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hidtired · 2 months

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Unfortunate Timing Prologue

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: You found out your pregnant early into your relationship with Daryl Dixon. To make matters worse? The apocalypse happens a few days later! (not fully canon)

5.7k words

Warnings (Pregnancy, gore, smut, reference to abuse, violence, fluff, walking dead stuff, ect.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 etc.

Pre Apocalypse

You had moved to a small town in Georgia to get away from your parents. Your Aunt Mary had a little boutique and offered a job. Your parents didn’t like you weren’t married yet, not even dating either. So they have been shoving men at you for the last few years. They thought by your age you should have been married with kids. They wanted grandkids. Your brother was married but him and his wife struggled with fertility. The final straw was trying to get you into an arranged marriage with one of your father’s business buddies kid. You had only just turned 30.

It had freaked you out how your parents made it seem like you didn’t have a choice. So you packed your bags, your mother pleaded for you to not go. You broke the lease to your apartment and left without telling them where.

You like the simple life you were leading now. Helping your Aunt's business. You lived with her because she was a widow with no kids and wanted the company. You had some interesting neighbors across the street. You had just driven into the driveway taking notice of a man fixing his truck. It was hot outside and his arms were covered in grease.

You walked into the kitchen where your Aunt was doing dishes. You decided to help making idle talk about how the shop was until you looked out the window to still see the sleeveless man. Your Aunt caught you looking, "Thought you came here to get away from boys?" You smile shyly at being caught, looking back down and handing her a wet plate to be dried. "Never said that... Just the one my parents choose. Didn't have time to look for a date when men were thrown at me randomly by them." Your Aunt was amused to say the least. "That's Daryl Dixon, him and his brother live there. You have to watch yourself with a Dixon. But Daryl has helped me with a few things that broke around the house. He replaced the battery's in the fire alarms for me a week before you came."

You gave her a sideways look, "You trying to set me up now to?" Mary laughs, "Fine fine, granted I do bake something for him every time he does something for me. Could just have a sweet tooth." You look back out the window, ‘Daryl huh?’

It was a week later that you got a call from your brother. You went on a walk to take the call. He was anger that your father was on him for a kid because you had disappeared. The pressure had turned to his wife who was already having a hard time with infertility. It was when you were walking back to the house did the conversation get heated.

"Grow a back bone and yell at them Mathew! Why are you coming at me for!?" He responded with his own venom, "Why couldn't you just do what they asked! But go ahead die alone for all I care!" He ended the call abruptly after. You clenched your teeth tight and closed your eyes trying to compose yourself. A voice called from across the street, "Ya doin alright over there?" You turned to see Daryl beer in hand with the hood of his car open. You sighed shoulders sagging, "Sorry for the yelling." Daryl pick up another beer showing it off to you, "Sounds like ya could use one of these." You put your hands to your hips before deciding to walk over. You grab the beer he handed you with a smile, "Thanks..."

You cracked the can open taking a sip. Daryl stare at you for a second before saying something, “Yer boyfriend causing you trouble?” You chuckled at the thought, making a small face of disgust at it even, “No, that was just my brother being an ass.” Daryl took mental note of that ‘single’. He huffed and looked back down into his trucks hood. “Oh trust me I know how that is.” You look at him as he refocused his attention to his car, ‘That’s right, that’s what your Aunt had said.’ You lean against the truck. “Your Daryl right? I’m Y/N” Daryl looked back up at the mention of you knowing his name, “Oh so ya heard bout us.” He sounded a bit disappointed at the thought. You lean to look inside the car, smiling over to him, “Only the things my Aunt said.” He perked a brow at that, “Who’s yer Aunt? What she say about us?”

“Mary.” You pointed over your shoulder to the house, “And she mentioned you might have a sweet tooth.” Daryl looked over to the house of the lady he often did things for, her niece chiming in again. “Always see you fixing this truck across the street.” He pulled a red rag from his back pocket wiping his hands, “Ya damn thing always seems to be breakin.” He took notice of the girl fully now. You took slow sips of the beer he gave you while starring into the hood. “Well if I have any trouble with my car I know who to ask.” You looked up to him with a shy smile. “I’m useless when it comes to knowing anything about cars.”

That’s how they both started talking. You watching him fix a couple spark plugs while talking about things. Getting to know each other a little. Like how you were helping Mary with her shop. “Ah, so you just moved here.” You nodded, “Mmm about a month. Have no clue where anything is and have no friends so…” you shrug. A breeze started as evening was setting in. Daryl hesitated before saying, “I could show you some local spots.” He bit the side of his thumb nail waiting for an answer. You had bit your bottom lip looking up at him and smiled, “Sounds like fun to me.”

He was worried for a second he messed up, “There’s a bar that everyone knows, real popular on Fridays.” You nodded while looking at him staring down at your watch seeing you had been talking for about a hour. It was getting late so you slowly started to walk backwards to your house. You smile with a glint in your eye, “Sounds like a Date… see you Friday!” You waved and all he could do was look on with wide eyes. Did you just- “Pick you up at 8!” He yelled. He was in slight disbelief at the out come. Had you been flirting with him the whole time?

You had handed him a tool before he could even ask. You had known how to do it all along and played stupid to talk with him. He smiled down as he closed his hood. ‘Oh you were trouble.’

When Friday came he was kicking himself. This was unlike him to go on dates. But he wouldn’t deny he liked you. You were also looking forward to a date for the first time in a while. Preferring it more than being tricked on to one with some guy your parents liked. Daryl probably didn’t fit that kind a guy they would. Oh but your kind definitely. Your Aunt watched you try on an outfit before deciding to go with a floral casual dress that went to your knees. She gave you a smug look and you only rolled your eyes. You had a long black jacket over you, knowing it was already cool outside.

Daryl knocked on the door and off you went in his truck to this bar. He was slightly nervous when he saw you dolled yourself up, and for him? He had lied to Merle where he was going and doing. He was desperately trying not to blow this, “Ya look pretty…” he had said it at a stop light looking over to you. It’s everything a girl wants to hear, and it sure made you smile.

When they got to the bar the bartender seemed confused to see Daryl with a girl. He was normally there with his brother. Mostly to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid he had noticed. “Well if it isn’t a Dixon, tell your brother he still owes me for the glass he broke.” Daryl cringed at the mention of his brother. You just simply took a seat on a stool. “What can I get you two.”

You had a few drinks you’ll admit. You tried a classic drink that the locals had. You were grossed out at the drink causing you and Daryl to laugh. He only had a drink with the need to drive you both home. You had tried to play pool but decided you were a little to inebriated at how many times you missed the ball entirely. You were standing in a corner of the bustling bar talking. You held a bow empty cup dying laughing at a story had told you about his childhood. Sometimes kids dumb actions, like jumping off a shed in a hero outfit, were just funny. You had lost a little balance at your laughing and place a hand onto Daryl’s chest. He only looked down to you putting a hand to your waist to steady you. You had tears of laughter in you eye, you fanning your face to no ruining your make up. He was definitely enjoying this more than he wanted to.

You had been at the bar for about 4 hours with Daryl. You now walked leaning into him in the parking lot. He had an arm around your shoulder leading you to the car door. He started the car and looked over to you, “Should have told me ya were a lightweight.” You gasped offendly, “Lightweight! I’ll have you know I’m just tipsy.” He looked at you questioningly humming. You relaxed into the car seat, “Ok, I’ll admit I haven’t done this in a while- might be a little rusty on the drinking game.”

You both continued to joke around until getting to the neighborhood. He back up in your drive way to later drive into his own. Him doing that thing with his arm as he back up. You bit your lip at the sight. When he parked and looked at you you spoke, “Thank you for this Daryl, I had fun.” He nodded, “Was my pleasure…” you had slowly moved closer crossing the middle seat. He looked down at your flushed face, mostly done by the alcohol. That liquid courage probably giving you the strength to grab him by the chin and slowly kiss him. He leaned into it grabbing your hip. You pulled back with a bashful smile,

“Same time next week?”

He had fully smiled at that, “Ya bet your sweet ass. Now get out of here miss ‘tipsy’.” You giggle wiggling your way out of the car. Waving goodbye with a stupid smile on your face. He felt his heart skip a beat, ‘oh he was real screwed…’

That night he even thought back to how you were looking at him on the way back. He had caught you leaned against the window with hooded eye. When he looked at you, you tried to fight a smile. Oh and how could he not think of the kiss. His hands dragged down his face at the thought.

This went on for a little over a month. You would see each other throughout the week but Fridays you would go out. Small touch’s and kisses here and there. It wasn’t until you ended up back at that bar that things changed. You were only 2 drinks in. You sat in a booth with Daryl. Head on his shoulder and hands intertwined under the table. You pulled away getting up, “I’m going to get another drink and you a beer. Then I’ll wipe your ass in a game of pool!” Daryl chuckled, “Let’s hope you can hit the ball with your cue this time.” You stuck out your tongue at him while walking to the bar. You had only been waiting for your drinks when a man slide up next to you.

“Whats a pretty thing like you doing with a Dixon? He blackmailing you?” The man held a sleazy smirk. You only look at him with disgust ignoring him. It was when he put his hand to your arm pulling you closer did you talk to him, “Hey back off!” The man’s grip tightened, “What you a hooker or something? Only way a Dixon could get some pipe is by paying for a slut.” You had yanked your arm from him, you falling back a little before landing against someone behind you. A arm rapping around you, you recognized it instantly, Daryl. His voice growling and rumbling against you, “Back off my girl.”

The man who was bothering you only rolled his eyes, “Maybe keep your slut on a leash-“ You had felt Daryl lean forward behind you before you even saw him sock the guy in the face. You had gasped and turned to push Daryl back from the guy. He stumbled and held his nose. You whispered to Daryl, “Ok it’s time to go…” You tried to push him closer to the door but the jackass decided to spit out another comment, “Ya let your bitch drag you away pussy!” You felt Daryl lean forward and resisted you leading him backwards but you spoke softly up to him, “Please…” His eyes briefly met yours. He looked back up to the guy who was probably drunk but, Daryl’s blood was boiling with rage. He relented at your plea and walked out the exit.

He was quiet as he walked back to the truck. Walking a little faster ahead of you. When he got into the drivers seat you had said his name but he wasn’t listening. He put the key in the ignition, turning it on but your hand rested onto his arm and you said his name again, “Daryl…”. He slumped a little and turned the car back off. He slowly turned to look at you. You scooted closer into him. You closed your hands around his face so he would look at you. You gave a small smile, “Thank you.” You gave him a quick peck before leaning back to look at him.

He signed and placed his forehead to yours talking a moment. He thought maybe he was gonna scary you off at the out burst. He whispered, “Hope I didn’t scare ya.” You chuckled shaking your head, “They opposite really. I was scared of that guy and then you came and I felt ok again.” He inhaled a breath before I closing his arms around you. He pulled you into him more and you rapped an arm around his back. You sat there for a moment before you spoke, “Soooo, Your girl huh?”

Daryl froze in place. Didn’t even register he said it in the moment. He pulled back from you, mouth agape, stuttering before he gave up at trying to say anything. You placed a hand into his hair playing with a strand of hair, “I’m your girl?” You had almost whispered it. Daryl cleared his throat, “Will you be?” You let out a breathy sigh,

“Yeah, thought you’d never ask.”

That is when you officially started dating. Sat in the truck, in the parking lot, making out for a good 10 minutes.

You were enjoying the new found established relationship. Over the next week was filled with your Aunt seeing you cuddle on the couch watching a movie. You had even managed to give him a small haircut in his bathroom, “Hmm, I think you would look good with long hair.” Sometime you would find yourself in Daryl’s room laying on his bed just talking when Merle was away.

Speaking of Merle he had later found out when at the bar that his baby brother started a fight over his girlfriend. He had thought nothing of it until he asked his brother if it was true. When it was confirmed he laid hurtful comments at him. ‘No one can love someone like us!’ ‘Like you really?’ It was a definite damage to his ego. But some of the things he said about you rubbed him the wrong way. It made him defensive, ‘She a good lay?’ ‘got you pussy whipped.’ They had yet to even cross that line.

You know understood why Daryl had not wanted you to met his brother at first. He made rude and sexually comments to you. Often either being sexist or racist any time near him. You mostly tried to say clear of him.

Then there came the drama that followed from your parents. Apparently your Aunt let it slip to your brother you were with her. He told your parents and now here you were getting a call from her shop. You picked up the business phone and before you could even spit out your prepared greeting you heard your father’s voice boom over the phone. “Now you listen to me little lady you’re coming back home!” You pause shocked. “Your little tantrum is done and you will do as you’re told!” You could hear your mother in the back telling him to calm down. You to in a breath and replied calmly, “Dad, I will do no such thing.”

He was yelling more. You had caught something about a wedding date and some name before your mother took the phone from him. “Honey, you need to come back home ok?” You really couldn’t understand why, “No Mama I like it here.” She went to go on, “We are just doing what we think is best for you. We just want you to be happy with a husband.” You had enough snapping at them for the first time, “You want what’s best for you. If you wanted me happy you would have listened to me! I’ll have you know with the time I’ve been gone I finally feel free. I even got a boyfriend!”

Your mother gasped, “In the town you’re in! What redneck white trash could you possibly find out there!” You were surprised at the way your mother spoke. But you were also mad at it. You angrily replied, “His name is Daryl Dixon! Fuck you! Never call me again!” You hung up seething. You had closed the shop a little early.

After the call from your parents you walked to the bar. The bartender seemed surprised seeing you without Daryl before asking, “Your usual?” You nodded with an appreciative smile. While waiting for the drink you noticed Daryl’s brother with a few other people. You ignored him deciding you would have the one drink and go home, not really in the mood to deal with Merle.

You had just finished your drink when you heard a commotion behind you. Merle and another were arguing. It was getting really heated. You had stood about ready to leave when the other guy threatened Merle, “I’ll kill you for this!” When you had turned Merle was smug looking and unaware of the knife being pulled from behind the man’s pants. You had yelled, “Merle!” In a panic you lobbed your glass at the man. It shattered over his head sending him to crumple to the side on a table. The knife slipping from his hand and landing in front of him. Merle looked down at the knife before looking up to where the glass came from, spotting you. You were shocked with your mouth open looking at the man holding his head in pain, before looking back to Merle. The few other men that were sitting with them getting up displeased.

Merle realizing he was out numbered started to run toward you. He had grabbed you by the arm and dragged you with him to the exit. The bartender yelled as you got dragged away. “Hey!” You had yelled back before the door closed, “Sorry Lawrence I’ll pay you back later!” Merle was still dragging you along to his motorcycle. The door had swung open and the angry men started to pursue you both. Merle had yelled at you when you pause to look at the door, “Get the fuck on!”

You had hopped over the seat and sat behind him. Not having a moment to hold on before he started to speed off. It wasn’t until he pulled into his driveway that you started telling him off.

Daryl had heard Merle’s motorcycle pull in but he wasn’t expecting to hear you yelling right after it. “Goddamn I’m already having a shit day!” When he walked out the front door to see you telling Merle off as he just sat there on his bike silently taking it. He had never seen his brother not throwing words back at someone. “Are you an idiot!” Not even that got a reaction from him. Daryl knew that would normally get replied by violence. It wasn’t until he spoke did you turn at his voice, “The hell is goin on?” Your anger soon crumpled into tears, you were overwhelmed and maybe a bit scared still body pumping with adrenaline. Daryl almost got whiplash at the sudden mood shift.

That didn’t stop him from hugging you as you started to cry. He shot a look to his brother who still sat on his bike. Merle looking weirded out at the sudden tears. "The hell you do ta her?!” Merle rubbed the back of his neck, "May have got into a bit of a fight at the bar with some folks. She kinda stopped me from being stabbed." He had felt you shaking in his grasp now. He knew you hated conflict, told him about the pit that would form in your stomach. But you stopping Merle from being stabbed? "How she do that?" Merle chuckled, "Threw her glass across the room! Knocked him clean on his sorry ass." He seemed almost impressed by you.

Daryl started leading you back toward your home. Daryl turning to yell back to his brother, "Whatever man piss off." He had gotten you into your house before you spoke, "My Aunt went on her Cabo trip with her book club friends. She'll be gone a week... stay?" He gulped, "If ya really want me to." You nodded, "I don't wanna be alone." He saw you were scared.

He lay next to you in your bed after you calmed down and ate dinner. "Want to talk bout it?" You moved closer to him leading him to put a arm over you. You sighed into him, "I was at the bar because I had a rough conversation with my parents. Somethings were said. Their the reason I moved here, to get away from. I saw Merle and then the knife- then all those men chased us." Your hand rose to pinch the bridge of your nose, "Just been a- a shit day." You move to look up to Daryl's blue eyes a smirk rising to your lips at the worried and tight look he was giving you. He relax a little at your attention. He dragged a hand up your arm to your face, "Merle seems to think your a badass now." He himself was a little proud to hear what you did. You grunted into his chest, "He'd better. Saved his dumbass."

You were talking for a while after that. Seeing the clock blinking 1am now. You were sleepy but enjoyed talking to him to much to fall asleep. Sleep was pulling at your eyes and a question that should have been a inside thought slipped out, "Why haven't we had sex yet?" Daryl was a little taken back but not to shocked at the question, he hummed, "Honestly not a clue, I like you to much to mess anything up." Maybe the tired feeling was making his lips a little loose to. He paused before continued, "I've only had meaningless sex. Nothing with feeling behind it." He smirked down to your hazy eyes, "Why? You tryin to get in my pants?" You chuckled adding a little shrug, "Perhaps. Take me out to dinner and we'll see how the night goes from there." That made Daryl's heart beat a little harder. Of course he has thought about it before just didn't know how to act on it with you. He held you a little tighter to him, goofy smile to his face, "Yes Ma'am."

Take you out to dinner he did. Nothing to fancy but by the end of that night you offered him to follow you inside. You were laughing while bumping backwards into things as you both kissed. You stripping buttons down his shirt when he paused face looking uncomfortable. You stopped at the look. He sighed squeezing his eyes tight. Reminding himself it was you. "Uh sorry, just forgot to mention- just look fer yourself..." You softly pulled the shirt down off of him. Revealing scars along his body.

You dragged a finger along one. You look up at him with round eyes. He looked away before saying, “M’ Daddy was a drunk.” You intake air and release it at the information. You leaned down and kissed the scar you touched. Everything turned slow from that point, more sensual. He rolled into you at a pace he never had before. He was used to chasing a feeling, getting it over with. But every time he would push into you he couldn’t help but love the groans you made. You sure loved the noises subconsciously coming out of him as well. You would move up into him. The slow motion had sent you crazy. Leading you to claw at him begging for more. He didn’t go faster but harder.

Your moans filled your bedroom. Daryl was sucking on your neck while rutting into you. He was huffing out air and grunting in exertion. The tight clench he felt around him damn near knocked the wind out of him. He had pulled out and rested his head on your chest while trying to catch his breath. You dug your hands into the back of his hair.

That night lead to many more like it. Which is what lead you to the current situation going on. You were in the bathroom staring at a positive pregnancy test. Not just one but three. You sat on the floor contemplating, 'How did this happen?' 'Do I keep it?' 'How do I tell Daryl?' You and Daryl had been only officially dating for 3 and a half months now. The first test had you in denial, the second had you begging. The third had you close to acceptance. At least you weren't ugly crying anymore. Before anything you needed to tell Daryl. So you called him over saying it was urgent.

He opened the front door and jogged to your room seeing you crisscross on the bed looking distraught. He kneeled down at the front of your bed looking up at you. You took in a nervous breath before talking, "If you need a moment after I tell you this, its okay, I wont be mad." Daryl's heart dropped to his ass, 'were you about to end stuff between them?'

"I'm pregnant."

His eyes slowly widened and he looked down to your stomach then back to you. He abruptly stood up then paused again. His mind moving a mile a minute but also not at all. The one thing to click was "A father? ME?' He slowly walked out the room. You sat there with tears burning in your eyes watching him leave the room. He paced back and forth hand running into his hair. The fight or flight in him was telling him to run, he was overwhelmed. Then he heard a small sniffle come from the room he had just come from. That stopped him in his tracks. He thinks he loves you. You both hadn't gotten to saying it out loud to each other. He didn't know what love felt like but this was what he imagined it to be. He hated to see you cry. Made him feel like maybe he would to if he didn't fix your tears. When he heard you he slowly made his way back into the room. Realizing you were most likely as terrifies as him, more so even.

You felt his arms around you making you cry harder. You had run the possibility of him leaving in your mind. Fully aware of his lack of a good father in his life. When you pulled away to look at him he also had tears going down his face. It was the first you have seen him cry. You had now put your arms around his middle and pulled him down to now lay on top of you. You had a tight hold on him and he you. You both calmed down and you knew he wasn't leaving, then he also whispered into you, "I've got ya. Both of ya."

It was rough that first day. It didn't feel real. You told Daryl how you were going to make a appointment in the morning. You asked if he was wanting to go with. He had slowly nodded deep in thought. You had said they could talk about everything in time.

You both had time.

You had an appointment in a week, the receptionist suggesting you go and buy prenatal vitamins before then. You also broke the news to your Aunt, she was supportive. Saying she would love to help with anything you needed. You and her walked a few blocks to a small store connected to a pharmacy. You looked to the shelves of pills. You held two big bottles, different brands, of prenatal vitamins. The sound of screaming alerting you to a disturbance in the store. You turn to your Aunt with a questioning look. You both peaked around the aisle spotting someone on top of the other, a fight perhaps?

Gun shots to your left making you jump. You turned seeing a man backing down the aisle beside you shooting rounds into a woman approaching him. You witnessed the women not even flinch to each shot. Your Aunt pulled you by the shoulder backwards down the lane. Another person who was pale with foggy eyes rounded the corner. It grabbed your Aunt and before you could blink took a bit out of her neck. You watch in horror as she dropped to the ground with that person on top of her. Blood from her throat being ripped out had splattered across your face. You screamed terrified. The lady the man had been shooting at now turned the corner from the aisle they were in. Now she was covered in blood though. You look down to your Aunt who had stopped moving. The thing taking notice of you. So you ran.

You had just seen your Aunt being brutally murdered. You ran out the door of the building pill bottle still in hand. You saw people running, cars crashing. Others getting hit by cars. It was a nightmare but you felt like you need to keep moving. You ran down the road back to your house. Dodging anyone covered in blood.

Daryl had kicked the door open to your house. Merle was packing stuff into the truck across the road. He screamed your name looking for you anywhere. When he couldn’t find you he ran back to the car, “I can’t find her!” Merle rolled his eyes, “Forget about her! She probably died someone where let’s get are asses out of here!” Daryl yelled back at him with rage. “THE IS NO WAY IN HELL IM GOING ANYWHERE WITHOUT HER!” The yell had shocked Merle. Daryl had never talk to him like that. “We can find you a new lady we gotta go!” Then Daryl did something more unexpected. He shoved Merle back. He had hit the side door of the truck, Merle was about to hit him when he yelled, “She’s pregnant man!”

Daryl had a panicked and pained expression on his face. He started to stuttered out, “I-I gotta go look—“ The sound of his name being yelled from a distance made him turn in the direction. He was relieved to see you running full speed toward him. His relief flooded by panic at the sight of blood painted across your face and cloths. He ran the rest of the way to you. Crashing into each other in an embrace. You struggled to regain breath after how long you were running. Daryl had held your face seeing were the blood came from. Tears forming in your eyes, “It’s not mine…” Merle’s voice cutting in, “Come on love birds we gotta go now!”

Daryl lead you to the car opening the door and making you jump in, “Stay here I’m going to get some of your stuff.” He ran off back to your house and Merle started tightening the cables to the bike in the back. He sat down in the driver seat and looked over to you. You had two pill bottles on your lap and you stared at your hands shaking. He then noticed all the blood on you and decided to keep his mouth shut. Daryl ran back throwing a duffel bag in the back before going to the passenger side. You sat in the middle still a little stunned. Like a bird who flew into glass.

Daryl’s arm went behind your head resting on your shoulders. You leaned into him. Merle had started to peel out of the space driving off into a direction. You heard little of the talk between them. Choosing a quarry they know to get away from the towns and head into the woods.

All you knew was the world was changing.

Part 2

Feedback welcomed and requests open!

Sorry for mistakes I to eepy its 2 am. I'm dyslexic and struggle with it and normally reread 10 times to fix mistakes but this is so long I wanna go to bed.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #norman reedus #angst #fluff #smut

463 notes · View notes

gglitch1dd · 2 months

Note

About the Cheating Dilf Izuku, I'm curious to know what would have happen if Izuku arrived again a minute too late?

Seeing reader die in the hands of Jigsaw since every story and anime i see.

The lovable and caring husband turns into like mean and abused after their wife dies like in Demon Slayer, Rengoku Shinjuro?

So yeah! Curious to know what would Izuku do once reader is gone and what will happen to the sprouts and how they would cope up with the fact their lovable mother is gone?

Also! Loved the mini series!🫶🫶 Hell it made me cry! I should be studying for the exam but damnnnn need some angst 😭😭

You mentioned a Rengoku and I perked up, @freshherowinnercloud. I LOVE Kyuojiro. I'd want all his babies. Either way, back to my main man.

Well... I think Reader and Izuku are very close in a sense that Izuku could very well not see a point in living anymore because of the fact that Reader isn't there. She gave him everything in his life, his home, his children, the things that push him to continue. But she's gone... that would be a very difficult situation for everyone.

Warning: Heavy depression, Reader's death, oldest sybling syndrome, grief

Toshinori entered his parents father's room. The curtains were drawn just like always, the room dark and stuffy. Toshinori entered the room, the room silent. Lying in bed was his father. Toshinori glanced at the lunch he had brought him. Not even a bite out of the sandwich that he had made.

Toshinori glanced down at the dinner he brought with him. He sighed as he walked forward, to where Izuku's side of the bed was. He replaced the lunch that was there with dinner that he knew he wouldn't touch.

The fourteen year old boy wasn't even sure if his father had even left his room since after the funeral.

The day you had passed was a dark day in the Midoriya household. It was the day that the very sun that kept the garden that was the Midoriya family, stopped shining.

Toshinori still couldn't get the sound of his father's scream in pure agony in the hospital out of his head. The sound of a man who had lost his wife and very meaning of existence.

You were murdered by Jigsaw, the villain who was rotting in prison right now, but was still breathing. You had gone to pick up Shoyo from preschool when the villain had attacked. You sacrificed yourself to save all those kids including your son.

And yet, Toshinori couldn't have helped but be so mad at you for it. Why did you have to do that? Why did you have to go on and get yourself killed?

You weren't a hero.

You were his mom.

And yet the moment you died, Toshinori didn't cry. He didn't cry once, not in public that is. Even at the funeral, when his grandma had put the boys all in black suits and stood next to her son at your funeral. Toshinori and his father were the only ones that didn't cry at the funeral. However, Toshinori was sure his father didn't cry for the same reason he did.

Izuku simply had no tears left on that morning to shed, and one could see it straight how much he was but a cusp of the man he once was. Standing there motionless, silent, rigid. Inko and Toshinori received all the condolences, people just having to take one glance at the Number One hero to see that he was in no state to even be there.

Since then, Toshinori tried to keep his brothers together. With the help of his grandma and his godpaerents, Aunty Mina and Uncle Hanta. Although he never asked for help, it was nice that they pitched in. Buying groceries, taking the boys to school, making lunch for them. All things Toshinori first denied them needing, but accepted anyways.

It was hard on all of the boys, not having you here. The house was quieter and empty. It was cold and lacked the warmth you brought.

Asahi buried himself in studying. He barely did anything else, other than start fights as well. Toshinori had to go to guardian meetings for parents because of the fact that his father just wasn't able to. Toshinori couldn't even talk to his eleven year old brother because it was like talking to a whole different boy.

Hero had stopped smiling entirely. Toshinori hadn't heard a joke or laugh from him since the day you died. According to letters his teacher was sending, the seven year old wasn't doing well in school and he wasn't participating. A lot of his teachers were accomodating and were trying to help him pass but if he continued like this, he would fail the year. All Hero did was play sports, but at least he had that.

Shoyo still tried smiling. The five year old, given to his name, tried to be as happy but clearly couldn't quite understand that you were never coming back. He would wait by the door sometimes, Toshinori having to carry him to bed because he thought you'd come walking through.

Koda however, he was just three. He probably wouldn't even be able to remember your face in a year's time.

And through all this, Toshinori barely just passed his UA entrance exam, only getting in through recommendation and nothing more considering he was too busy keeping track of all his brothers and keeping his disconnected father alive, to study for the written exam.

Toshinori wondered how on earth you did it. How you kept track of five boys all at once. How you managed to keep this family together through everything.

Because Toshinori was at his wits end and he realised something painful...

He'd never be you.

Toshinori stopped himself from leaving the master bedroom. He dropped his head. "You know... you're really selfish." He said outloud. "You are really really selfish."

He was met with silence was more. He turned to look at his father who's back was turned away from him, looking to your side of the bed where it was empty and it didn't smell like you anymore.

Toshinori tried to fight the rising bile of disgust and anger that was in his throat. "You just lay there and do nothing while I'm doing my best to keep us together!" Toshinori shouted as he motioned to his father. "Ever since mom-" Toshinori's throat closed up, being unable to see say it. He scowled disappointed in himself, tears flowing to his eyes. "You haven't been here. I need you to be here! We need you! Your sons need you! We don't have anybody else!" He shouted.

He was once again met with silence, dead stagnant silence.

Toshinori squeezed his eyes shut, letting the fat Midoriya tears flow from his eyes. "I lost my mom..." He let out weakly. "Your wife... I know how it feels but please... Dad please..." His voice cracked as he stared at his father's form. "I can't do this by myself. It's suffocating me. Please..."

His father didn't respond. He didn't move. He didn't speak.

Just nothing.

The fourteen year old lost all emotion to his face. He let out a scoff as he wiped his face with his sleeve. "What did I expect from you?" He let out lowly as he walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Toshinori went straight to his room, placing the plate on his desk and closing his door. He walked straight to bed, too tired to even look at whatever homework he had to do or whatever studying he should probably touch up on. He fell back, staring up at the ceiling.

Suddenly his phone screen lit up.

Weakly he grabbed it off his bed side and looked at the screen.

(1) Memories from this day a few years ago.

Toshinori knew that sometimes the cloud storage recommended photos and videos from years back, but this was an odd one.

He tapped the notification. It was a video. Toshinori sighed, debating whether or whether not to watch it. Not seeing anything better to do, he tapped it.

The video started dark first but then light appeared. The camera work was shaky but then a laugh was heard. The camera panned to a young Toshinori, just a year old, who was sitting in a high chair with his chubby face covered in icing and cake crumbs. "Toshinori!"

The sound of his mother's voice made him still. Tears burned at his eyes just hearing your voice and your laughter.

The little baby looked up at the camera before laughing. The sound of his father's own laughter sounded closer than yours. You stepped into the frame with a cloth in hand. "You've got cake all over your face, baby." You said amusedly as you tried to clean him and his chubby grabby hands. "He's just happy about his birthday cake." Izuku said as he held the camera. "You only turn one once." You chuckled as you finally had your son clean, his big eyes blinking as you picked him up out of his chair. "That's true..." Finally your face was in view. Beautiful and lovely as you looked at Toshinori with so much love and devotion. "Oh my big boy. Look at how big you are already? My little hero." You laughed brining your nose to his. Toshinori giggled in the video, putting his now clean hands on your face. You smiled dearly, putting a kiss to his face. "Happy birthday, Toshinori!" Then the camera flipped and his father was there too. Izuku laughed as he pulled you and Toshinori into a hug, the three of you together. He had a bright smile on his freckled face. "Happy birthday, Toshinori." "Izuku did you take a picture?" His father moved his face close to the screen. "Oh this is a video." "Izuku!"

At the tone that you said his father's name Toshinori couldn't help but laugh. You always said his name like that when he says or does something wrong. The video ended with that. And that's when Toshinori remembered that you always used to send this video to his phone on his birthday.

Which only meant one thing.

Toshinori scrolled up to see birthday wishes and messages that were unopened on his phone.

It was 11pm...

and today was his birthday.

Izuku wasn't sure what it was about what Toshinori had said but the moment the boy left. He felt some semblance of control over himself. He had been stuck in a constant state of nothingness, feeling nothing, experiencing nothing, thinking about nothing, other than the fact that you weren't here anymore.

But now... now he felt like you'd be so disappointed in him.

Izuku buried his face in his pillow.

His boys. His wonderful boys that you gave him and look at what he was doing to them.

He couldn't for the life of him, feel like a responsible adult. In his mid fourties, having lost nearly a third of the weight he was before you had died and here he was rotting away like a sad worm.

Izuku reached over to grab his phone that was probably dead, to his surprise wasn't and he tapped the first person he thought of calling.

"... Izuku?! Is... Is that you?"

At the sound of his mother's voice, Izuku felt like putting down. He wasn't worthy to talk to her when she was spending everyday here, taking care of his own children while he felt like a failure.

"Izuku! Izuku if its you... please say something..."

"... Okaasan..." His voice was hoarse from lack of use and honestly he couldn't rememeber him ever sounding like that.

But his mother knew her son when she heard him and she let out a relieved sigh. "Oh thank God. I'm sorry I'm not there. I had to come home and get my laundry washed and buy a few things for the boys. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Izuku didn't answer immediately but he let out a shaky breath. "I... I need help."

-Glitch1d

moral of the story, Izuku gets help and he tries to come back into the boys' lives. He disconnects for the most part. But it's understandable, but still painful

#mha x y/n #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya angst #izuku midoriya angst #deku angst #bnha #deku x reader #midoriya x reader #dilf midoriya #dilf izuku midoriya #dilf izuku x reader

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piastri-lover · 10 months

Text

my flower; charles leclerc

summary: in which the internet is so whipped for charles leclerc's girlfriend, and she loves them all back

pairing: charles leclerc x florist!reader

author's note: loved this request so much, was so fun to scroll through pinterest for fun flower photos lol x

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 412057 others yourusername life recently... view comments

user1 i wish i was her -user2 agreed she's so pretty

charles_leclerc love u forever xx -yourusername love u forever + 1 xx

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️❤️

user3 y/n's making bracelets guys... -user4 i would die to have a braclet made by y/n

pierregasly he's smiling reading through all these comments -charles_leclerc pierre shut up --yourusername aww charlie xx

user5 is it just me who's convinced she's fake -user6 yeah there's no way that anyone's that nice all the time

user7 i'm sorry but how did charles of all people pull her -user8 drop dead gorgeous

user9 i bought some flowers from her shop in monaco the other day and she was the sweetest girl ever and the flowers were divine -yourusername thank you!! so glad u loved ur flowers xx

user10 i would smash icl liked by charles_leclerc -user10 woah

~~~

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 6293028 others charles_leclerc my sweet girl x view comments

user11 THE LAST PHOTO????? -user12 it feels so strange seeing y/n (the sweetest girl alive) doing anything other than smiling or holding flowers

yourusername mon amour x -charles_leclerc mon ange x

user13 mother is mothering -user14 need me a girl to gather flowers and just be pretty

user15 who's punching -user16 charles 100% --user17 i think she is ---user18 can't we just say both of them are fit and be done with it

lilymhe the flowers you brought to mine were gorgeous bbg x -yourusername anything for u ml x --charles_leclerc @/alexalbon we've been replaced ---alex_albon always knew this day would come

~~~

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 4192036 others charles_leclerc always a good day when she sends u flowers view comments

user19 get u someone who sends u flowers every week -user20 need me a florist girlfriend like now

yourusername knew u would love them sweetheart -charles_leclerc never doubted u for a second

yourusername love u charlie x -charles_leclerc not as much as me x --pierregasly we get it ur in love shut up about it

user21 im sorry but they're the prettiest flower ever liked by yourusername-user22 go to 'y/n's flowers' in monaco u will not be disappointed

user23 missed seeing y/n in the paddock this weekend -yourusername i was swamped with work so i couldn't make it but will fs be there after the summer break x

user24 best wag? best wag

user25 charles has bagged the best girl liked by charles_leclerc

~~~

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 1029363 others yourusername summer of love view comments

user26 wish i was her -user27 bitch i wish i was him so i could be with her

charles_leclerc every second with u is magical -yourusername wish i could spend every day with u --landonorris u make me sick

pierregasly we've been on holiday for 2 days and u havent let go of each other -yourusername u wish u were holding charles huh?? --pierregasly Y/N STOP TWISTING MY WORDS!!

user28 im sorry shes stunning -user29 drop dead gorgeous --user30 body fucking goals

user31 sleeping on the highway tonight

user32 if anyone had to date charles i would want it to be y/n -user33 who gave u the right to say that --user32 bitch it was a joke calm down

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marshmallow-rainbow139 · 11 months

Text

Things the Batkids have said about Batmom (Anne Wayne)

"MAMMMA!"

"Don't tell mom!"

"Better call your mommy, you thug! Oh, shit! I forgot to call Ma today!"

"Im only here because mom promised cookies."

"Mom, did you replace my coffee for decaf again?"

"Wait until my mother gets here! She's scarier than Batman!"

"Who is more likely to get mad? Bruce or mom? Mom, obviously!"

"My mom says you can spend the night as long as your mentor is okay with it."

"Bro, mom is going to kill you if you die!"

"Ma, don't worry, it's not my blood!"

"Do you think Ummi will allow me to adopt this baby dragon?"

"MAAAAAA!"

"Mom, did you see my knife?"

"Sorry! I can't go on patrol; my mom grounded me."

"Mom said it's my turn to drive the batmobile!"

"You go ask her! You're her favorite!"

"MOOOOOOM!"

"Don't bleed on mom's favorite chair!"

"I tried the puppy eyes, but they don't work on her anymore."

"Who snitched on me to Ma!?"

"Well, guess that leads me to Plan B... MOOOOM!!"

"I think for Ma's sake and her blood pressure, it is best not to tell her that I got shot."

"Whatever they told you, mom, it's a lie!"

"MOOOTHEEER!"

"Got you, mother fucker! Mooom, get off the coms!"

"Surrender, Poison Ivy! Wait, hold on a second. My mom told me to tell you, Thank you for the advice you gave her; the roses are blooming!"

"Hey Harley, my mom says she wishes you would tell her when you escape prison. She misses having a girl's night with you and Ivy!"

"UUUMMMIII!"

#batman #batfamily #batmom #Anne Wayne

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 11 months

Note

Sad Conrad request. Surprising him at the beach house and being there through the hard moments with his mom

Grab your tissues, this is a sad one

Warnings: mention of cancer/death

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’She won’t get better. It’s too late,’’ a crying Conrad said through the phone one late evening of May.

You sat up in your bed, giving him your best attention as your heart clenched.

These past few months, Susannah had been trying a new treatment for her cancer. She initially didn’t want to do it, but she would do anything for her boys. It’s been tough for her and the boys, physically and emotionally, but Susannah was a fighter. If she could beat cancer once, she could do it again, right?

Today, she had an appointment with her oncologist to see if the treatment was working. Conrad had been very stressed over it, calling you more often just to hear your reassuring words. You stayed optimistic for his sake, but you couldn’t lie to him. There were chances the treatment did not work.

‘’S-she’s gonna die.’’ His voice cracked at the last word, causing a tear to slip down your face.

That night, you almost booked a flight to Boston just to hold him in your arms.

When June came, you all went to Cousins’ beach for the last time. The last summer, her last summer.

On the day of the Fishers’ arrival, you sat on Conrad’s perfectly made bed and waited for him to walk through his door. It felt strange to be alone in their holiday house. Susannah had helped you plan the surprise for Conrad, mailing you a double of the keys a week before their arrival. He had been taking care of her so well during her treatment, she wanted to thank him in a special way.

You heard the door open downstairs, Conrad and Jeremiah’s voices soon filling the house. A know formed in your stomach, excited and nervous at the same time. Susannah’s voice mixed with the two, asking Conrad to take the bags upstairs.

The stairs creaked under his steps, listening as he took his mother’s bags to her room first, then his own. You held your breath as you saw the doorknob turn, soon revealing the boy you had missed so much with one bag over his shoulder and his suitcase in his other hand.

A mix of complete surprise and confusion spread on his face when he saw you sitting there on his bed.

‘’Hi.’’ You stood and a smile curled on Conrad’s lips for the first time in a while.

He dropped his bag and the suitcase’s handle and rushed over to you, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you from the ground. You wrapped your own arms around his neck as your legs did the same to his waist, finally in each other‘s hold.

‘’What are you doing here? You said you wouldn’t be here until Sunday.’’

You pulled back slightly, pushing that one piece of hair from his pretty eyes. You missed him and the soft smile he only kept for you. ‘’I drove here two days early to surprise you.’’

‘’Consider me surprised,’’ he said, closing the space between you and kissing you for the first time since spring break. Without breaking the kiss, Conrad took you to his bed, toppling on it in a mess of tangled limbs. ‘’How did you get in? Did you pick our backdoor?’’

‘’Susannah.’’

His eyebrows drew closer. ‘’My mom?’’

You nodded.

For a very short moment, Conrad was happy. And it was all because of you — with the help of Susannah.

As the summer went by, and Conrad was turning into a shell of his person. He was barely ever leaving the beach house or his mother’s side, wanting to spend as much time with her as possible before the end.

Since her last scan, the cancer had spread. She was getting more sick each day, becoming more tired and frail every time you saw her. Her blond hair was gone, replaced by a bandana that covered her bald head.

It was sad to watch.

‘’I hate to make this all about me, but who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do if my mom’s not there?’’ Conrad asked one night you were sitting on the back porch, his feet dipped in the pool water.

‘’You can talk to me. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.’’ You put your hand on his shoulders and he started to sob as you felt your own tears blurring your vision.

‘’She’s too young to die. She’ll never come to my college graduation or Jere’s high school graduation.’’

A few weeks later, you and Conrad were watching a movie in the living room, when Susannah came to get a glass of water. Conrad had fallen asleep against you, too tired to stay up late like he used to these days. You asked if she needed your help, but she smiled and said she was okay.

Before going back to her room, she came to the living room and put her hand on your arm. ‘’Thank you for being there for Connie. He doesn’t say, but he’s taking it the hardest. When I… He’s gonna take it the hardest.’’ She looked down at her son, a sad smile on her lips and tears welling in her eyes. ‘’Please take care of him.’’

When Susannah took her last breath, the weather was gloomy and dark outside, reflecting perfectly the feeling of the coming weeks.

You got the call at 3am and drove down to Boston, to the Fishers’ home. A red-eyed teary Jeremiah answered the door. You gave him a long hug, then headed to Conrad’s room. Laurel and her kids were there, all grieving the loss of a close friend — a non-blood-related family member.

As you entered Conrad's room, the somber atmosphere weighed heavily. The curtains were shut, plunging the room into semi-darkness, illuminated by the smallest crack of light coming from the top of the window. On the bed was Conrad, still in his clothes from last night, crying in silence and holding the old shark plushie his mother got him as a child. It had seen better days and was missing one eye, he hadn’t let go of it since coming home from the hospital.

His shoulders stiffened when he heard the door opening, about to rudely shoo out whoever had come to check on him, but relaxed when he saw you. Your hair was gathered in a loose ponytail, strands framing your face, and your shirt was an old one of Conrad’s, but none of that mattered to him. There was no one else he wanted to see beside his mom than you.

Lifting his head from the shark plushie, the steady flow of tears on his face. breaking your heart. His blue eyes, once vibrant, were now red and swollen from hours of crying, just like his brother’s.

You opened your mouth to speak, but words seemed inadequate in the face of such profound loss. So you said nothing.

You laid with him on the bed, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and pulling him into you like you had done these past months. The second his face met your chest, his sobs filled the room, finally allowing himself to let go now that you were there to catch him.

Rare were the times you had seen Conrad, but it was heartbreaking every time. You rubbed circles around his back and rested your cheek on his head, feeling his tears soak your shirt as he cried, silent tears falling from your own eyes.

You stayed like that for what felt like hours — just the two of you laying on his bed. Laurel didn’t bother checking on him, knowing he was well taken after with you. It was a weight off her shoulders, one less thing she needed to worry about.

As the night was starting to fall outside, you felt Conrad's breathing even out, telling you he had fallen asleep. You didn't know how long he had been up for, but he must've been exhausted — in every way.

You carefully reached out to grab the soft blanket from behind him, trying to not wake him, but Conrad tightened his grip on you as he sensed your movement, afraid of losing the anchor that kept him grounded.

‘’Don’t leave me too,’’ he mumbled, his voice so small and weak you didn't hear it.

You stayed still, frozen by his words. The vulnerability in his voice pierced your heart, and you realized that even in his sleep, his fear of abandonment lingered.

Gently, you brushed your fingers through his hair, softly whispering back to him in reassurance. ‘’I'm not going anywhere. I promise. I'll be right here when you wake up.’’

You vowed to be there for him, to support him through the darkest hours of his journey, and you planned on keeping that promise you made to Susannah, even if it meant staying up all night holding him or skipping a few days of classes at college.

With great care, you shifted your position, sliding out from under him just enough to reach the blanket. As you draped it over both of you, he instinctively clung tighter to you, seeking the comfort of your presence.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1

#conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher x you #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine

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allthornsnopetals · 15 days

Text

You are a Fool E.Bridergton

Description: "I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you." Oh, how the times have changed since, Y/n last exchanged words with Eloise. Perhaps, now Eloise wished to kiss the young lady as Suitors sweep the beauty off her feet.

Warning: 18+ content

Y/n rolls her eyes at the sight of her family home, wishing to be back in Paris, sipping wine and indulging in their fruity society. But she had been summoned home after years receiving education in the city of love, and flamboyance. The season is soon to begin and she were to be wed, and soon, God help the man to court Lady Delacour, and her spicy tastes may.

She grimaced, entering the familiar abode, shouldering off her cloak, and handing it to the servant.

"Y/n, how it is good to finally see you again. I see a young Lady had blossomed, let me get a better look at you." Said Edger, Y/n's eldest brother and heir to the Delacour dynasty, his arms stretched out, waiting for them to be filled.

Y/n grinned, gliding with haste to fill her brother's arms. "It is good to finally have you home!" Another familiar voice, male, called, joining the embrace.

"Hello to you, too, Evon." She chuckles, fighting for air as another and another joins the already crowded hug.

"Hamish, you're poking me." Harwin growls, jabbing his twin brother in the rib.

Due to their fighting, the elder siblings broke a part, all but one watching with amusement. "Stop it! Or I'll knock the sense out of you both, no questions asked!" Edger scolds, pointing his finger in their faces, hunched over like he were their mother.

The boys were two years younger compared to Y/n, but they had grown into young men, taller, too. But still, they beaker, unable to control themselves, even now, seconds after she had returned home. Some things just do not change.

Y/n is the second youngest with two elder brothers and two younger ones, all without a sister for almost eleven years, until now as the season of the debutantes begins, calling for the remaining Lady to be courted. She were not the only woman, for a while, that is. Her mother had kept their family in company for most of Y/n's youth, that was until her passing: childbirth, a scary and terrifying way to die, but it took her final breaths and the opportunity for another sister.

Her passing had driven her family into the dark days, she called it. The days of morning, that drew into months and almost a year before her father had sent her away, unable to bear the face that held his late-wife. Sent away for ten years, until she were eligible for marriage. Any remaining rough edges, had been smoothed over, replaced with rounder, softer and smoother ones, instead.

She were a wild one, even before the passing of her mother. Being sent away surely did her some good, if it also didn't make her miss the french and their stunning cities. Men and women were open about their desires, and encouraged others to indulge in the simplest lust or flame, man or woman, thin or thick, white or black. France is the place of love in different fonts and shapes, Y/n took it a little too literally, with her eyes wandering over from men to women, from women to men.

White, black, she ate. Heavy or light, she ate. Men or women, she ate! French men had a talent of mouth and hands, they preferred head or a work of a gentle hand, oh and how they were talented, or obsessed with ass. The men Y/n spread her wings for, always went for head, fingers, or anal, which she finds divine. The women... Oh Y/n doesn't know where to begin, they were skilled with finding the pleasure of their sexual partner, and always aroused some unknown kink.

But now, she were home and a dinner party is to be held in her return, all close to her family is to attend, and Y/n is to get ready.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Not, too tight, is it?" Asked Daisy, your hand maiden, tightening Y/n's corset. She made a small attempt to smile.

"Is my waist, not slim enough?" She asks instead of replying to her question. Daisy simply nods, loosening the reins of the fabric.

A shaky breath of short relief slips past her lips, her eyes closing with a hand smoothing over her stomach, glad the presser had subsided. Y/n had never been one for corsets, always finding them ridiculous, like a certain someone, whom her cheeks still burn for: Eloise Bridergtion, the first person to ever reject a simple peck to the cheek.

"I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you."

She grinned at the last and final memory she shared with her, so young and sure both girls and boys had cooties. Eloise allowed no one, not even her own papa to kiss her cheek or hold her hand. She was so paranoid, she wore gloves to prevent some sort of plague, she were sure it was real.

"Emerald green or sapphire blue." Daisy said, allowing Y/n to peer inside the two containers.

She wondered for some time, biting her lip as she thought. "I have jewels that would look fabulous with the blue gown," She says, gliding her fingers over the fabric. "Sapphire blue, please."

After a few moments, she was ready. Her hair flowed freely, decorated with blue flowers as a half crown. A wide diamond necklace, rounder her neck with pearl sized sapphires clipped to her ears. Daisy worked at staining her lips a shade of cherry wine before tinting her cheeks with peach blush. Lastly her slippers slipped on her feet with a dab of floral perfume on her neck, wrists and jaw.

"Your thoughts, ma'am." Said Daisy, allowing Y/n to admire her work in the vanity mirror.

"Wonderful as always. Come for me when the party begins."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Stop fiddling, you look like a fool." Violet hissed, forcing Eloise to stand up straight and still, for the most part.

"She is nervous, mama. She hasn't seen Y/n for many years, afraid she might not recognize her." Said Daphne, sipping her sparkly liquid, sure to be alcohol.

Eloise stuck her tongue out, not even trying to hide her immature behavior. "Am not. I am perfectly well, just a bit sweaty that is." She jeered, chugging a glass of liquid courage.

Of course she were nervous, jumping on the balls of her feet with anxiety. She has not seen her dear friend, Y/n for ten years, and still she wished to have allowed her to peck her cheek, goodbye. Perhaps, then she would have had a fond memory and not one filled with tears, and anger. Eloise was more than angry to see her leave, and even depressed at not snagging herself a kiss, even if it were an innocent peck on the cheek. She would have cherished it, like her books. She thought of her everyday, staring out the window, hoping to see Y/n walk to steps to her door, but that hope was just that: hope. She thought herself foolish for some time, that was until the invention to the Delacour Mansion arrived, speaking of a welcome home ball for the only daughter, Y/n Eliza Delacour.

Eloise near fainted. She were to see her friend again! To hear her voice again! To finally fill the duo to a trio, once more: her, Pen and Y/n. The golden girls back together again.

But even with such electricity, it were hard on Eloise to not pick up her skirts and run for the hills, and dunk her head in a bucket of cold ice water. For her thoughts have always been far from platonic for Lady Y/n, a girl she wished to have shared a kiss with before her departure, regretting her poorly chosen words.

"I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you."

Eloise still remembered the hot tears streaming down her cheeks, as if it were yesterday, the guilt still so fresh. She was sure she had lost a friend.

"Well, she's right there. If you are so clear minded, go say hello to her." Daphne stepped aside, allowing Eloise to a route to Y/n.

"Righty then, I will." She huffed, sticking up her nose, and marching off.

Oh what the fuck! She thought gliding her way towards Y/n, dodging bodies and frantic house guests, all bubbling with the return of the sapphire of House Delacour.

As she drew closer, the more frightened Eloise became, terror eating at her. Completely ignore Hyacinth, thundering towards her with Gregory hot on her toes. It was far too late, she was already pooling forward, her arms outstretched, lips releasing a gasp.

But the impact to the hard cool floor did not come, she lay comfortably in a set of arms, holding her steadily, combing back runaway hair. "El?" Her stomach churned, the voice so familiar her stomach had a wakened.

Eloise's throat ran dry and tight, her eyes meeting the gaze of her old friend, her cheeks burning with an embarrassed grin, curving her lips. Y/n steered a sound of surprise and excitement, pulling her into her arms.

"It is you! Thank goodness! I almost didn't recognize you. I missed you and Pen. Talking about Pen, where is she?" Y/n mutters, her breath fanning Eloise's ear.

Eloise swallows hard.

I almost didn't recognize you.

Perhaps, she did fear that Y/n would be unable to identify her, thinking she had forgotten the way she looked. But that fear slowly faded as she sank into her arms, taking in her scent with a sharp breath: Oranges, lemons and pomegranates. Oh, how she missed her. She held onto for a moment longer, until the thought of Penelope whisked her mind.

Pulling a part, Eloise avoided Y/n's gaze. As if she knew something were wrong Y/n guided both her and Eloise to the library, where no one was allowed in, making sure to shut the door behind them.

"Ellie, what happened when I was away? Why is Pen not by your side?" Once the words were out, she felt a fool for asking such things.

"There was a falling out." Said Y/n, now knowing why the two peas were not together.

Eloise bit back a tear, nodding in clarification. Y/n sighed, taking her place in her arms, stroking her hair, pulling out built up tears that welled up inside her. No golden girls, after all.

She wept, holding her so tightly, it could break Y/n ribs.

"Tell me what happened." Y/n sat them both down at the cushioned love seat near the back, hidden from anyone who were to burst in.

Eloise sniffled, her hand held into hers, a smile gracing her lips. "You were always the nurse, always caring about us before yourself. Always patching us up with gentle hands and warm arms, never taking a moment peace for yourself." She laughs wetly, wiping her tears with the back of her gloved hand.

Y/n tsk's, swatting her hand from her face, wanting her not to ruin her make up, wiping her salty river away with her finger tips, their gaze finding one another. "Don't, you'll ruin your gloves." She pulls the fabric from Eloise's hands, placing them on the small coffee table, rolling her thumb over her open palm, an old habit, too good for her to ridden.

Eloise shook her head. "No, just tell me everything about Paris and your travels. I want to know. You must have had the best time." She forced a smile, squeezing Y/n's hands, wanting to change the subject.

"Only if you inform me of what happened." Her tone was cool, almost demanding, Eloise didn't recognize the woman in front of her. Couldn't decipher who she was, yes she looked the same—almost, if it weren't for the sudden bloom of her breasts—and even acted the same, with habits she still lingered with and nature she has long but permanently made one with herself. But she were all grown up now, mature and knowing, bold and daring with her tone, her chin held high, eyes leveled and commanding.

Her heart gave a giddy squeeze, if she were to stare at her any longer, Eloise would spill all her secrets. But not tonight, only for tonight she were to explain the happenings between her and Penelope.

She began with her interest in the unmasking of Lady Whistledown, from there everything progressively got worse and impossibly worse, that Y/n had rang for tea, biscuits and all sorts of sweets, sucked away from her own ball, too invested of what she were hearing. Eloise paused, gulping as if she were nervous for the following words.

"If I don't unmask this anonymous author, everyone in town would know... They'll know that I'm," She chokes, head buried in Y/n's lap, soothed by her elegant lull, her fingers combing through her hair. "Say, no more. Pen thinks it unwise to identify, Lady Whistledown. And she won't help it's sim-

"No! I know she is Lady Whistledown— I feel it in my bones and she will ruin me if everyone knew," She lashes out of her lap, tears streaming down her face. "Knew what?" Y/n coaxes her back into her, wiping her tears away, staring down at her.

Eloise sniffles, choking, blowing her nose in a handkerchief. "If everyone knew I were lesbian. Y/n it will ruin my family, greatly."

Silence followed, Y/n frozen, staring down with her eyes agape. Eloise swallowed harshly, fear running through her. Before she could say anything, Y/n was already moving, standing, and beginning to pace, warming herself near the fire.

"Times have really never changed, here?" Y/n gaped, panic rising in her like a forest fire. "Anyone identified as queer would be ruined, even their families... I should have never returned, I should have stayed in Paris, be free to be who I wished. Eloise, would Lady Whistledown, target anyone with queer traits."

"It's Lady Whistledown, what do you think?"

"Noooo, I need to pack and leave. Run back to Paris. Fake my death?" Y/n was beginning to sound crazy to Eloise.

Why is she panicking? Unless... "You're queer..." It sounded more like a question than a statement. Y/n stomps over to her hastily, cupping her hand over her lips, hovering over her, pressing her into the cushions.

"Must you speak so loudly. And if you must know, I'm bisexual. I have been aware of my fruity tastes for a long while, even far before my trip to Paris, only there did I explode myself, if you understand what I mean." She was so close, Eloise could smell her, her scent so intoxicating.

She slowly, slid her palm away, rolling her thumb over her lips, almost relishing in the feeling. "Tell no one." Her voice, smooth and oddly sweet, in her ears.

"Tell, no one got it." Eloise nods, cheeks burning a vibrant pink. "You're blushing. El, do I make you blush?" Y/n grins, leaning closer, her breath tickling her lips.

Her breathing rose, strangling Eloise, realizing if she to move, even in the slightest her lips would meet Y/n's.

Kiss me, god just kiss me. Release me of this burden.

With no answer, Y/n lent into her shoulder, snatching the exposed skin between her lips, bodies pressed together.

"Would, you rather lose an eye than kiss me." Said Y/n, her words passing through Eloise's skin.

Eloise sucked air into her lungs, tilting Y/n's chin, her eyes meeting hers. "I did not mean what I said then. I wanted you to kiss me, take me with you, be with you. Y/n I have hungered for you, for so long," She paused, gaze taking in every detail of the beauty in her view.

"I feared you'll never return, and I'll starve without you. You're my water and my meal, I'll go parch and go hungry without you. No, I'd rather not lose an eye than kiss you." Her words hung in the gap, so true, it made Y/n's heart dance.

Without another word, she dragged her chin, her lips meeting Y/n's. Eloise moaned, fire bubbling in her stomach, a whizzing boom going off in her ears. Fireworks, booming in the distance, sparks flying. She has been waiting for this, waiting for the right kiss, and this was it. In its gentleness something exciting happened, life.

She couldn't stop the smile, glad she had chosen to keep both her eyes and kiss the girl she has been starving for, for so long. "What are you smiling about?" Asked Y/n, breaking the kiss and grinning down at her.

"Nothing, truly." Eloise giggled, thumb grazing Y/n's lips. "Kiss me again." She orders, pulling Y/n back down, slamming her lips against hers.

Hers hands wander down her back, groping Y/n's ass, rewarding her a gasp, allowing a way past her lips.

Y/n straightens herself up, gasping for air, Eloise's hands gripping her hips. "Have you had sex with a woman before?" Eloise's eyes widened, her lips plump and red. "No... Not at all."

"Have you touched yourself." Y/n removed her gloves, tossing them aside, undoing her dress. "Yes, I have." She grinned, pulling her dress over her head.

"Do you wish to have sex?" She asked, stiffing a laugh at Eloise's reaction to her almost bare body.

She didn't say a word, but nodded frantically, working on her own dress, sitting up to allow Y/n to pull it off her. Once removed, their lips met again, a bit sloppily but Eloise wasn't really taking her time, to high on the moment.

Eloise desperately worked at Y/n's corset, wanting it off as Y/n took her time, knowing the thread of corset with her eyes closed. "Slow down, El. I'm going nowhere." She pants against her lips, noting her lids were already lust shot.

"Calm yourself." She tosses her corset before doing the same to Eloise's. Chest bare for only a minute, before Eloise latches her lips to her left nipple, sucking and licking with her right accompanied by her hand, kneading the flesh.

Rolling her eyes back, her head slowly fell back, moans spilling from her lips. Her hand lingered past her panties, fingers passing her folds, working at her pussy, fucking herself. Biting on her lip, she focuses on pleasing herself, rolling her hips in her own hand, mouth agape. Eloise detaches herself from her breasts, allowing her to fall back, watching her fuck herself, legs spread, gaze locked on hers.

"Come here."

She listens and crawls over to her, watching Y/n remove her digest from her cunt, wet and glossy. "Open," She orders, satisfied as Eloise takes her fingers into her mouth, moaning and sucking on them. "Drink me." She coos, pulling Eloise closer, pulling both their panties off, lining their cunts together before dragging her fingers out of her mouth.

"Grind your pretty little cunt on mine, it will make you feel good." She did not have to do much convincing, for it only took Eloise but a moment to adjust herself, starting to rock her hips.

"Like that?" She asks, moving slowly. "Just a bit to the le-"

She threw her head back, Eloise resting her head on her shoulder, moaning as she gripped her ass, speeding up her pace. Y/n held her close, rocking her hips against hers, rubbing their sex together, in a tangle of limbs. Humping harder and harder, Eloise was cutting it close to the edge but Y/n was just getting started, if the two were to both wish to orgasm tonight, it will be a long night indeed.

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devildomwriter · 3 months

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Our Greatest Hope | Obey Me Short Story

1.4K | GN! AFAB! Reader x Diavolo | CW: Mentions of parenting, labor, aging, faith, slight angst

There has never been a being like your son. Half human, half demon, with angel blood. What will he become? Can you lead a child with such power and influence down the right path, will he be like his father or will his human side make him vulnerable?

“I’ll never let harm come to you. The world will be yours my dearest son. You are our greatest hope. Surely a child born of three worlds will be the one to unite them.” The promise left Diavolo’s lips as he held your pregnant stomach, head resting against it.

True to his word, your son would have everything he could ever need.

At first, it was scary. Diavolo’s mother had died giving birth, even with all their magic and advanced technology, giving birth was still dangerous. The one who gave birth to the devil’s son would always come across some misfortune during pregnancy or labor, whether it be constant nausea or intense labor pain. You and Diavolo knew this and though he was more hesitant than you, you decided to bear his child.

Would his Human side hinder him or help him? Would he age just as quickly as a human, and die just as easily? Would his wings and horns be pronounced? Would the Devildom accept a Cambion with angel blood as their true leader?

So many worries plagued your mind but the instant you first saw your son, your worries melted and were replaced with love. Your son was different from the beginning. He did not cry or laugh when he was born, he was silent and his tiny squinting golden eyes were observant of everything.

Diavolo cradled both you and your son during your duration in the Demon Lord Castle’s medical wing. After a few weeks of observation you could return to your room with Diavolo and your child stayed in his crib near your side.

He was still quiet. He never cried in the middle of the night but sometimes when you went to check on him he’d be awake. Bright eyes looked around the room before locking onto you and reaching out his hands.

His silence worried you and Diavolo at first but after a while, he began trying to mimic your words and eventually, he learned to call for you through infantile shouts rather than crying.

After a few months, he cried for the first time. His horns were coming in. Unlike his father whose horns grew from the sides of his skull, his horns protruded from the top of his forehead and grew upwards, slightly arched back.

By a year his wings took form. He only had one pair, they were larger and black with a slight red coloring like his father’s. By a year and a half, he looked like a true demon. Appearing human and hiding his wings and horns was too much to ask of a small child so you hid them with magic whenever you visited the human world, friends, and family.

When he was two years old he became a big brother and his sister was nothing at all like him. She was loud, fussy, and demanded attention, and when she wanted something she cried, she could fake her tears after a few weeks.

Your son did not understand this behavior, he was confused and you often found him in his bed with a pillow over his head. He had the senses of a demon, so it was inevitable he’d hear his sister cry. You did not get much sleep during this time nor did your husband, Diavolo.

As soon as your son could crawl he was trying to follow his father to work. If Diavolo stopped walking, so did your son. He was his father’s shadow before he even knew this was his duty.

When he was old enough to understand Diavolo had a private talk with your son, explaining what was expected of him as the prince. Although he did not quite understand the gravity, your son knew he was important and that he needed to be like his dad. Thus, he became even more of Diavolo’s shadow.

His sister however did not follow in his footsteps, for this reason even though he was barely more than a toddler he became his sister’s keeper, and eventually his brothers’ too.

In a way, he saw his siblings as practice. He needed to be a good example and a good leader, but he was still a child. Even though he’d always been mature for his age, it was still easy to give into temptation and his sister was an excellent demon, convincing him to wait up for Santa, to sneak snacks from the kitchen, to stay up late, and more.

In some ways, it was a relief to see him act like a child but Barbatos became worried and attended to your son’s younger siblings more so that Diavolo could focus on bringing up his son.

Diavolo was an anxious mess during his son’s formative years. Was he doing this right? He didn’t have a father to turn to. He wasn’t sure if his father was so strict with him for his own sake or if he was resentful his wife had died to birth him. Was he supposed to be very strict with his son? He didn’t want to be neglectful but his son needed to grow on his own too. There were so many contradicting points when it came to being a good parent and a good king.

Your son was sometimes confused too. He knew his dad didn’t like to scold him but he knew his dad was worried he wasn’t doing things right.

Your son had been perceptive from the moment he was born. He knew more than you and Diavolo could have imagined and the older he became the more you understood this.

You never saw him study Latin but he knew the language fluently, you never told him about the brothers’ history but he knew it as well as you, there were so many things you discovered about him every day and as you did so he was learning something else.

You would never forget the horrified expression on your young son when his father showed him the most critical part of their job—to judge and punish souls. Why did a dog killer go to heaven and an orphanage director go to hell? Because of faith? Why was this fair? He was meant to be the opposing side to the person who created everything. He was at a disadvantage from the start. He was meant to be evil and govern all forms of it but your son was nothing like that.

He did not embody evil, he did not embrace evil, and he did love a prank or two but he never started them. He wasn’t chaotic like his father. Like his father he was considerate but like you, he was so very human.

Indeed the son of the demon king and the future ruler of hell had a human heart and a loving soul. A soul so pure he could ascend to the Celestial Realm. As happy as you were your son was a good person and yours and Diavolo’s parenting had shaped a humble prince and not an arrogant one, only time would tell if this human heart was fit to rule hell.

Thanks to your magic and your vows with Diavolo, you lived a very long time. Thousands upon thousands of years and Earth ended and began anew many times. Each time you, Diavolo, and your son worked hard to bring this new generation of humans to peace with your realm. It worked every time but as Revelations determined, evil rose and a faction of demon rebels would invade the earth. The angels and two humans would defeat them and the bridges would slowly be mended again and again.

Your son disliked this even more than Diavolo. He was done with human suffering, with demons being the blame, and with angels blaming all demons when only a few were responsible.

Thousands of years later when your son took the crown he would be the shining example of peace between the realms. A demon king with the blood of the three worlds, with him, his trusted siblings, leader of the Celestial Realm Seraphim Luke, and the many angels and sorcerers he’d befriended, one day the worlds would see eternal peace.

Those words his father spoke to him as he was still within your womb stayed with him long after you and Diavolo ascended to the Celestial Realm, “You are our greatest hope. Surely a child born of three worlds will be the one to unite them.”

Now nearly a million years old, your son looked at the portrait of you and Diavolo and smiled to himself as he held his own son in his arms. “You did well, you may rest now.” He said softly. His wife came up behind him, his young daughter squirming in her arms.

“Your sisters and brothers are here,” she let him know and he nodded. His daughter sprang free from her mother and clung to his leg. He smiled and held both her and his son as he descended the palace stairs to meet his family.

#obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #obey me devildom #obey me celestial realm #obey me human word #obey me second generation #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo x mc #obey me as dads #obey me short story #obey me imagine #obey me drabble #obey me ficlet #obey me fic #obey me story

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mumms-the-word · 3 months

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Gale and Mystra (and Mystra, and Mystra...)

I did a rabbit hole deep dive into this a few days ago and I have Thoughts. Prepare for long/researched explanations (and by researched I mean I read a lot of wikis and scraps of lore books/novels)

So Mystra dies in the Forgotten Realms something like three times (the “official” number is wibbly because there are many writers messing with Forgotten Realms lore and they don’t always agree). She dies in -339 DR, and then again in 1358 DR, and then kind of again a few months later. Allegedly she stayed dead until 1479-1480, which is roughly 12 years prior to the events of Baldur's Gate 3, but didn't get her body back until 1487, which is 5 years before BG3, which takes place in 1492 (if we're going by the Baldur's Mouth Gazette year).

So...what do we do with that and the current popular theory that Gale was groomed as a child?

If it sounds complicated, don't worry, it's more complicated than you think. Welcome to my TEDTalk. More under the cut.

Mystryl, the first goddess of magic (like, ever) dies hundreds of years prior to the events of BG3 during the Karsus/Netheril debacle. Karsus tried to steal her deity/power and succeeded only to realize his mortal body/mind couldn’t contain or control that much power. Mystryl sacrificed herself (her essence, her power) to keep it out of Karsus’s incapable hands. The Weave went wonky for an indeterminate but brief amount of time, during which the floating cities of Netheril crashed to the ground. This happens in -339 DR, over ~1700 years before BG3. Gale tells us a brief version of this story in his standard dialogue. It's also established lore in campaign books.

Mystryl was reborn as Mystra (still in -339 DR), and this Mystra lasted for AGES. This Mystra is the mother of all magic, the Mystra we basically think of as BG3’s Mystra. This is the Mystra that met and claimed Elminster as one of her Chosen (later they became lovers, it's a whole thing).

But this is complicated. Because in 1358 DR…she dies too.

Long story short, for a brief moment, the Overgod Ao forced all gods to walk Faerûn in their mortal avatar forms and denied them entry into heavens (this was called the Times of Troubles, very complicated, the point is, gods were walking the earth as mortals). Mystra decided to fight Helm, the god guarding the stairway into the heavens, and got promptly smote.

Smitten? Smited? Whatever. Helm DESTROYED her. Death #2.

This time, Ao chose a mortal girl named Midnight to replace Mystra. He imbued Midnight, a wizard girl who worshipped Mystra, with Mystra's powers (Mystra conveniently left an amulet behind with some of her power contained within). Incidentally, the Weave didn't die this time like it did the first time. Convenient!

Midnight-Mystra lasts less than a year before Shar and Cyric (god of trickery) kill her and the Spellplague happens. The Spellplague is basically 10 years of magic going haywire and the Weave kind of ceasing to exist. Again. It's complicated.

Ignoring that some Forgotten Realms writers insist the Spellplague didn't happen, BG3 says it DID. One book in BG3 states:

In the infamous, calamitous year of 1385 DR, a conspiracy between the goddess of darkness, Shar, and the god of trickery, Cyric, sought to end Mystra's control over the Weave and influence over the realms by cravenly assassinating her. But instead of merely breaking the goddess of magic's dominance, her death threw the Weave into utter chaos and collapse. Magic spells faltered, or failed entirely. Countless spellcasters were killed or driven insane... Toril would face nearly a hundred years of upheaval before Mystra could return once again, reinstated as goddess of magic in 1480 DR, thanks to the efforts of the legendary wizard, Elminster Aumar and the events of the Second Sundering...

(Curiously Gale’s Countermeasure Abberation at the Netherbrain fight is called Spellplague so...do with that whatever you want. I mean, I know that’s the Countermeasure for ANY wizard in the party but it feels particularly interesting for Gale. Also we're going to ignore the Second Sundering in this post because that's a whole different rant, just know that the Second Sundering means the state of the world and the pantheon of gods basically got soft reset and then locked into place. Which is why it was important for Mystra to return before that happened, or else she would have gotten locked out of returning at all.)

As far as I can tell, between 1385 and 1479, Mystra was silent. Maybe dead, maybe not. There's some suggestion that she existed in the Weave, because other than the Spellplague period, the Weave still existed. The fact that the Weave exists separately from Mystra is important mostly because Shar wants to turn it into the Shadow Weave, which she can't do if Mystra is alive and maintaining control over the Weave. And if Shar can't control the Weave even while Mystra is silent for 100ish years, then...well. Mystra must not be dead-dead.

More importantly than Shar Politics, her being maybe-dead for almost 100 years means she wasn't whispering in the minds of her Chosen the way gods like her normally do. The wikis mention a comic ("Lord of the Darkways") where Mystra spoke directly to Elminster's mind, but that's the only instance before 1479. Mystra was SILENT before 1479...or at least, very, very, very quiet.

So what happens in 1479? Well, long story short, according to the novel Bury Elminster Deep, Elminster travels to a cave where there is a bear carrying some Mystra's remaining essence/power. Why a bear? I have no idea. Point is, she speaks directly to Elminster and confirms that she is, indeed, Mystra. Specifically, she's pre-Midnight Mystra and also...changed into a newish Mystra.

This is some of what Elminster thinks/says when he's speaking with her and notices she's guarding some artifacts:

“Ye collected these things when ye were Midnight?” El blurted, trembling in a sudden chaos of wanting to know so much, yet not knowing what he dared ask. Her love—or at least fondness—was in his head and all around him, but something was subtly different in it, a distance that had not been there once, or rather one that had grown since Midnight had ascended to replace the Mystra his far younger self had first touched and tasted. Gone was the Mystra whose mind would long ago have merged with his to let them converse wordlessly, thoughts flashing.

Bear!Mystra has been guarding things that Midnight!Mystra collected, things that were important to Mystra!Mystra. Confusing, I know. So who is this current Mystra, speaking to Elminster as a bear? This is the Mystra that would then go on to become lovers with Gale.

Now, I'd argue it's basically all the same Mystra. There was Mystryl and then there was Mystra in her many forms. The Mystra that become lovers with Elminster when she selected him as her Chosen 1300 years ago is the same Mystra that took Gale as a lover too—even if she's died and transformed a couple of times.

It’s worth noting that the novels also sort of mingle all the Mystras into one. In the next novel, Elminster Enraged, when another character called the Simbul (another Chosen of Mystra who is also Mystra’s daughter) is speaking with Mystra, they talk about how Mystra has memories both of previous Mystras and of several Chosen. When the Simbul asks if Mystra can sense her current Chosen, Mystra confirms that she can sense her daughters and Elminster.

“Wasn’t that the Mystra before you?” The Simbul dared to ask. Echoes in the Weave, my daughter, echoes in the Weave…we see and feel so much that happened before us, in the Weave; it becomes part of us, the memories of the Mystra who birthed you becoming part of me, so I become that Mystra…

Anyway. Mystra is Mystra. Basically the same Mystra she's been since the fall of Netheril. Why does that matter? Well.

When Elminster is talking to bear-Mystra, she gives him a command: “I charge you to preserve magic wherever and whenever you can” and also; “Recruit new Chosen and gather them here for me to confer with. I need many, and they must be different from my daughters and from each other…and above all, I must have those I can trust.”

Okay, granted, this specific command probably doesn't apply to Gale. Gale never talks about being gathered as Chosen to help usher in Mystra's return. Remember, she's gathering Chosens so she can restore herself to godhood before Ao clicks the "Save" function on his universe post-Second Sundering. That's what this command is referring to.

Elminster does end up choosing several potential Chosen for Mystra (plus he goes on to steal a whole bunch of magic and gives it to Mystra to restore her back to godhood; this happens at the end of Elminster Enraged). Elminster spends part of Bury Elminster Deep, Elminster Enraged, and The Herald (three back-to-back novels) gathering Chosen or...well, killing corrupt Chosen and stealing their power to give back to Mystra. Mystra begins speaking into the minds of those who worship her in Elminster Enraged (around 1480) and the end of that novel has her appearing as a very grand spirit type of lady, but she's only seen restored to her actual corporeal goddess body at the end of The Herald, which is set in 1487.

So what does this have to do with Gale??

Simple. I have two theories.

Theory 1: Larian just ignores timelines and maybe wanted to create a new grooming narrative for Gale

Listen, Larian has a ton of writers and not every writer can be expected to maintain ALL of the lore Ed Greenwood and other writers wrote for the campaign books and novels. The Forgotten Realms is like 40+ years old. It's been through every iteration of D&D rules. Mystra dies every time the Wizards of the Coast revamps their magic rules, to the point where Ed Greenwood literally had Elminster say, in one of his novels, “I think Mystra’s fall was part of a cycle fated to happen again and again, as the Weave—as all magic of this world—needs renewal.” Elminster fourth-wall calls out a "fated cycle" that is just WOTC remixing magic rules.

Hell, maybe Larian knew that and wanted Gale to be part of the next cycle of Mystra-death-and-rebirth. Raphael certainly suggests something similar if Gale ascends to godhood and plans to usurp Mystra. That's a rant for a different post.

Anyway. Point is, it's a lot of lore, and a lot of it contradicted itself before Larian ever got their hands on it. The writers knew enough to know that Mystra picks Chosens all the time and that she's been known to be lovers with her Chosens. They probably took that and ran with it. Gale was chosen by Mystra and become lovers with her and the timelines don't matter, and maybe there are hints that Mystra groomed him as a kid. Maybe Larian just ignored Ed Greenwood's lore that Mystra didn't speak to any of her followers until like 12 years before the game. That's fine!

But if that theory doesn't seem to vibe, consider theory 2 (which for the purposes of this analysis suggests Gale is a cool 35 for convenient math):

Theory 2: Gale didn't actually hear or meet a corporeal Mystra until he was a consenting adult (NOTE: this does not necessarily mean he wasn't groomed)

Brief timeline, again.

1385, Mystra and Midnight both die and anything resembling a goddess of magic goes silent for nearly 100 years. Early 1400s? Elminster hears Mystra's voice but she's otherwise silent for everyone else 1479, Elminster meets Bear!Mystra, begins finding other Chosen of Mystra and gathering power for Mystra 1480ish, Elminster restores power to Bear!Mystra and she Officially Returns (but like, quietly and we still haven't seen her body, she seems to be just spirit and stardust) 1487, Mystra now has a body because she does this Big Reveal at the end of The Herald by entering a room where five of her Chosen are

If Gale is 35 in 1492, then he was 30 when she "officially" had a body again, and 23 when she begins speaking to her Chosen (or those who worship her more broadly) after a century of silence.

Obviously this theory breaks the current ongoing theory that Mystra revealed herself to Gale when he was 8, or at least a young child. However, does the game really support that theory either? Elminster's letter to an ascended God!Gale only says:

Do you recall the day we first met, m’boy? You could have been no more than eight summers’ old, clutching your mother’s apron…

He doesn't say anything about telling Gale that he is a Chosen at the age of 8 or that Mystra personally has an interest in him. Maybe Elminster was just wandering around and met Gale, or perhaps someone wrote to Elminster to tell him there's an exceptionally talented mage boy that he should meet. Elminster doesn't tell us the circumstances of the meeting, so we'll never know. The one thing we do know is that Elminster has known about Gale since Gale's childhood. There's just nothing in his letter proves that Mystra was actively speaking to Gale when he was 8, or even telling Elminster to choose Gale that young.

Keep in mind, if Gale is 35 in 1492, then he was 8 in 1465, well before Elminster had gotten the charge to maintain the Weave and select new Chosens for Mystra.

Then of course we have Minsc's comment that:

While the girl-folk go on to rule as wychlaran, Weave-touched boys were hidden away. Trained to work their craft in silence and secrecy. It is an old custom, not well-observed. In truth I thought it born of caution, after some catastrophe wrought by wizardly men-folk of old. Now I wonder if it was not done to hide them from Mystra, and the snares she sets for young and prideful boys, hm?

I want to point out that this idea that the Rashemi people hide Weave-touched boys from Mystra's sight is completely new lore. Ed Greenwood explained a bit of how he views vremyonni boys/men being secluded in a series of tweets from 2020. Basically, because a wychlaran (female witch) is also a kind of ruling/religious class in the Rashemi culture, male spellcasters create a power imbalance, especially because they have access to more powerful spells than the female spellcasters. To combat this, male spellcasters are hidden away to avoid political imbalance and end up serving as enchanters/weaponsmiths for the wychlarans. Or they leave and become wizards elsewhere.

The idea that the Rashemi hide the boys away to either a) protect them from Mystra's icky amorous tactics or b) protect their communities from Mystra encouraging grand, destructive ambition in their menfolk, is probably unique to BG3 alone...and that's if we can take what Minsc says at face value.

Can we?

Minsc proves time and again he doesn't think much of wizards. The only thing he likes about Gale is that he can explode. I think he mistrusts male spellcasters in general because of his culture. So his comment could just be Minsc taking a jab at Gale while also not accurately representing his culture (possibly by offering an explanation that he just hasn't thought through all that thoroughly).

The fact that he says "young and prideful boys" is curious, regardless. Does he view Gale as a boy, because Gale is technically younger than Minsc by several decades thanks to Minsc being a statue for a while? Is it derogatory? Is it a remark to say that Gale's ambition is a bit juvenile, as wizard ambitions tend to be? Who knows. Minsc's dialogue isn't always as surface-level as it appears.

So...was Gale groomed?

I guess that depends on your definition of grooming. Adult-to-adult grooming is absolutely a thing. It's a cycle of manipulation, isolation, and gaslighting that leaves one person, the victim, in a twisted, unequal relationship with their abuser. So, yeah, Gale absolutely was groomed by his goddess. Point blank. Period. She rewarded his magical talent with sexual/emotional intimacy. He responded with love, intimacy, adoration, etc., that she was incapable of reciprocating as his equal, because of her power of authority over him (over all wizards) yet she used it to her advantage, and then tossed him aside when it became inconvenient for her. Absolutely she groomed him, and she's an abuser.

But if we're merging Forgotten Realms lore and timelines with BG3 timelines, then our understanding of Gale's perspective of all this shifts a little. Instead of a child chasing after a goddess who is stringing him along, it becomes Gale, the child prodigy, desperately trying to understand magic in a world where the goddess of magic is silent, possibly dead, and the Weave is trying to repair itself after a devastating Spellplague a few decades earlier. It becomes Gale in his teens, not understanding why the others think he's so odd for burying himself in his studies to impress a goddess who might not even care, if she's even alive. It becomes a young adult Gale overwhelmed with awe at the first rumors that Mystra might finally, finally be back, and hearing her voice for the very first time. It becomes Gale, in his late twenties, finally staring into the face of his goddess, someone he's had blind faith in before he even knew for certain she was capable of hearing his prayers. It becomes mid-thirties Gale, who has grown up with a patchwork Weave and a missing goddess, plotting to restore even more power to her by finding an elusive bit of errant Weave and making the biggest mistake of his life. It becomes a story of Gale who probably looked forward to the return of Mystra with so much awe and longing, only to be used and cast aside by her within a dozen years of her return to godhood.

No wonder he felt that godhood was not only well within his grasp, but that he could be a more deserving kind of god.

It's not a perfect theory, and a lot of Gale's dialogue suggests he was a young man, probably early 20s, when he began an intimate relationship with Mystra. He also implies that she spoke to him for some time before they ever became intimate. He describes her first as the Mother of Magic, and then his teacher, and then his muse, and then his lover. So what are we to believe?

Well...that's the frustrating beauty of D&D and Forgotten Realms and Baldur's Gate I guess. The lore is wibbly wobby and malleable. You do what you want with it.

#long post #bg3 #bg3 lore #baldur's gate 3 #gale #gale dekarios #fandom discourse #bg3 discourse #in this essay i will #who let me do this to myself tbh

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mynqzo · 1 year

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my insane batshit gritty semi-realistic sapphic reimagining of barbie and the three musketeers

okay so many people were confused on if that last drawing of mine was just an oc named barbie or whatever but im here to tell you no! its my insane reimagining of the corinne in the movie barbie and the three musketeers, but sapphic and insane. so today I’m going to dump on you my insane reimagining of barbie and the three musketeers in a semi realistic gritty setting where they’re all sapphic and when they become musketeers they instead work to overthrow the monarchy. this is not a joke I've been thinking about this for months. like i will take alexandre dumas legacy and make it so gay and barbie.

okay so first things I thought of were weapons and such and what they could be replaced with in this setting cause most of the characters have things like ribbons and fans as weapons (and while that's so slay and I love that/never want that to change in the movie, I wanna make it semi-realistic in this gritty reimagining). so corinne’s weapon in the movie is a rapier so we’re keeping that. viveca has those two long ribbons (I’m sure they have a name but I forgot them sobs) and I think in my head she would have a two whips instead, whip dual wielder ohooo. renée has a slingshot (honestly so lame of the movie to give her that) and in my head she has a musket or pistol. aramina has two fans and I think replacing those with daggers would be really swag. and just to be clear all the characters in this version are aged up to be in their late twenties to early thirties.

for corinne, the story will follow the traditional ‘the three musketeers’ storyline but instead corinne is actively held back by her mother from going to paris and becoming a musketeer because her mother believes she’ll fall into the same fate as her father did and die. so she instead sneaks out because she feels like if she became a successful musketeer she could establish a comfortable life for her mother. in my head she's kind of like a cocky playboy kinda character where she's a little full of herself but has a lot of drive to find out what happened to her father and how he came to pass but also to succeed so she can take care of her mother better. like she's essentially the person who would ask you to fence shirtless because she wants to prove that she doesn't need armour.

for aramina I feel like her concept of a hopeless romantic can be made more complex if added with religious calling like for aramis in the original three musketeers. like she has a deeply religious upbringing but she cant stop falling in love with people and getting into trouble about it and it especially shows when she meets corinne and the others and; you guessed it, falls in love with them too. a nice mix of guilt and romance. she could have been a faithful follower of the church and been a nun but fell in love with one of the nuns and was caught and therefore shunned and punished, but she kept doing it again and again and her behavior became too obnoxious for the church to allow so they kicked her out, and she’s still plagued by this guilt while also wanting to follow her heart. she essentially ended up as a maid because her church rejected her and her family refused to take her back in on account of her sinning (rip) so she's essentially trying to find purpose in life while also overcoming this insane guilt she's carrying with her for her own desires.

renée’s story in my head follows that of a noble who then became a street musician and eventual musketeer. in the original musketeer story, athos was married to milady de winter [who was the villain] and attempted to kill her after discovering she was a criminal and then he became a drunkard about it because it made him so sad. for renée, she could have been married to a wealthy man that her family arranged her to marry but he was like, a bad guy and wasn’t really nice to her etc and also was a criminal on the run, so she tried to kill him because she was sick of his shit but her kill attempt ended up with her being fought off by him and excommunicated by her and his family (because they dont know he’s a criminal) so she ended up as a street musician and that lead to her being a maid in the palace and you know the drill.

viveca, the same as was in the movie and book as porthos, loves fashion and clothing and is always dressed super dapper and i feel like this could easily make her be a seamstress in the palace who directly works with the royal family when it comes to making them garments (alongside being a maid). she would know the internal workings of the royal family and be the person who could spy on the politics of everything the easiest out of everyone. i feel like she can put up a facade very well with the royal family where she can act like she’s totally into what theyr doing and not totally planning to go against them at any point like at all.

essentially they work for the palace as maids, one way or another, and do all the shenanigans of protecting the prince from getting assassinated by snooping around and whatnot only for them to turn around and be the people who go out of their way to assassinate the prince because they quickly realize that he’s kind of a shit head. they essentially side with the group of people planning the assassination which leads them into meeting a group of rebels and people who protest the royal family. there’s this journey to realize that the true villain of the story is renée ex husband she tried to super kill who became an advisor to the prince and king after the assassination attempt (and the old advisor was kicked to the curb). so the ex-husband is now doing evil whispery advisor nonsense where he’s trying to convince the prince that the musketeers all are actually planning his assassination (even if its true like how dare you sir ex-husband) and that he should execute them publicly and then provided a bunch of false evidence to ‘prove’ (like its True they do wanna take down the prince but like yknow). and its like a whole thing. during this all they all fall in love and form a sapphic polycule and its complicated and nasty and oof.

thanks for coming to my ted talk.

#what do i tag this #barbie and the three musketeers #is it obvious to say barbie has affected my upbringing

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morganbritton132 · 1 year

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Eddie starts a live stream in his studio like, “I got banished to the basement for stepping on a recently mopped floor.“

He starts out answering questions he sees in the chat but eventually grows tired of that and starts messing around with his guitar. An hour into it, long after Eddie’s forgotten about the live stream, Steve comes down. Eddie honestly thinks he’s going to start reorganizing his record collection or something so he’s a bit surprise when Steve pulls the guitar out of his hand and replaces it with himself.

Eddie is never one to complain about having a lap full of Steve Harrington, especially when he kisses his neck like that, “Sorry I called you a freak.”

Eddie, for some fucking reason: Wanna talk about that other thing you said?

Steve: Not really

Eddie, with a sigh: Unfortunately, I do…. You haven’t spoken to your mother in twenty years

Steve, pulling back: Not true! We spoke at my dad’s funeral

Eddie: So, twenty-three years then? You’re getting yourself all worked up about something that’s probably not going to happen and then you’re going to be upset all weekend.

Steve: It’s different this time

Eddie: How? Did you call her?

Steve: I wrote her a letter

Eddie:

Steve: Shut up, she doesn’t answer the phone. And- she’ll like it. Will helped me with it

Eddie: So, Will knew you were setting yourself up for failure?

Eddie, realizing that was a little harsh: Look, I’m just saying. Let’s be realistic, babe

Steve, climbing out of Eddie’s lap to get up but Eddie grabs his hand before he can run off: You don’t get it, Eddie. You have Wayne

Eddie: So do you! You have Hopper and Joyce, and Claudia. Those are the people that have been there and that love you. We lived in the same town as your mom for years and she couldn’t even go to your appointments

Steve: She let me stay-

Eddie: On their insurance? You have given that woman a lot of mileage out of the bare minimum, Steve. She didn’t work extra shifts to help pay for your medication, Wayne did. She didn’t get you an appointment with that fancy doctor in Indianapolis, Hopper did. They were more of a parent to you than your mother ever-

Steve: But they’re not my mom, Eddie! I want my mom, okay? She wasn’t always like that, she-

Eddie: She’s been like that for thirty fucking years, Steve

Steve: I thought I was going to die. I was pretty damn sure that my brain was full of holes and I was going to die a month ago. I kept thinking that I’m going to die and she going to go to a funeral for a complete stranger, and I-

Eddie, realizing that he never ended his live stream and knocking his phone over so the screen goes black: Stop talking

Steve: What?

Eddie: I think we both need to cool off. You should - you should get ready for bed. I’ll be up there in a second.

It takes a second before you hear Steve say whatever and leave the room. It’s followed by Eddie whispering ‘fuck’ to himself before the live stream ends.

#did someone call for angst?#eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

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favvn · 3 months

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While I am still (always!) thinking about it, it is perhaps silly that the background details in Star Trek: TOS episode 4 The Naked Time made lightbulbs for Spirk go off in my brain, but my argument is very simple: if the wall writing was meant to be just silly, random phrases, then why put a loaded phrase like "sinner repent" on the doors of the turbolift? Why show it? Is it necessary to the episode, or could the entire turbolift scene have been cut without altering anything? Why have incidental music play when it is shown? Why zoom in on Kirk's sweaty face after he sees it? Why not show anything else on the doors, like a silly doodle of Kirk with a mustache? Would it ruin the scene preceeding it with Spock admitting to his love for his mother, his feelings of shame for his friendship with Kirk, and Kirk's willful rejection of love entirely/using the ship as the object for his love because he cannot love a member of his crew? If Kirk was truly in love with his yeoman, then where is the sin in it? Is she married? Is such a relationship explicitly against Starfleet regulations to the point that it errs on a moral failing? Would replacing the words with something else ruin the episode as a whole? How so? Spock's breakdown was supposed to be played as a joke with a mustache drawn on Spock as he cries, but Nimoy fought for it to be played in earnest and did it in one take. Did that alter the rest of the episode as a consequence? Or, supposing the the rest of the episode went as originally written, does this mean the words Kirk was always going to see were, in fact, "sinner repent" making it necessary to show for the sake of the story being told, be it that Kirk is Bi or Trans or feels love beyond friendship for Spock or some combination of the above?

(The true reality is probably that someone in the crew just painted whatever popped into their head, blissfully unaware that nearly 60 years later, some rando on the internet would go insane trying to rationalize a random action as a deliberate and thought-out choice. Or it was all a deliberate choice when one considers how expensive TOS was and how clips and music would later be reused to save money (the music that plays with the virus infections was reused in later episodes, for example). If any of it was unnecessary, wouldn't it have been cut to save film, budget, and time? If I could find a true transcript of the original script complete with direction and set notes... that would clear my madness up. "Sinner repent" is my white whale, the hill I will die on. If only I knew what I was getting myself into on February 5th at approximately 9:30 pm 😔)

#trekposting #star trek tos #spirk #the naked time #gonna make this my pinned post i think #let any wanderers understand exactly what they are getting into when they hit 'follow'#it's just whatever song i obsessively listen to for a week & the wall writing from the naked time up in my brain yeehaw!!!#it is 2024 and i am going full trekkie and having a blast with it!#but plot twist consideration: it was a message to roddenberry for all of his various affairs with actresses

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shanastoryteller · 9 months

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hallo! i hope your day is going well!! what’s one of your favorite details that you’ve written about siat recently? or if not that, in another fic or snippet

in ta'burni, after tony's parents die when he's 17 at MIT, we get this from rhodey's pov (bold for emphasis)

“They’ll eat you alive,” Tony says, reminding him a lot of his mother just then. Rhodey watches Tony get in a limo surrounded by cameras, his black jeans his own and mostly that color because of one too many motor oil stains and the black button down too long and too big in the shoulders because it’s Rhodey’s, a streak of black against the blinding white of a thousand camera flashes.

later in the fic pepper meets tony when he's 30 and she's 25 and showing him around a gallery auction, she compares him to barton newmans's now ii

this is what she says about it:

“Barnett Newman completed this three years before his death and it’s a wonderful piece,” she says, head held high. “He said he wanted to paint as if inventing painting from scratch, as if no one had ever done it before.”

“It’s just a line,” he repeats, still amused. “That’s what he thought needed to be reinvented?”

She doubts she’ll ever be standing in front of Tony Stark again so she has to get this right, has to say this in a way that hopefully won’t offend him, because the other option is to say something she doesn’t mean and that’s a waste for both of them. “It’s a perfect line. Perfectly straight, perfectly black, and surrounded by perfect white. Not in color, it’s not the blackest black or the whitest white, but the tone matches perfectly. Their perfection is only obvious in their togetherness.” She could stop here, she could not embarrass herself in front of the most powerful businessman in the world, but she has achieved nothing in her life by being a coward. “The first time you drew a line, it wasn’t perfect. It probably wasn’t even straight. But you drew it again, and again, until it was, and now the lines you draw are turned into designs and schematics that change the world, from weapons you send overseas to the processor in my computer. You design as if you are inventing the world from scratch, which is why you’re doing things that others claim can’t be done, which is why you’re doing it better the rest of them.”

He's not smiling anymore, but he doesn’t look angry, or bored, or anything that will get her fired.

She swallows and continues, “Barnett Newman said of his paintings that he hoped that they had the impact of giving someone the feeling of their own totality, their own separateness, their own individuality, as that’s what they did for him. This line is you and everything that you will do. You make it look easy, Mr. Stark, but that doesn’t mean it is.”

in iron man 2, the print that he takes down and replaces with a color pop portrait of iron man is now ii

i figured the chance of anyone noticing was pretty much 0, especially when part of it is in the movie and not the fic

but for me it was tony's life

before. becoming. became

#asks #anon #thank you for asking this #ta'burni

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kitkatopinions · 2 months

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Just saw the extended animatic that was originally meant to end V9 and is now gonna get repurposed into the (possible) V10.

Let me just say, I still feel the same about the things I saw in the first animatic. I can now firmly say that Qrow has been replaced with a doppleganger same as Blake (I wonder if it's like a partial possession thing in this case where sometimes it's Qrow and sometimes it's the faker.) I hate the dumb Winter scenes about how disappointed she is that poor people aren't nice enough to her billionaire blue blooded mother in her silly little sunhat. I have no idea what the hell Raven is doing there. The 'Remember Her Message' thing is stupid because of how poorly done Ruby's message to the world actually was and what little impact Team RWBYJNOR has actually had on the world at large. And I still want to see Whitley without Willow for three point five seconds. And I'm still wondering why the presence of an army in Atlas was a sign of pure evil and was immediately seen as a horrifying threat but seeing an army in Vacuo is meant to be a sign of peace and hope.

But also, now I have more to say.

Like first of all, I'm even more confused on how Remnant managed to pull off any sort of army now that we know what remained in Vale after the Fall of Beacon got decimated. Where are they getting their army? From Mistral, where we know Leo had all the Hunters killed? Are we meant to assume that the people that showed up from Mistral are the cops Blake called on the White Fang? Or, maybe from Argus, even though we're meant to hate Cordovin and the Atlas military that was there? Second of all, this makes me even more annoyed at Winter for being like 'if my poor martyr sister could see how badly we're doing, she'd be disappointed,' Winter get realistic goals challenge 2024. Third of all, Team SSSN and CFVY made appearances and if I ever have to see Coco "based on a nazi" Adel ever again, it'll be too soon, but I still insist that it should've been just Sun, Neptune, and Velvet because none of their other teammates got enough focus in the actual show to be real characters. They could've been casually name dropped off-handedly and it would've been fine. Speaking of teams making reappearances, Neon is there, which means she didn't die in the Fall of Atlas and likely her teammates didn't either, but they had better have a full explanation in V10 for how soldiers on the field got back to the city and threw the portals, and it's weird that we saw Neon but not Flynt. Also can I just point out that "the people who were colonized by Atlas are being aggressive to innocent Atlas orphans and need to be told off" is a writing choice the writers didn't have to do, and considering all the whole history with RWBY and bigotry, I don't know why they did that. Neon and Nora had a moment though, and I was like... Ship material? Also, Tyrian and Mercury are working with the Crown, but... To be honest, if they don't scrap that in V10 (if V10 ever comes,) I'm gonna question their decision making even more, because they just did a new location with a new villain and it proved that this late in the game it's hard to set up or properly execute new threats, and if V10 ever comes out, it's a high probability that we're not ever getting a V11. So if you ask me, if they don't cut out the Crown, they're either gonna badly execute these new bads because they expect their fans to do homework to understand the main show, or they're gonna spend way too much focus on establishing them and the Mains will get sidelined again. Merc looks like a mess, though, and this would make me think a redemption arc is a-coming except that they're pressed for time like I said, so I'm not counting on it. The fact that I have to see Peter Port of all characters is also making me want to say a lot of bad words. Like I cannot emphasize enough how much I hated seeing him and his stupid face and how much I wish he'd never existed. What is this choice to not have the serious potential mentor character who had been part of Oz's inner circle come in and instead having the comic relief teacher who blathered about testosterone and flirted with an underage student be the one to break what should be devastating news that should by all rights get a lot of focus? And where the heck is Tai in all of this? Rip to Oobleck, but out of everyone from the Vale seasons, I would not have picked either of these men to bring back, I'd have brought in Tai and Glynda. It's just a bad choice. And still no sign of Maria and Pietro, so like... What the heck?

All in all, I thought before that I couldn't have less hope for the future of RWBY, but whoa buddy this extended animatic proved me wrong.

#rwde

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morganalatina21 · 1 year

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Manipulating Death: Chapter Twelve

Series Summary: When Harry discovers he has a twin sister that was hiding for years, he wants to know all about her, specially about her ability to bring people back to life.

a/n: yo yo! (Timmy's voice). I know, I know, it's been a rough couple of months since I last posted something but i was just starting college (i passed in one of the top best in my country so I'm really glad), and now that everything's outta the way I can go back to writing so better get used to receive some news from me baby!

Aaand, Ik this one's a little shorter than usual but i just wanted to announce that im back so... yeah

(Also, english isn’t my first language so I’m sorry in advance lol)

Last Chapter | Masterlist

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When summer came and Harry had to go back to Hogwarts and then back to his uncle’s house, Sirius was ready to throw hands.

The remaining marauders grew a very solid anger towards their old headmaster after everything Y/n and Regulus told them about, and were ready to disobey him one more time, however after some long days of talking, they decided to play the game.

If Dumbledore was allowed to lie to them and risk their lives as if they were a bunch of pawns, so could the Order.

So Harry, Hermione and Ron went to Hogwarts to finish their fifth school year, the Potter would write letters to his sister everyday and once every two days they’d talk through the fireplace.

He’d tell her how his day was, how he missed the twins fooling around, how Umbridge was such a pink bitch he could throw up; and Y/n would give small hints about how their search for the Horcruxes was going, and the best way to hex his professor without her knowing.

He avoided referring to her as a sister, and just went with “a very dear friend”, and also never mentioned Dumbledore, just in case he decided to somehow capture Edwiges and read the messages.

But they were so happy being able to talk to each other basically everyday after being almost sixteen years apart.

The boy was happy he, for once, could write home, to someone who was actually interested, some family.

Of course, before, he had Sirius, but the man saw him as a replacement for James, and Harry viewed him the same way; this was different, he didn’t saw Y/n as his mother, neither did her.

But it was pretty clear he was jealous whenever someone else interacted with her.

Like this time when Hermione told him she sent a letter to Y/n to ask about some potions and how she was healing, Harry turned red immediately and wondered why she was so worried if she wasn’t her sister.

Or whenever they were talking through the fireplace and Regulus would be right beside her in the room.

“It’s like” He mumbled, “You guys have your own families and I don’t interfere, let me have mine!”

Speaking about her healing, it took longer than expected, and she hid that from Harry, not wanting the boy to worry over nothing, but Regulus only allowed her to step out of the bedroom when her brother was going back to Petunia’s house.

“Honestly, I do think I will die here.” She confessed one day when he came in with her meal. “But of boredom.”

The day Harry had to go back to his uncle's, he decided to see his sister one last time before spending the entire summer without her.

And everyone got a pretty clear view from Harry's jealousy that day.

Remus left the house to receive the golden trio outside, not knowing an exact hour they'd be there, so it was just Regulus and Sirius downstairs and Y/n in her room.

The kids' presence not being exactly announced when they arrived, both Black Brothers thinking she'd be asleep and didn't wanted to bother the poor girl.

Well, they were wrong.

Because her voice came loud and clear, not even a little groggy: "Hey Reggie?"

They perked up at that, the man standing up.

"I'm bored, do you wanna come lay with me so I can play with your hair?"

Their eyes widened, staring at the younger Black in pure shock. He nodded his head at them, as in greeting goodbye and started going upstairs.

Mid-way he started running towards her, knowing she'd probably change her mind if he took too long. "Yes!"

Harry was fuming, as red as Ron's hair.

He busted into his sister’s room and finding her messing with Regulus’ curls. The boy shooed him away harshly and dropped his own head on her lap, staring at the Black with a cold glare that made Y/n laugh.

After a couple minutes, they decided to hang out with everyone else, and Harry would never leave his sister, following her around like a shadow and even making Regulus jealous, and it was so comic for his brother.

She told Harry things they couldn't talk about through letters, like the possessor's training that Reggie was responsible for, or how the Horcruxes hunt was going in full details.

"That reminds me, I got something for you." Y/n announced before sprinting upstairs, to which Regulus was really unhappy about. But she then came back a few moments later, with an old and messy hairbrush on one hand. "It was our father's, it's the only thing I have from him and I want you to have it."

"Are you sure?" He reluctantly asked, holding it as if it could break and disappear if he as much breathed on it. But Y/n shook her head yes with a huge smile.

"Consider it an early birthday gift."

The boy felt his eyes watering, sucking in a hiccup and holding the Potter in a tight hug that almost made him cry his eyes out.

Throughout the rest of the year, Harry would look at the hairbrush almost as if he was begging for his dad's guidance. He felt back on his third year, standing by the lake, with Sirius and his own image passing out on the other side, waiting for his dad to come and save the day.

Except that right now, he knew it was basically his own mind giving him advice. The boy was desesperately trying not to get his hopes high that Y/n could bring them back to life.

She sure was powerful, but after her death she appeared to get weaker and weaker by the day.

He'd get letters from Remus or one of the Black brothers saying she was too sick to write, that they'd keep him uptaded on any important news.

But how could Harry stay fucking calm? Deep down, he felt lied to. He had no reason to suspect his godfather or his sistser's godfather, but Merlin there was something wrong.

And he was right.

Because a week after he arrived at the Dursley's, Regulus Black woke up to an empty bed except for himself.

Calling out her name, no answer.

The basement just as empty as the bed.

Sirius and Remus? Clueless.

Kreacher? Obliviated.

Y/n Potter was, once again, missing.

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