflict, both internal and external, as they grapple with the consequences of their choices, always teetering on the brink of a moral abyss.
I'm excited to see what you do with this! Thanks for sharing ❤
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