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theunbearableweightofpedropascal · 6 months

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Mother Knows Best

Blaise Zabini x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: (angst, fucked up family dynamic)

A/N: This is the dress I had in mind in case my description doesn't do it justice. All credit to the artist here. and hair inspo (top right). Also I'm not sure why I keep writing that Blaise hates yellow but it feels right, idk.

Summary: With your parents abhorrent views you doubt they could choose a decent partner.

Word Count: 5.6k

The wizarding community was small which meant that Hogwarts was even smaller. Thankfully you had been able to slip under the radar, which in hindsight was easy since your classmate was Harry Potter. Either way, people wrote you off as timid and boring but the truth was far worse.

Growing up everything seemed fine you came from a prestigious family that was more than respected. With that came expectations as you were told but understood, you made sure your magic was comparable to no one. You had practiced so much that there were cramps in your hand and wrist regularly. However, the expectations that your parents meant were far more nefarious than being a prefect.

For your sorting ceremony, you had come from a family of Ravenclaw’s and Slytherin’s so when the hat called out Hufflepuff it seemed a slight pause was taken. There wasn’t explicit disappointment written on your father’s face but you knew what he would have preferred. But in his words at least you weren’t Gryffindor.

Motivation thrummed through your body to make up for less than adequate house. You’d managed to become quite knowledgeable on many subjects, even things as taboo as muggle studies. You’d never dared to take the class but had read a few books out of morbid curiosity. There was never anything explicitly anti-muggle spoken about in your household but deep down you knew better. The kind of family you were born into would never be outspoken about that sort of thing, it’s unbecoming in your mother’s words.

After the death of Cedric Diggory, more talks of he who shall not be named permeated the community. Some believed it was an unexplainable tragedy while others were in complete denial. Not only were you disgusted by what they did to him you also felt sad for Harry, it was crystal clear what happened. Your parents on the other hand seemed unaffected, that should have been the first sign but you were too busy giving condolences to Harry.

Next was the stream of people they contacted in the coming months. At first, none of them rang any alarm bells but more and more suspected Death Eaters would permeate your childhood home. A small riff formed between your parents and you, the seemingly loving people who raised you held such nasty views. Visits to your childhood home soon became limited to mandatory holidays under the guise of you studying for your O.W.L.s.

Soon enough you could see exactly where they stood and it terrified you. There wasn’t anyone you could turn to without fearing it would get back to your parents.

……..

On your scheduled visit home you were indifferent to finding certain members of the Ministry leaving your parent's home. However, as your father stood before you in the foyer expectantly you couldn’t help but wonder why. Usually, it would just be your mother receiving you due to the constant stream of ‘meetings’ your father held. No words were exchanged between you two before he gestured for you to follow him to his office.

The once warm memories that this house provided now gave way to shivers down your spine. It felt like the closer you were to approaching his office the harder your heart thundered in your chest. Uneasiness settles within you because of your father’s seemingly cold nature.

Inside his office, he gestured to the seat across from his chair and your heart sank. Although you didn’t feel at home anymore, you didn’t have the heart to fully distance yourself. For so long all of your work was due to upholding the family name and reputation and if you let that go there was nothing else. Your mother gave nothing away while she stood off to the side.

“As you know darling a war is brewing, and now is the time that our Dark Lord needs his loyal correspondents.” His hands on your shoulders send a cold shiver over you. “And it worries me that my daughter seems to sympathize with mudbloods.” Even though you couldn’t see his face you could only picture the defeat on his face.

“I-” Before you could attempt to defend yourself you were interrupted.

“I thought I had made my expectations for you obvious child.” Your father’s fingers dug into you causing a grimance across your face. “Only for you to embarrass me after I put all of my hopes and dreams into you.” Tears well in your eyes from the pain of both his words and his harsh grip.

“Have I not given you everything?” In spite of how you’ve felt about his purist ways, his words cause you to scramble to reassure him. After all, you didn’t put in as much work as you had to disappoint him.

“You have and I-” The words become stuck in your throat because of how much you are trying to say at once. “I’m so sorry.” Shame has your head hanging low while your tears wet your pants. “I saw Cedric as a friend and I let my judgment get clouded.” Sobs wrack your body and your father lets his death grip go to comfort you.

“It’s okay darling sometimes we become a little misguided. As long as we find our way back that’s all that matters.” The same hands that caused your breakdown are now nursing you back with slow circles. Your breathing begins to even out and your father takes that as his cue to continue with what this meeting is really about.

“Now that we’ve taken care of that, I wanted to talk about what we are gathered here for.” His hands clap together in what you assume is excitement, and a glance at your now-smiling mother confirms it. “Tonight we are celebrating your impending nuptials.”

Never has your head swiveled so quickly, you weren't privy to any marriage conversations. As far as you knew you weren’t promised to anyone but you knew better than to question anything in this moment. From the corner of your eye, you see your mother leave the room and the thundering in your heart amps up once again.

“And what better family to be joined with than the Zabini’s?” Your mother is the one to drop the name of your future husband as she glides into the office again. Behind her, you see the infamous Zabini’s. Everyone is familiar with the Zabini’s, more specifically the rumored black widow Domenica Zabini. Her track record of 7 dead husbands speaks for itself. There was nothing short of perfection about their appearance, not that you expected less.

The joy on your mother’s face feels like you’re in an alternate universe, one that involves a happy family. Somehow you didn’t see the gilded cage that had slowly been closing until it was too late. If there was food in your stomach it would have been thrown up by now.

“Don’t play coy darling, they’ve come all this way to meet you.” As if your breakdown didn’t just happen your mother ushers you out of the seat before urging you closer. “This will be good for you, for us.” The low tone of her voice leaves no room for opposition.

Domencia’s keen eyes take you in and you almost can’t believe this woman killed her husbands. There’s nothing overtly cunning or evil-looking about her presence as one would think. Her son, on the other hand, had a menacing demeanor for someone who you’d never heard utter a word. Since Hogwarts was small his best friends Theo and Draco more than made up for his silence.

His brown eyes are calculated while he takes you in and your heart betrays you by skipping a beat.

“You’re even more breathtaking in person.” Were the first words you ever heard him speak and you hated to admit how your whole body fluttered. The low register of his voice made it feel like only the two of you were in the room despite your parents lurking off into the corner.

“So the mythical Blaise does speak?” You keep your voice low like his.

“Considering you are my future wife I’d say it’s imperative.” And just like that the reality of your future comes crashing back to you.

Blaise gently grabs your hand and brings it to his lips before running his thumb across your knuckles. His eyes never leave yours and you can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to disarm you. Either way, you remember to keep your guard up around him.

“Is there anywhere for us to talk, privately?” Although you doubt your parents can hear you he still goes the extra mile to bring his lips to the shell of your ear.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Your eyes dart around the room in an attempt to get out of the situation you’ve landed in.

“Afraid you’ll actually come to like me, sweetheart?” Blaise, as observant of ever, notices your hesitation to him despite his very convincing charm.

“No.” Even you weren’t convinced by your answer however, you refused to give him the satisfaction.

An amused smirk plays on his face and he finds himself more than pleased with this arrangement. The air between you was thick with undeniable tension.

“You know,” Your mother places her hands on your shoulders gently but that doesn’t stop the small wince on your face, “You should show Blaise around the grounds since he’ll be around a lot.”

“That would be lovely.” His award-winning smile splits his face in agreeance with your mother.

Seeing no way out of this you tell him, “Stay close to me.”

Many would say that your familial land is almost as grand as Hogwarts, but that only applies if you enjoy greenery. The house is incomparable to the vast amounts of land you can explore and observe. Your mother favored her garden and maze, so much so that the familial home was inconsequential to the lands she demanded.

“I take it you weren’t as up-to-date as your parents led me to believe?” Now that you two were truly alone Blaise saw no need to hold back.

“I wasn’t but I can’t say I’m completely upset with their choice.” The truth is they went far beyond your expectations.

“So I still have a chance?” He pulls back before the two of you are more than a couple feet from the house. “I must plead my case.” His general nature gives you pause, you’ve never met someone so magnetic.

“And what exactly is your case?” Your curiosity gets the better of you.

“We could make this a long engagement, I don’t mind a wait. Frankly, I enjoy your presence and I wouldn’t mind growing from that.” His hands reach for yours, and somehow it doesn’t seem desperate.

“You’re making this feel so easy.” As much as you wanted to reject any man sent your way through your parents, Blaise was different. Not to mention you weren’t in a position to bargain.

“I don’t want to force you, but I will promise absolute devotion.” This time when he kisses your knuckles there’s no prying eyes, making the moment much more remarkable.

Truth be told above all else you wanted someone exactly like Blaise, but your parent's involvement sort of ruined the moment. Emotionally you were still reeling from your father’s outburst, and you know it won’t be the last. If you could keep him off your back with this there would be less pressure surrounding any future mistake.

But that does peg the question of how you’ll fare should this relationship get serious. Would you be the first of many wives for Blaise? The thought sent a chill down your spine and there’s no way you could outright ask. For the time being you decide being a team player is most important and string Blaise along until he tires of you.

“I would love nothing more.” Maybe you laid it on a little thick but Blaise doesn’t seem to notice or care.

………….

With news of you and Blaise’s engagement spreading amongst the parents, you knew it wouldn’t take long for the gossip mill at Hogwarts to circulate. By the time you return from your visit whispers follow you through the corridor.

“So you wanna tell me why everyone is talking about your engagement to Blaise?” Madeline, your closest friend, saddles up next to you as you barrel down the hall.

You slow down your fast pace to pull her into an empty classroom. “I knew my Father held some anti-muggle ideals but now he’s talking about doing the Dark Lord’s bidding. I went home this weekend to find out they had me betrothed to Blaise Zabini.” Your hands find their way to your face in an effort to rub the emotional distress out. “Not to mention he completely freaked out on me for expressing my sympathies for Harry. Mads I’ve never seen him like that, it scared me.”

“Godric,” She made her way to stand beside you before rubbing your back in gentle circles. Madeline was first assigned as one of your dormmates, she took it upon herself to adopt you. She'd seen first-hand the immense pressure your parents put on you, and in turn the pressure you placed on yourself. “You know you’re always welcome around mine?”

Although you did know that it would only prolong the inevitable with your parents. Nevertheless, you thank her and rest your head on her shoulder.

“The worst part is the fact that I don't completely hate Blaise, I mean he would be perfect if my parents hadn’t been the ones to arrange it. Now it feels tainted you know?” Your eyes are glued to the floor while you pour out everything you’d had to hold in this past weekend.

“Of course, not to mention his mother has an interesting romantic history.” You are glad that you’re not the only one who noticed.

“But he’s so gorgeous.” You tilt your head away from your best friend with a whimsical sigh.

“You’re preaching to the choir.” Her agreeance has you craning your neck to blink in surprise at her.

“Not too much, he’s still my fiance.” Playfully you narrow your eyes at Mads before bursting into laughter with her joining you.

With your spirits back up the both of you head back into the hall and make your way to the grand hall. Studying would help in taking your mind off of everything else, somehow it was relaxing. The table was decorated with textbooks as you and Madeline delved into your academics.

“You look even more radiant when you’re focused.” That low drawl had your head quickly swiveling to meet Blaise’s eyes in surprise.

“There’s a lot I need to stay up to date on.” Your answer must have been enough for him to take a seat next to you. But you don’t let his presence deter you from your agenda. Madeline squirms in her seat across from you to get your attention only to give you a knowing look.

“I’m sure there is,” He lets his eyes fall over your form, and warmth spreads throughout your body at his brazenness. He clears his throat before continuing, “ My mother’s hosting a party next weekend and I was wondering if you’d do me the honor of being my date?”

From the corner of your eye, you could feel Madeline’s widened eyes taking in this conversation. You’re not sure why you expected Blaise to ignore you once you returned to Hogwarts, but strangely you’re pleased he didn’t. Finally, you set your quill down to properly address him.

“I would love that,” You school your features to not look as giddy as you feel. “Any specific dress code requirements?”

“If you don’t mind I got your measurements from your mother and had a dress commissioned.” He had the gall to look sheepish.

“And what if I find the dress ugly? What if I had said no?” The questions fly out one after the other.

“Your mother promised me you had no shortage of beautiful gowns, and if you had said no I would have found another way to gift it to you.” His eyes peer down at you while you bashfully glance towards Madeline. Once he leaves you know you’ll never hear the end of this.

“Well thank you,” For once you are truly rendered speechless and there is no other feeling more embarrassing.

Blaise, as observant as ever, senses the end of the conversation and readies himself to leave. Before he completely takes off he places a folded piece of paper in your palm and closes it. When his back faces you you let your eyes wander after him with a stupid smile splitting your face. You realize too late that once he reaches his table his friends have already caught you grinning like an idiot. They proceed to clap him on the back and you quickly face Mads only to be met with a teasing grin.

You resign yourself to laying your head on the table until the smile on your face calms down. When you unfold the piece of paper you find a rough draft of a fluffy green gown. His penmanship impressed you but his eye for detail on the various layers of dresses solidified your opinion.

…………

The box holding the dress Blaise commissioned is sitting on the ottoman by the foot of your bed. It was a deep emerald green with a light green bow wrapping around it. Your mother delivered it with a bright smile as soon as it arrived in the morning. She was adamant about opening it but you wanted to wait, even if the anticipation was killing you too.

Your parents were attending as well but they had been rather agreeable lately. Just as you assumed once you showed interest in being with Blaise they seemingly backed off. The last thing you want is a repeat of what happened.

With the sun setting you begin taking down your hair, and the curls bounce as you rub oil on them. You deliberately save the front braids for last while you finish individually placing each curl. The front of your hair is parted to the right side, and you begin gathering half into a small ponytail. You decide to leave a small piece of hair out from the right side that is curled away from your face.

A smile graces your face at the finished product and you turn to the box that’s been calling to you all day. The note attached to the bow was the first thing you read.

I hope the dress is up to your standards -B.Z.

You place the note on your bed and untie the bow before lifting the top. A lavish hunter-green bustier greets you, before fully pulling it out you take note of the silver and black jewels lining the entire top. You carefully grab the strapless top to pull it out of the box and a gasp involuntarily leaves your mouth at the mass of the dress.

Flowers made of sheer fabric litter the waist and sage green fabric lines the sides of the dress. Layers of tulle overlap with leafy designs that feature silver accents. You had never seen a dress as beautiful as the one in front of you, Blaise clearly had an eye for fashion. The drawing he gave didn’t do the dress enough justice.

Progressively you place the dress on the floor and step into it. Perfect is the only word to describe it as you gaze at yourself in the mirror. Even in low light, the jewels sparkle enticingly and you note that he used his house color on you. You do a spin before heading to your jewelry box, only to find that you missed a matching necklace and earring set at the bottom. The dangly earrings remind you of snowflakes and the necklace matches the gems atop your dress.

“Please tell me you’re rea-” Your mother bustles into your room but pauses mid-sentence at you. “My, you look stunning.” She slowly circles you before noting the jewelry in your hand and she gestures for you to face the mirror. She delicately takes out your stud earrings and replaces them with the one Blaise gifted you. When she reaches into the box for the necklace a gasp, much like your earlier one, leaves her red-tinted lips.

“When he asked me about your measurements I never expected this.” She circles her arms over your head to gingerly lay the necklace over your sternum. Her polished nails circle your shoulders for a gentle squeeze, “Let's finish up before your father storms in here.”

She sits you down on your vanity chair before pulling out a brown lipstick and gloss. You tilt your head back to allow her an easier time and her sweet perfume fills your nostrils. Once she finishes she steps back to admire her handiwork with a smile. She opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by your father’s call.

“We are now thirty minutes late,” The both of you share a silent laugh before heading downstairs to put on shoes and meet your father.

………..

Blaise is bored out of his mind waiting for you, he was surrounded by friends but it was clear he was anxiously awaiting your arrival. Although he thought you would like the dress he couldn’t be sure, maybe it was a bad idea to not consult you.

“Oh cheer up Zabini your girlfriend’ll be here soon.” Theodore’s quip was met with laughter from Draco.

“Not girlfriend, fiancee.” Malfoy corrects Theo before Blaise can open his mouth to say the same thing. While they laugh Blaise rolls his eyes before scanning the hall once more. Theodore could sense how his friend felt despite him trying to downplay it.

“Is there an actual ring or is this a vocal agreement?” Draco decided to push his limits

“There’s plenty of rings but we aren’t there yet kind of like you and Astoria.” Draco rolls his eyes at the reminder of his love life. “And who knows when a woman will become agreeable to your presence Nott.”

Both boys exchanged looks of amusement at Blaise’s snappy tone.

Time seems to stand still when he spots you at the entrance of his mother’s grand hall. His heart thunders as he realizes you are wearing the dress he helped create. The low light of the room captures the shimmering jewels that line the dress and he can’t recall anyone as lovely as you. For once he is rooted in place unable to fulfill the greeting he had prepared.

“I think I understand now mate.” Theodore is stumped in place as well when he follows Blaise’s line of sight.

Everyone in the hall spares a glance at you, how could they not? The dress gives the illusion that you are gliding across the floor. His mother intercepts your family and focuses on you. It’s obvious she’s fawning over how alluring you are. Your eyes scan the crowd scantily and Blaise takes that as his cue.

“I’ll catch up with you two later.” He doesn’t spare his friends a glance as he makes his way through the crowd to you.

When your eyes lock with his he internally melts, the closer he gets the more you steal his breath away. A symphony with booming music plays in his head to match his beating heart.

You straighten your posture when Blaise stands before you in a three-piece emerald green tailman suit. His hand collects yours before bowing to kiss your knuckles, and after he comes up you curtsey before him. Your dress pools around you in the most elegant way before you slowly come up again. It was nearly impossible to rip his eyes away from you but he had to greet your parents before whisking you off.

“Would you mind excusing us?” Blaise’s polite manner brings joy to your mother’s face and approval to your father's.

“Of course not,” Your mother and Domencia are quick to shoo you and him away.

His hand glides around to the small of your back while he guides you to the refreshment table. The array of food makes it hard for you to pick anything and he senses your indecision. He hands you a plate to pick as much as you want.

“Thank you, for the dress it really is amazing. Your drawing was beautiful but I never expected anything like this.” The sparkle in your eyes is all he wanted to see.

“Anything for you.” His declaration left you speechless once again so you focus on picking your food.

He then leads you to your table to eat but you hesitate before moving to sit. Blaise angles your body and dress to sit comfortably in his lap. Your stomach flutters for the umpteenth time and you try to look anywhere besides his face.

“This was your plan all along huh? Create this elaborate dress so I’m woefully dependent on you.” You begin trying the various foods on your plate while Blaise watches you.

“If I’m being honest I wish I had come up with that, but I did want to see you in a beautiful gown. Maybe steal a dance or two.” His complete focus was on you enjoying your treacle tart.

“Nobody else is dancing though,” You spare a glance around to find everyone mingling while the live band plays quietly.

“So?” His head was being cradled by his large hand as he searched your eyes.

“You must be the fiancee, we’ve heard so much about you.” Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott step into view on the other side of the table.

“I kind of miss Zabini when he was quiet and mysterious.” Theodore jokingly pouts his lips at Blaise before taking his seat.

“Fuck off,” Blaise tries to look annoyed but everyone catches the slight crack in his face.

“The only Blaise I’ve encountered is the lovesick puppy variant.” The boys roar with laughter at your one-liner.

“As much as I love this conversation, I should probably do a couple of laps around the room,” He places his hands on your hips before addressing you, “You think you’ll be okay with these vultures for a couple of minutes?”

“I think I’ll be alright,” The mischievous grin on your face convinced him and you stood up so he could fulfill his hosting duties.

“That's the spirit,” Malfoy clapped his hands at your willingness to entertain them. “Shall we get you a drink to catch up with us?”

“As long as it’s fire whiskey.” Your agreeance has them flagging down the nearest server for a round of glasses.

Surprisingly talking with Draco and Theo is easy, mostly because they’ve been shit-talking Blaise. You keep your intake of whiskey to two glasses to keep your wits about you. This wasn’t that kind of party.

They tell the story of how Blaise was knocked off his broom by an ex-girlfriend's spell. A re-enactment of how he flailed for 30 feet ensued but luckily the table was toward the back. You’d been breathing in short bursts for the past few minutes and you hope for a reprieve.

“Alright if you all don’t mind I’ll be stealing her for a dance,” Blaise’s hand stretches out to you before he calls, “M’lady.”

One last giggle escapes from your lips when you place your hand in his and slowly rise from your chair. On the way to the middle of the floor, you realize the band is playing a much louder tune than before. Blaise’s steps slow and his hand guides you around to the front of him while your dress flows flawlessly.

Each of you repeats the bow and curtsey from earlier but this time you keep eye contact. Once both of you are upright you wait for the musical cue to begin your first step. When the violinist begins their solo you step forward attaching one hand to his right shoulder and the other in his left hand. His hand envelops yours before sliding down to the small of your back, just above the flowers.

Just like you thought you two were the only ones about to dance, and people were quickly realizing that.

“Don’t look around, I want to see those beautiful eyes aimed at me.” With warm cheeks, you gaze up at Blaise who smiles back at you taking the first step in the dance. Completely confident in your steps, you follow his lead while he guides you in circles.

“This dress is the best gift anyone’s ever given me and don’t even get me started on the jewelery, thank you.” You step back as Blaise raises his arm to spin you, showcasing the multiple layers of tulle whirling around you.

“Does this mean I need to begin drafting another?” The moment you step back into each other’s space it feels as if the whole room is empty save for you two.

“If I could make a request, would you mind yellow?” The slight grimace crossing his face makes you laugh.

“And your very first flaw rears its ugly head.” You swallow the chuckle that wants to escape so that you can back away from Blaise once more. This time you both take a step to your left before holding your palms close but not touching. With your left hand behind your back, you keep your eyes on the only person in the room as you walk in a circle.

“Where would I even wear another dress like this?” Events like this don’t exactly happen every week.

“I’ll plan another party for you.” His words cause your heartbeat to thunder in your chest you almost thought he could hear it.

All playful banter between you ceased and all that could be heard were the strings of violins increasing in tempo. At the same time, you turn so that your right hand can hold a sliver of space between them. Something within his eyes made a jolt run through your body as if you took Amortentia.

With the tempo slightly decreasing it was time for you to stand side by side, facing the fireplace and his hand guiding you backward. Now that the both of you are facing each other once again you circle the other in a figure-eight motion. If you were thinking about anything other than Blaise you would feel ridiculous but there was nothing else running through your mind.

His mouth firmly remains in a smile and yours mirrors his if the strain in your cheeks had any say. Your dance comes to an end when you face each other before your last curtsey. Applause fills the room and you remember you’re not alone.

“I think it’s time for a tour.” Blaise bends down to speak lowly into your ear and a shiver runs down your spine.

“I would love that.” You place your hand on his bicep and follow his lead out of the ballroom.

The corridors are dim with only candles lighting your path. Your heels click rhythmically in time with Blaise’s steps, echoing off the walls.

“You’re enjoying yourself I take it?” Even though he meant to sound sure you could hear the doubt in his voice.

“I love it, I love this dress, and spending time with you isn’t terrible.” Everything about tonight has been great and you were starting to come around to the idea of actually being with Blaise. Maybe the deal with his mother’s dead husband had a logical explanation.

“That sparkle in your eye tells me it’s a little better than terrible.” He slows to a stop before sliding his arm around your waist. An alcove that has stained glass lets the moonlight shine through allowing the colors to reflect off your skin.

“It would kill me to admit my parents are right.” Your whisper causes the biggest smirk to split his face and you almost retract your statement.

“It would kill me if you were to let that stop you.” Both of his hands find themselves planted on your waist playing with the jewels.

After a moment of looking at you his thumb and forefinger lift your head so he can press his lips delicately to yours. You tilt your head to kiss him back while your hands find purchase on his biceps. The way his thumb caresses your cheek makes you lose all inhibitions. Suddenly your hand wraps around the back of his neck to bring his lips closer, your poor dress getting squished in the process.

It felt like the two of you were molded together, if someone walked past they wouldn’t know where you end and Blaise begins. A groan sounds from him as he slides his hand from your face to the back of your neck, balling his fist full of your hair. When he pulls a gasp leaves your lips and allows him to slide his tongue in.

“Godric, save that for the honeymoon.” Theodore’s voice and Draco’s laugh feel like cold water being poured over you. Blaise’s hand leaves your hair but stays around your waist while you keep both of your hands at your side. Lip gloss makes his lips irregularly shiny and you're tempted to wipe it but you're interrupted.

“Your mother’s asking for the both of you, so we did you a favor and came ourselves.” Draco smiles before raising his glass of fire whiskey and tipping it back.

You and Blaise begin leading the long trek back to the ballroom.

“They’re going to breed like gnomes.” There was no telling who mumbled that out but it resulted in laughter spilling out from everyone.

#blaise zabini x female reader #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini imagine #slytherin boys #slytherin #harry potter fanfiction #hufflepuff #hufflepuff x slytherin #hufflepuff reader

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jokingmisfit · 14 days

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Science Experiment

Yandere Villain Rise!Donatello x Human!Reader

Prompt- “I was going to kill you, but I found a much better use for you instead.”

Warnings-Kidnapping, Implied Human Experiments, Implied Human Torture, Human being kept as a pet, Implied Murder

It had been so long. You were so fucking tired. You knew it’d been a few months, you just don’t know the exact number. You’ve been in this hell hole for too long. He didn’t let you keep count of the days and whenever you asked he’d give you a loose answer.

He’d stopped his experiments a few days ago. You remember when Donatello first kidnapped you, he told you the only way you’d ever experience peace again was when he’d lost interest and killed you. A part of you felt hopeful. Finally a minute of rest. Another part of you knew that you’ll be resting forever soon. You were equally terrified.

The past few days were peaceful in your isolated cell. A little cage in the corner of his massive lab. You can still see him just like he can still see you. The thing is, he's just been staring these past few days. Glares and no words. Donatello would normally experiment on you several times a day. You noticed it’d lessened over time, but the new schedule worried you as much as it calmed you.

He fed you more too than he originally did. Patched you up after his tests. Spoke less and yet did more. It confused you. At least you could rest. The time you’ve been given has helped rid your body of some of its pain. Though you were aware you wouldn’t leave this lab alive, it was nice to feel some sort of healing; even though you’ll never be the same as you were before.

You knew Donatello had no problem with killing you. You’d seen him bring in other “subjects” , quite a few on the brink of death or already dead. Everytime he did you’d watch with morbid curiosity. Unable to look away from his gross administrations. In the beginning you’d silently cry at what you saw now however you only let the pity last a few seconds. One of the few things he did successfully was desensitize you to the gore.

The lab was currently silent aside from the buzz of the multitude of machines. Your eyes were closed as you enjoyed the moment of solitude. A moment that wouldn’t last.

The doors opened and Donatello came in smoothly. A body carried by his mechanical arms. Not a glance spared to you as he sets up a table. Tools spread on a separate one.

He turns and walks towards your cell. You avoid meeting his eyes, something you’d started towards the beginning to keep him from lashing out at you. Donatello opens the door and grabs your chains.

Crawling out of the cage and onto the floor you stand in front of him with your head turned down head down.

“Sigh,” He says rather than actually sighing. “Look at me.” He demands.

Simply you obey, learning a while back that it did nothing but make things worse to argue or disobey. His eyes matched his pleased smirk. He always liked when you listened. You made it so easy for him.

“Such a fragile creature.” He says raising his hand and stroking your cheek. “You remember our conversation when you first came here, yes?” He asks with a prideful smirk.

You nod your head silently.

“Ah good!” Donatello says clasping his hands together. “Remind me,” He starts. “What did I say I’d do to you once you were no longer useful?” He asked this time with a sadistic smile.

Your heart skipped for a second, but you knew this was coming. It was time for him to rid you of your life. There’s a sort of bittersweet feeling to it. You were no longer useful. A deep breath in and you look away for a moment.

“Once I’m no longer needed you’ll dispose of me.” You say flatly.

Your eyes meet his again. Donatello's eyes bore into your own, seemingly satisfied with your answer, but there was something gathering in his eyes that you’d only seen a few times.

“Yes,” He smiles almost in anger. “That was the original plan.”

You look up at him with confusion. What does he mean “the original plan”?

“However,” He says, holding his hands together pointed at you. “Things have changed. Don’t get me wrong, I was going to kill you, but I found a much better use for you instead.”

Your brows furrowed at the turtle's words. What better use? Hasn’t he done all he can? All the experiments, wasn’t he done with you?

He pulls your chain causing your head to look up at him. “Would you like to know what I’ve decided?” He asks. “I’ve decided to keep you as a pet instead. You see,” He says walking you towards the center of the lab. “I noticed something different about you. The odd little human you are.” He says, shaking his head with a deranged smile. “Captured my affections somehow. Fascinating, how something so weak and pathetic could capture MY attention.”

Your head reeled at this revelation. He developed some deranged likeness for you. How would something like that even happen?

You’d paused all movement in your confusion causing him to pull on the chain sending you to the floor. It knocks the wind out of your lungs for only a split second.

Donatello turns around in shock. He stops his talking as he shakes his head. He comes back over to you and pulls you back to your feet.

“Sorry.” You say looking down. Although you didn’t talk much anymore you knew better than to not apologize.

“Were you even listening to me?” He asks, annoyed.

You nod. “Mostly…”

“I was listing your new rules.” He says adjusting the chain around your neck. “I recommend you listen carefully. Understood?”

You nod, again.

“Good, now. You’ll be moved into another room to sleep, although you’ll still spend most of your time here in the lab. You haven’t been stimulated or fed properly since you’ve been brought here therefore you will be put on a proper schedule. You still are not allowed any communication with any of the others in the lair…” He drones on and on.

You listen intensely to everything he has to say. Following him blindly as he leads you around the extra spaces you’re allowed to tread through. Still, as you listen, you can’t help but wonder what he was thinking. Why is he really letting you live? Where did this destructive heart come from?

Why you?

#rise donatello x reader #donatello tmnt x reader #donatello hamato x reader #yandere donatello #yandere rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #yandere rise donnie #yandere rise donnie x reader #yandere donatello x reader #yandere tmnt x reader #yandere tmnt

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bigboysteveharrington · 2 years

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Steve giving in and letting Dustin talk him into playing D&D with Eddie and his friends. Dustin helps him make his character beforehand but Steve doesn’t totally understand a lot of it so when they get there and Eddie asks what his alignment is, Steve doesn’t realize he’s asking about his character or what an alignment even is and he’s like “both I think”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger and takes a deep breath and resists the urge to snap out I thought you said you prepared him for this, Henderson because he doesn’t want to scare Steve off five minutes in so instead he takes a second to calm himself and his eyes are closed and he’s focusing so hard on trying to keep himself from shouting but there’s still an edge to his voice as he lets his morbid curiosity get the best of him and asks “both of what?”

And Steve’s like “What do you mean? There’s only two options, isn’t there?”

And now Steve’s confused because everyone’s looking at him weird, but he’s heard of guys being into guys and obviously he’s heard of girls being into girls considering he’s best friends with Robin and he’s told her about him liking both and she never said that wasn’t allowed or that there was some other option? How do you like more than both? (Steve lives in Hawkins in the 80s so he still hasn’t found out about gender not being a this or that deal)

And now Steve’s less sure of himself so he asks “Why are you all looking at me like that? What option would there even be outside of girls and guys?”

And Eddie catches on first while everyone looks so confused, but it takes him a moment of just staring open-mouthed at Steve and he’s not even sure if he’s more surprised that Steve isn’t exclusively into women or that when he thought that was what Eddie was asking, he just announced it in front of the whole Hellfire Club before he manages to find the words to say, “I asked your alignment, not your orientation”

And Steve furrows his brow and tilts his head a little and his “oh” sounds more confused than anything so Eddie adds “your character’s alignment, Harrington” and Steve says “I don’t know what that is” and turns to Dustin for help because he made the character so he must know but Dustin’s just gaping at him so Steve asks “dude, what is it?” But Dustin’s still stuck on the fact that in all of their conversations about Steve’s love life that Steve never once mentioned being into guys so he asks “what the hell, Steve?”

And Steve has a moment of panic while he can’t tell if he’s in trouble for not remembering his character’s alignment or because Dustin has a problem with him liking both (which Robin has warned him could be a possibility if you tell the wrong person, but this is Henderson and he really didn’t think that after the bullshit they’ve been through so far that that would blow things up and he didn’t think it was all that risky bringing it up in a group that literally formed because the people in it are different than and don’t fit in with the average high school student and when he shares way more deadly secrets with the majority of them) but he finds out pretty fast that neither of those is what Dustin’s annoyed about when he glares at Steve and complains, “Come on, man. We’re best friends. How have you never brought this up before?”

And Steve just shrugs and says “it never came up” and Dustin says “oh, sure, it’s never come up but you tell Eddie just like that?” And Steve’s confused because he said it in front of all of them so it’s not like he wasn’t just as willing to have Henderson know or like he wouldn’t have told Henderson on his own if he’d had reason to, so Steve just says “he asked”

And Eddie raises his hands up in a show of innocence as he says “I definitely did not, but that’s… good to know” and Eddie’s never just casually thrown his sexuality out there because he’s well aware he would not win in a fight and he’s terrified of getting hate crimed but his friends are giving him looks like they’re wondering about it from the way he said it and how tense he suddenly went but even if no one is harassing Steve for liking guys, he’s not about to just throw his own orientation out there five seconds after finding out Steve likes guys just to make himself look desperate and have everyone know that it must have happened when he’d inevitably (in his mind) get rejected so he focuses back on the game and snaps his fingers petulantly as he asks “Henderson, what’s his alignment?”

#I am debating making a short (at least compared to my other one) fic around this #Of course with Eddie finding out that he would not get rejected #Also when Dustin’s like dude we’re best friends how have you not told me about this Eddie is sitting there like 😳😬 because he’s also not #telling Dustin but Dustin just doesn’t realize that there’s a reason queer people can’t just go around announcing it without risking their #safety #Honestly I should make a tag for things I’m going to go back and write a fic for possibly #It would make keeping track easier #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Dustin Henderson #Steddie #Stranger Things #ST4 #ST #Mine

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weirdmarioenemies · 7 months

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HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

We have a frightening tale for you today... reader be scare, you're in to beware! Please, come in. Sit in the Chilling Chair at our Terrible Table in our Devious Dining Room. Now, I hope you're hungry, because we've made plenty of PETRIFYING PASTA! Fufufu... let's begin.

It was looking to be a very special Halloween. This particular year, the holiday had fallen on Friday the 13th! Spooktacular! Alas, nobody could go trick or treating, for there was a blood moon that day, and nobody wanted to be outside where their costumes would be stained with all the blood. Sigh... what a boring, uneventful day it was shaping up to be!

But then... a sound right outside. The sound of the mailbox opening and closing. Mail? On this federal holiday? How strange! And a bit disconcerting... who would dare to venture out with the town moist with blood? Maybe a vampire... eep! I opened the door, shivering, worried I may accidentally invite the hypothetical vampire inside, only to find...

Nobody there. No body at all. Just a severed, green hand clinging to the mailbox. So that's what the sound was! And here I was, worried it would be something scary. I shooed the little critter away, and as it scuttled off on its fingers, I saw that it had left something in the mailbox! Something familiar.

Why, it was a copy of Super Mario 64 DS! How generous, a Halloween miracle! I had been wanting to play this lately, but my childhood game card had stopped working. This was shaping up to be a nice Halloween after all! It was a used copy, and it still had the price sticker on it, having been resold at $6.66. Upon seeing this number, I immediately screamed. Someone had gotten an incredible deal on this game!

So, I opened the box. Everything was in great condition! Even the manual was included! I don't remember the manual looking like a torn piece of paper with "I SEE YOU" written on it with blood, but it's been a long time. I know I still have my original manual around somewhere, so no need to flip through this one. I got right to playing the game!

What a rush of nostalgia! There was my friend Mario's funny face on the touch screen, ready to be tapped! And tap I did! Rather than the game drawing the lineart of Mario's face, though, it drew something else. A tombstone with my full name, date of birth, and another, later date written on it. Weird! Must be a weird coincidental thing drawn by the previous owner? I played around with the squiggly lines and spun it around. It was fun :)

I got right into the game, and everything was just as I remembered it! I was visited by Lakitu, went into the castle, and jumped into the first painting, like I had so many times before. But something definitely was strange here. I was reasonably certain that the first mission of Bob-omb Battlefield was not called "Kill The Big Bob-omb Dead" in any version of the game! Nevertheless, I continued on.

That was when I saw it. Where I would expect a Bob-omb Buddy to stand was the most terrifying character design I had ever seen. Against my better judgement, I approached and interacted with it.

"Hi! I'm Bob-omb...

BLOODY!!!"

EEK! I could not believe my eyes! I would expect such material in an "adults only"-rated game, but in MARIO?! I had no idea what to do. I continued playing for some foolish reason, running off toward the Big Bob-omb the way I always would, hoping to find comfort in the familiar. The game felt normal again, aside from how Big Bob-omb left a large splatter of realistic blood on the ground when defeated, and I was mercifully brought back to the safety of Peach's Castle.

And yet... I felt a morbid curiosity. An urge to continue playing. Maybe it was just a glitch? Maybe the second mission would be back to normal, and I would get to see my friend Koopa the Quick? That would be nice. I selected the second mission, and...

It was normal. It was safe. The Bob-ombs, Buddies. Maybe none of that was even real. Maybe I was still shaken up about the knock at the door earlier? Whatever it was, it wasn't important anymore. I could finally play my funny Mario game and have fun! I walked on over to my friend the Koopa and interacted with him.

"Excuse me? Can I help you? Who are you?"

I was confused. Wasn't he supposed to ask for Mario? Wasn't this Koopa the Quick?

And then, as if he heard me, he turned his head. He wasn't looking at Yoshi. He was looking straight through the screen at me, and his eyes were more realistic than ever.

"I'm not Koopa the Quick.

I'm Koopa the TRICK!"

AIIIIIEEEEE!!!

Of course, none of this has been real! Just some Halloween Hijinxs! There is no such thing as a realistic turtle!

...Or is there?

That's for you to find out... heehee! Happy Halloween!

#mario #super mario 64 ds #bob omb buddy #koopa the quick #halloween #creepypasta #unreality #long post #mod chikako

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avelera · 2 months

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"The Regime" (starring Kate Winslet and Matthias Schoenaerts) Episode 2 Review

So last week I gave my review of this first episode of this.... rather perplexing show. And this week, mostly out of morbid curiosity, I tried out episode 2 and thought I'd share my impressions of it.

Once again, let's start with the good:

Matthias Schoenaerts (aka, Booker from The Old Guard) is acting his face off in this. So is Kate Winslet.

That said, they are acting their faces off in completely different shows.

But it kinda works?

Hold on, wait a minute, let me start again, because like this show, I'm immediately completely muddled by how I feel about all this or what the fuck is going on.

Let me put it this way. I thought I was signing up for a sort of "Death of Stalin" political satire, with fictionalized object lessons that clearly applied as cautionary tales to modern political issues like Trump, or Putin, or the Royal Family or whatever, using a heaping side helping of comedy.

That's not quite what we got. And I think the people who signed up for that are going to be... at least a little disappointed. The comedy is absurdist and definitely relies on the cringiness of the big personalities involved. But for me, at least, there wasn't quite enough comedy to say this is, well, a comedy.

If you have historical familiarity with various historical regimes and dictators, you'll definitely get a "Where's Waldo" of traits and idiosyncrasies of various dictators all blended together into Kate Winslet's character as she portrays this fictionalized regime head. You'll get your standard cast of various Political Advisors all tutting over her actions and which way this fictional country should go.

But since it is fictional (it seems based heavily on Moldova as of this episode?) a lot of the political clout, to me, didn't exactly land because again, it's not based on real events so I really don't know where any of this is going or which decisions are actually good or bad in the long run.

And if the show was just going to be about that, I definitely would have quit out of it by now, pending good reviews of the finale somehow pulling everything together.

But now for the really unexpected bit.

Because if you signed up for a dark romance between an absurd, psychologically irregular, frankly bizarre would-be dictator who has the occasional moment of pathos, as played by the stunning and talented Kate Winslet, and her psychosexual relationship with her violently masculine, brooding, and supremely fucked-up self-appointed guard dog with the occasional moment of pathos, as played with dark and terrifying intensity by Matthias Schoenaerts, holy fuck do I think you're about to have the time of your life.

Like, I think the show wants to resonate with Veep audiences who are here for a cringey absurd political comedy, but I think the people who are actually going to be absolutely frothing-at-the-mouth obsessed with this show are like... your Reylo shipping Dark Fucked Up Romance people and Tumblr fandom in general who would really enjoy Villain/Sidekick or Villain/Bodyguard romances as seen when this Possibly Evil Dictator and her Possibly Evil Guard Dog/Advisor are being completely obsessed with each other, all with a rather small side of absurdist comedy as things continue to spiral and get gradually more fucked up.

Now, this is just my review as of 1.02. I have no idea if that's where this show is going because the problem I have with this episode is kinda just a slightly lesser version of the problem I had with 1.01, which could be a matter of taste, in that I really have no fucking clue what this show is going for or what it's trying to accomplish. It's not really laugh out loud funny. It hasn't really said anything political yet. We can't really tell yet what cautionary tales we're supposed to take away, if any?

But in the meantime, there's Winslet and Schoenaerts performing in completely different genres being darkly obsessed with each other and, y'know what, I might stick around just for the slow-motion-trainwreck fascination with whatever the fuck they've got going on.

#the regime #kate winslet #matthias schoenaerts

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re-1124c41 · 5 months

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The ward was nearly silent. Outside, beyond the closed door, there were quieted sounds of machinery and voices, of trolleys rattling by and footsteps dutifully following them. With the window cracked open, there was a soft breeze rustling the sheer curtains and tickling over his arms. On the bedside stand, a whiteboard and marker sat next to a vase of flowers and several well-wishing cards.

There was a low hum of the monitor on the other side of the bed, a near imperceptible drip of the fluid in the IV bag feeding into the catheter at his elbow.

A gentle knock on the door, before it creaked open and someone peeked inside. It was enough to stir him from dozing into wakefulness.

He wouldn’t have recognized the man, if not for his hat and his suit. Something painful in his heart clenched as the visitor stepped quietly into the room. He tried to swallow, opened his mouth to speak as the man approached, but no sound came. The bandage at his throat was too tight, the injury too painful, to even utter a greeting.

“Good evening, Desmond.” Skulduggery Pleasant said softly. His face was a sloping sort of oval shape, with wide brows and light brown hair combed back. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

Desmond sighed and let himself deflate back into the pillows. He shook his head a little, and Skulduggery nodded.

“I’m very sorry for what happened,” Pleasant said sympathetically. “I hope the prognosis, however, is a positive one.”

Resignedly, Desmond nodded and reached for the whiteboard his wife had left at his side. He scribbled a short message, the catheter in his arm and the medication in his system making his handwriting sloppy.

They say I’m lucky. He wrote. They say it missed my jugular. Apparently I’m concussed too.

“Then I promise to keep this as brief as I can. You need rest if you’re going to make a fully recovery,” Skulduggery said sagely. “I wanted to see you, to make sure you are going to be all right.”

Desmond used the hem of the blanket he was tucked into to wipe the board clean. It left a black smear and residue on the cloth, but he didn’t care – he was already writing again.

Thank you for coming. I think I’m concussed.

“Yes, that is quite apparent, yes.”

Have you seen my wife? I’m worried about her. I don’t want her to be mad I missed Alice’s dance recital.

“I spoke with Melissa earlier, whilst you were in surgery,” Skulduggery replied gently “She’s not mad, she just very worried about what happened to you.”

The next question took Desmond a moment to put into words; finally, it felt best to take the most obvious approach.

Where is my daughter, Skulduggery?

Skulduggery was silent as he considered the question. Almost too quiet, Desmond felt, for comfort. He couldn’t have been certain, and he put most of it down to the concussion and the amount of hallucinogenic medication he was on, but the memories of the incident were…

Terrifying. They were awful, horrible memories that he wished, more than anything, were just conjuring’s of his badly bruised mind.

Skulduggery reached into the collar of his white shirt and a moment later, the face he was wearing shifted and melted away, receding back to reveal the polished white skull underneath. Desmond watched the process with fascination – once, the whole ordeal had frightened him. But now it was more of a morbid curiosity. Where did all that skin go?

“She is safe,” Skulduggery said eventually. He sat on the edge of the hospital bed, looking down at the hat in his hands. “She…she asked me to come and see you.”

Please bring back my little girl, Desmond found himself scrawling the words without a second thought. Please. I need to see her.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea right now,” Skulduggery replied gently. “She is going through something beyond anything I’ve ever witnessed, and until we know what we’re dealing with and how to make things right, I’m afraid that it’s better if she stays at a safe distance.”

Desmond could feel the tears dripping down his cheeks. His hands were trembling and there was nothing he could do to stop them. So it was real. The feathers, the screaming.

The blood.

Skulduggery reached over, somewhat awkwardly, and put a gloved hand over Desmond’s. “I am sorry, Desmond.”

Swallowing back more tears, Desmond scribbled again.

What will happen to her? Is she a monster?

“No,” Skulduggery said quickly. “She is…changing. There are things happening greater than you or I, and she made choices – she took the brunt of the forces at play to protect those she loved. For the greater good, but it has caused her a lot of change, and suffering. She never meant to hurt you.”

Can you protect her?

Skulduggery was still. “I can try.” He cleared his throat, and stood. “I’d better go, and leave you to rest.”

Wait, Desmond’s silent plea caught Skulduggery’s attention as he waved a hand to stop him leaving. I need to ask something of you. Please.

“Anything.”

He hurriedly scrawled his request, having to backtrack and smudge out a few mistakes along the way, but finally, he turned the board back to the skeleton.

You must have something magic to make people forget. I don’t want my family to be burdened by my daughter’s disappearance having anything to do with my situation now. My Stephanie is not to blame. Please, there has to be something you can do to make us forget.

For a while, Skulduggery seemed to think on it. Then he replaced his hat on his skull, reached into his collared shirt, and a new face, different to his previous one, flowed up over the bone. This one had black hair and deep-set eyes.

“I might have something that could work. You’ll need to give me a day or two to modify it, and there’s no guarantee it will even be successful as it’s untested on erasing events after the fact. But I can try.”

Desmond nodded along, before scrawling again. Let me be your test subject.

“I wouldn’t want to expose you to any possible side effects, Desmond,” Skulduggery began, but Desmond waved him away, and pointed at his scribbles again. Defeated, the skeleton wearing the false face sighed. “Very well. Give me some time, and I’ll be back.”

-:-

It took longer than a few days – in fact, it took nearly two and a half weeks, but true to his word Skulduggery returned. It was the morning that Desmond was being discharged, finally able to go home with his bereft family. Melissa was still tearfully speaking with the police, Alice clinging to her side and her hand clasped tightly in Desmond’s as he sat beside them in a wheelchair.

The next thing he knew, Skulduggery was stepping through the big automatic doors into the hospitals main foyer. It was the walk that gave him away; so purposeful, so dignified. Relief washed through Desmond at the sight of the skeleton detective – although, he was a little cloudy as to why he was so relieved. Since his concussion had eased and he’d regained a little more of his senses, he couldn’t quite grasp the details of that conversation he’d had two weeks ago.

He had had to erase all the things he’d written on the whiteboard – the doctors theorized it would likely take a few months until his vocal cords healed well enough for him to speak again, and even then, it would likely mean another few months following that in speech therapy.

“Edgely’s,” Skulduggery greeted them all kindly, and Melissa just about threw herself at the detective in a rage, demanding answers. How dare he be so absent when their family was so distraught? How could he live with himself when Desmond nearly died and Stephanie was gone?

Her grief came out so venomous, it felt sharp to Desmond even though it wasn’t aimed his way. He hated when things drove his beautiful wife to such fury.

Skulduggery was pressing something between his hands, saying words that didn’t quite make sense to Desmond’s ears. Suddenly Melissa stopped her wrath and listened, confused. Alice was squeezing his hand tightly, completely wrapped with the words Skulduggery spoke. Something about a mugger, with a knife, hiding out in Grimwood. That sounded like it made sense, Desmond’s addled mind decided. Someone who hadn’t meant to hurt him, just tried to rob him and it all got out of hand so quickly, someone with enough remorse to call an ambulance before fleeing the scene.

Stephanie’s panicked eyes were fading from the picture. Like an oil painting that was having something new painted over the top. She wasn’t gone – well, she was, but she had gone on a case. Off saving the world again. Different colours changed the shape of the scene. A blurred face hidden by a dark mask. The flash of a blade, painted over claws covered in blood. That’s right, wasn’t it?

Whatever was in Skulduggery’s hands was glowing a beautiful soft lavender, brightest at its core. Desmond marveled at it as the skeleton’s deep voice seemed to captivate even the police officers standing around them, two of them no longer trying to physically restrain Melissa from attacking Skulduggery. Her eyes were clouded, uncertain. Then they cleared, and she was nodding along like it was all perfectly simple.

All of a sudden it was over, Skulduggery pocketing the thing he’d been holding onto. He was here to wish them well, to bring them his deepest condolences once again about the horrible mugging gone wrong just the other day. That they were doing everything in their power to track down the person responsible and bring them to justice.

Relief was the first of many things Desmond felt. Thank goodness Skulduggery had come to see them, to reassure them they were going to be safe. The skeleton detective was saying something about posting someone on guard around the Edgley house for a few days, just to be sure. Grimwood had already been locked down and safe guarded against any other potential intruders. They were on the case, hunting down the mugger so that this would never happen again.

Everything was going to be all right. Desmond gave his little girls hand a squeeze, and she looked down at him and smiled. He couldn’t crane his neck back very far without putting painful pressure on the healing wound across his throat, still heavily bandaged, but she reached down and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a big hug.

Shortly after, they left the hospital, Desmond successfully discharged and sent home with a lap full of painkillers and anti-inflammatory medications. A follow-up appointment scheduled with the doctor for next week to check on his throat injury. Melissa drove them home in a subdued silence, Alice in the backseat staring idly out the window. Skulduggery had given him a plain white envelope when they had parted ways with the detective in the parking lot, and as the girls had been fussing about getting all of Desmond’s things from his hospital stay packed into the boot, the skeleton had passed him the envelope with the instructions that it was only to be opened when he contacted Desmond that it was safe to do so.

Desmond was still confused by that instruction. Why wouldn’t it be safe to open the envelope at any other time? Why did he have to wait? Surely, he reasoned with himself, if Detective Pleasant had said so, then it was to be done.

And then their eldest daughter vanished. Stephanie had disappeared, as if into thin air, barely a week later, with no trace or sign left behind. Grimwood was completely deserted – even the blood on the pavement outside the front entryway had been power-washed clean. Where he’d had that run in with that mugger, where his injury had occurred.

The heartbreak was immeasurable. He felt like he’d rather the pain of his throat being slashed all over again, if it would stop the pain and sorrow in his heart. Oh, how Melissa and Alice cried. There were many nights of lost sleep in the following weeks, many visits from the police and many more from Skulduggery, promising that everything and anything that could be done to find their first born child would be done. But their beautiful dark-haired daughter was gone.

Still, Desmond held onto the envelope, like whatever was within it held all of the answers to the universe, answers he somehow knew he wasn’t ready for. Answers beyond his comprehension of the world.

But curiosity won out eventually. It didn’t take all that long, really, for Desmond’s resolve to wear thin. He lasted several months, lasted through many trips to the doctors and through many sessions of speech therapy. Through the long days of bereavement and through the many hours of holding his sobbing wife, of cradling his youngest daughter until she cried herself to sleep. The envelope sat in the back of his sock drawer, where he’d forgotten about it many times already; some times from the outstanding circumstances and some times because he had thought it such a good hiding place, surely no one would find it. Until he had come across it in search of a pair of socks with no holes in the heels, and he had remembered. And the curiosity had started chewing at his mind again.

Finally, one night when Melissa had gone to fetch Alice from a slumber party that their daughter had wanted to come home early from, Desmond took the mystery envelope and taken a walk down to the pier. It had been one of Stephanie’s favourite places to spend her teenage years, if he was remembering right. It gave him some comfort facing the prospect of opening the envelope he’d been made to promise he wouldn’t dare peek into until he was told he could.

He had considered calling Skulduggery, to double check if it really was all that serious that he not open it, but had reasoned that if the sly detective really hadn’t wanted him to look inside it, he wouldn’t have given Desmond the envelope in the first place.

So he sat on a rock, running his thumb over the white folded piece of sealed card, and tried to imagine what was inside.

Then, he slipped his thumb under the seal, and gingerly tore the envelope open. Into his hand fell a long, dark grey feather, speckled with white. It was beautiful.

The night of the incident came flooding back to him, almost knocking him right off the rock he’d perched on. Getting out of the car at Grimwood several months ago now, hearing the sounds of pained cries and retching. Seeing his eldest daughter, blood and dark matter running down her arms, vomiting into the plant pot on the front step by the door. The panic in her eyes, the way her teeth bulged and grew sharp. The thudding in his chest as he felt so torn – to run screaming from the horrible scene, and to run closer, to bundle his baby girl up into his arms and try and protect her.

The way she’d shoved him away, the strange gurgle he made, echoing in his ears, as his breath suddenly went all strange and something hot went running down his neck and stained his shirt. The way he’d fallen back against the car, the way Stephanie had been screaming and crying. She had fallen to her knees in front of him, blubbering and saying she was sorry, she was so sorry -

The sirens overhead, waking in the ambulance. Opening his eyes to the ward after the emergency surgery. Who had called the ambulance? The tears as his wife and daughter came running in on the heels of the doctors.

Desmond was shaking. It was a splash of salty sea-spray over his face that brought him back, found his feet under him. Somehow he’d stood up in his shock, stumbled right to the edge of the pier, still clutching the feather, as if he were ready to cast it into the sea.

Oh, he remembered now. The conversation with Skulduggery. He had wanted to forget, and he had ruined it. Whatever the skeleton detective had done, Desmond had gone had ruined it for himself. Oh, you stupid man.

He took a step back, let himself plonk back down onto the rock, and held the feather close. He couldn’t stop the sobs as they shook his whole body. His daughter had turned into a monster, and now she was gone. And he would have given anything to forget all over again.

#mercy a writes #sp roll the bones #desmond edgley #skulduggery pleasant #mercy a's art #mercy a sketches #tw: blood #tw: body horror #valkyrie cain #alice edgley #melissa edgley #tie-in to the main Roll the Bones story

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madwomansapologist · 10 months

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hello everything is fine ?,

I saw your requests are open could you make an imagine with morpheus x reader where s/o want a baby "I want a baby, Morpheu." you whisper: "Your baby if you want it".

wandering to Her (or: expending the family with morpheus)

synopsis: You fear death. I mean, you love Death, but you fear dying. But after spendind a day with her, seeing her taking those who fallen and talking to those who were just born, you understood more about life than you could ever imagine. You understood why you love to dream, and then you realized something that you have never thought about before. You understood that you wanted immortality. The true one. [1K]

warnings: talking about death with Death. i've cried writing this so be aware.

ps: thanks for your request! i don't really know if he can have kids, didn't read the comics yet, so this is all speculation. it was supposed to be a headcanons, but i got emotional. i'm warning everyone: i'm one neil gaiman's post away from rewatching the whole show. hope you enjoy it!

It all start with Death. As usual.

With her, time didn't seem to work. It always went by too fast, while at the same time everything took too long to happen. She has this singular orbit. A gravity of her own.

Death is so different from what you expected. She's kind. She's patient. She's loving. She cares. Death isn't fighting to conquer more souls or anything you could've imagine she would want. She's not fighting, because they'll eventually be hers. It's easy to be aware of your own mortality when she's around.

And maybe that's why you invited yourself to spend a day with Death. You wanted to see how it was that last moment. What Death said, if she said anything at all. How people reacted. You were curious. What is death if not time acting on beings? It was a morbid curiosity, but a valid one.

"You already knew I talked to humans when they're born," Death caresses the baby's little fingers. So tiny, so soft, so singular. A being that don't know pain, wickedness, suffering. A being that need to be protected. "I've told you."

You approached the crib. Your hand pushed against the wood, swaying slightly. It was instinctual. You rocked him without even realizing it. You sniffled. "You remember what you said to me?"

At moments like this you remember how old she is. No matter how young she looks, no matter how good she is to talk to, Death is older than you will ever be able to comprehend. And she will be the last of her siblings to leave. Endless, until she's no more.

"After I breath live into you," Death whispered to not awake the babies on the maternity. If your time with Morpheys taugh you something it's that time isn't that different for the Endless. They feel it just like a human would. But you knew Death would remember. You really did. "I've told you to not fear me. I've told you to embrace me. I've told you, my dear friend, that life's destiny is death. And I warned that if you wanted to live, you would need to be willing to die. That every step you made takes you closer to me. That every book you read, every tear you cry, every friend you lost, every car you scratch, every password you forgot: you're making your way to me."

And so you realized why Dream and Death are so close. Dying is terrifying. Ceasing to exist one day without really understanding the reason for it. But to dream... The will to accomplish the things we dream of is greater than the fear of the end. It is Dream that makes us accept Death. And suddenly it's no longer about ceasing to exist one frightening day, but about existing until a fateful one.

Someone, in a past so far away that you can't even understand, decided that it was worth going on. Someone decided that a long hug was worth more than a downpour. Someone decided that talking to a lover was worth more than an earthquake. Someone decided that every disease, every evil, every pain, every tomb, every fear, every fate: everything was worth less when compared to what life has to offer.

Because someone made that choice, and then it's child, and it's child, and it's child, your grandma was born. And because she made the same decision, because she made the choice of dealing with the tumultuous in hope of something better, your mom war born. And because she made the same decision all the ancestors you remember and all the ancestors you can't even imagine did, you were born.

And isn't it what you're doing since the beginning? Choosing the hope of something better instead of the certainty of the end? Since you were eight you knew everyone dies. It took you more time to understand that it was really true. And then, since that moment, you knew what it was to be human: to be always sad because you're always aware of the end, but to choose to ignore this feeling so you can go on.

The baby sighed. He slept. He looked happy. He looked peaceful. He looked ready to be taken care of, loved and embraced. Ready to see his parents, his grandparents, his uncles. Ready to understand that he has a body, that he has a mind, and that the two are not so different from what it seems. Ready to walk, cry, love, lose, freak out, dance, sing, live. He looked ready. And so you understood that you were ready too.

"Go," Death took your hands into hers and kissed your knuckles. "Be brave."

You don't know how she knew, but you felt welcomed. You felt seen and understood. So you let Death finish her job, and went back to his realm.

To the realm of dreams and nightmares. The realm of joys and sorrows. Of fears and desires. The realm that once glowed and then decayed with the passing of its lord. For the realm that survived, proving once again that it would always survive.

You found him in the library. It must be a good day. A day without great tasks. You approached trying not to make any noise. Before you could startle him, Morpheus scared you.

"You little shit," you carressed your chest. "You want to kill me?"

Morpheus chuckled. When his velvet voice came to your ears, the fear had already dissipated. "Accept it," his tone was mischievous, but Morpheus' hold you so gently. He stroked your skin. "You lost the ability to surprise me."

You closed your eyes when he kissed your forehead, leaning towards him. Morpheus is so warm. His voice is so tender. His love is so palpable. "I want a baby, Morpheus."

"I take it back," Morpheus kissed your forehead again. He didn't pull his lips away. When Morpheus opened them again, it was as if he spoke with your mind. "As you wish."

And that, the choice to ignore certainty and dream with possibilities, is true immortality.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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jazztag · 4 months

Text

A Cure for Solitude III

The next day, the Tall Man doesn’t come. Instead, what comes is much, much worse.

Suddenly, his entrails appear to be on fire, and an increasing hunger eats his brain mercilessly, infecting his thoughts with the only desire to consume. His nose gets extremely sensible to all of his surroundings, and as if possessed, his body starts taking him out of the room of mirrors and into the big hall of the shopping center.

He finds himself entering what appears to be a supermarket. And for the first time, he isn’t alone anymore.

Walking by the corridors, he finds more creatures that, like him, seem to move towards smell. A rotten and absolutely tasty smell that covers the walls and makes them all congregate around the refrigerated sector of the store.

Alongside other undead people, he stumbles to get one of the packages containing raw meat, and after successfully getting his way onto one with raw seasoned chicken wings, gets thrown to the floor and stepped on by the rest of the orde. He embraces his little treat as if the most valuable thing ever and starts retreating towards the opposite wall, sitting by the dairies to regain his breath.

Now, still deadly hungry but less preoccupied by it, lets himself watch with morbid curiosity the spectacle in front of him: all the others fighting each other for the available meat. There’s a group of creatures that have started a fight over one piece of steak. There’s one who is chewing at another’s leg, and someone is on the floor, lacking one hand, and starting to eat their other one. So much chaos, so many animalistic growls and screams.

Still seated on the floor, he wonders if that’s how the Tall Man sees him.

Suddenly, there’s a big noise. And before he can even comprehend where it’s coming from, he starts hearing shots and gets on his stomach without missing a beat. There’s some commotion and shouting, and the rest of the creatures start running in different directions. There’s a vehicle right at the doors of the store, and it appears to have people, like actual, living people, coming down towards the orde. They are screaming “bloody zombies” and “kill them all” and each of them has a firearm.

He panics. One thing’s for sure: the Tall Man doesn’t carry any weapons, at least as far as he knows. Now, the image of people with guns fighting against animalistic human creatures terrifies him, and before he can comprehend anything more, he’s fleeing from the scene on all fours, not letting go of his chicken wings, tho. The actual people have started to lose against the zombie orde, and before he exits the store, he sees from the corner of his eye the way two zombies bite at one of the living people. Said person starts trembling on the floor, and in a minute or so, their eyes look soulless and their mouth opens hungry, for more meat. The former living person has transformed into another creature.

He turns away and disappears down the corridor, back to the furniture store, where he feels safer.

Maybe it’s the fact his brain ain’t braining anymore, or maybe he’s just very hungry, but by the time he walks past the room of mirrors and stops, he forgets about all the chaos outside and starts digging his decaying nails into the plastic container, trying to pray it open. His hands are trembling nonstop, clueless as to how to open the damn thing. He feels the hunger inside him again, and the panic settles. His movements get more and more erratic, and frustrated, the creature starts sobbing. The hunger hurts. It really hurts.

"Hey", he hears suddenly, and freezes instantly, recognizing the voice. His eyes try to focus in the dark, and he sees the Tall Man’s figure some meters away. He stumbles and leaves the food behind. Starts backing slowly, kneeling on the floor and lowering his head like a cornered dog. He is still remembering those living people with firearms, the chaos. And he wants nothing to do with it.

The Tall Man starts to walk towards him. And he panics again. Maybe the Man is one of the other living person’s group, and is about to shoot him on the head. Or worst, he wants to stuck another ouchie syringe on his arm. He is about to get up on both legs and start running as fast as he can when the Tall Man stops and crouches. The Man grabs at his food and examines it. The creature gets defensive over the chicken wings. The hunger hurts as hell, and he doesn’t want the Tall Man to steal those from him. So he emits a growl and something resembling the word “away”.

The Tall Man looks momentarily at him, unimpressed, and then with fairly easyness rips open the plastic envelope. He even looks smug doing so, and the creature rolls his eyes. Weirdly enough, the Tall Man doesn’t eat his food, he just stands there, as if inviting him to come get the food.

Maybe the Man doesn’t like chicken wings.

The hunger hits again in a wave of pain inside his intestines, and the creature bends over, grabbing at his stomach and yelps. The Tall Man observes in silence his pained movements, and decides to throw one piece of raw meat in the creature’s direction. The zombie lurks forward to the food upon smelling the decaying meat, and practically devours it in a couple of seconds. He then looks at the Tall Man, and at the rest of the food. And if asking shyly for permission, he motions towards the rest of the meat. The Man seems to understand, and backs away a bit.

The creature hesitantly moves forward, but when he has the rest of the food at arms length, it only takes him a couple of minutes to finish the rest of it. And when he is finally full and the hunger goes away and he is finally content, he realizes horrorized the Tall Man is onto him with another syringe in hand. Feeling extremely betrayed, he yelps and screeches like mad.

The Man immobilizes the creature with no effort, as he always does, like if dealing with a small and harmless small animal. And the zombie feels again his arm starting to burn from where the syringe and the unfamiliar contents hit. The Tall Man holds him down with incredible force, and the creature, while struggling, remembers (or maybe it’s an instinct) the way the other zombies bit at the living person, converting the human into one of them. And he closes his eyes and decides to bite his hand as well.

The Tall Man and the creature stop struggling against each other for a hot minute. The Tall Man looks at the creature in the eye, and then, weirdly enough, smiles. Before anything else is said, the Tall Man shows him the other hand, which has clean bandages around it from when the creature bit him, last time.

He doesn’t turn into one like me if bitten, thinks the creature. Weirded out, he starts backing away from the Tall Man, and the human lets him.

“You can’t turn me into one; no one can”, tells him the Tall Man. The creature scoffs, looking defeated.

“N-no… -t f-fair”, replies him. But he is more preoccupied with his arm right then, which has started burning as usual. The creature grabs at his limb and starts sobbing quietly. It’s getting bad again.

The Tall Man looks at him weird, like he does everytime the creature manages to speak an intelligible word. “I’ll be back for another sample tomorrow”, finally says, and steps up, towering over the creature with those blue, ice blue eyes.

God he is tall, thinks the creature, watching him disappear again into the corridors. Then he starts to shake, and embraces himself for the worst. Again.

#promptfactory #writing prompt #zombie whumpee #whump prompt #whump #prompt #whump scenario #whumpee x caretaker #my ocs #zombie #undead #writing #short story #acureforsolitude

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convex-solos · 10 months

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tell me felix just how fucked up scar and cub are in this au

Oh anon you are IN for a WILD RIDE here. I will mostly focus on their relationship with each other in order to highlight their key character traits.

I will start by mentioning that Convex’s relationship is full of nuance and is constantly evolving just like the characters themselves.

Some key elements to remember about the characters in order to understand their relationship is that Scar is characterized by a morbid need for attention and would do quite literally anything for the spotlight, while Cub is extremely prone to boredom and has to keep himself entertained in progressively more dangerous mind games and activities.

They both play 4D chess with each other. At the end of act I Scar’s crush for Cub completely escalates in a morbid attachment and downright obsession that will only get worse when Cub convinces Scar he is the only person he has left now.

Remember that Scar has just seen his face, the epitome of his beauty (which equals attention), tarnished forever, he has been humiliated by his defeat. Sure he could get plastic surgery to fix SOME of the damage, but it wouldnt be the same. His ego has been wounded too.

So Cub is there. He is the only person Scar talks to while he recovers and he makes sure to be the only “landmark” that Scar has left. So of course Scar’s obsession with Cub only gets stronger, but Scar knows this. He is aware that Cub is playing him but the thing is. He doesnt care AT ALL.

Cub is willing to give him a chance to be reborn, to forget about his failures and for once in his life take the stage for himself and do as his heart desires. He is enabling him, and that’s all that matters to Scar.

Cub is. Easily bored. He dropped out of med school after refusing to take the hippocratic oath and started a series of incredibly dubious medical practices that he managed to keep for himself, only to satisfy his own curiosity.

At some point he got bored so he decided to bring his attention to the human mind. That’s where Scar comes in. In the story Cub and Scar meet by chance in the middle of the night, they then exchange a few words about the clear luminous night sky above them.

That’s it. That’s all that happened… if it wasn’t for the fact that Cub had visible blood stains on his clothes and Scar didn’t even bat an eye. That intrigues Cub, so when Scar advertises that he’s looking for a roommate, Cub immediately takes his chance. Scar becomes his long term “project” and everything culminates to the end of the first act where Cub offers Scar the chance to work by his side. Perfect, right?

But their relationship is… extremely complicated to say the least. Cub doesn’t do “love”. He doesn’t feel that kind of attraction. Scar’s feelings aren’t love either, they’re more akin to obsession. Scar is extremely unpredictable and that drives Cub insane, but he has to admit he enjoys a challenge and Scar himself doesn’t mind at all how scarily controlling Cub is. He likes the attention :)

Cub promises Scar he will kill Grian when the time is right. You can imagine how ecstatic Scar is, he wants to destroy everything related to his “old life” in order to truly enjoy his new and better life.

When Grian takes Cub’s eye out at the end of the second act Cub’s priorities change. Now he wants to be the one to kill Grian for the sole reason she dared to actually impair him. LOL. Notice the parallels?

Things get worse when they get locked up in prison. Scar is always on edge and is extremely violent. He gets thrown into solitary confinement a couple of times. This is the point in the story where Scar realizes just how empty he is and is just a husk of his old self. He is TERRIFIED of being left alone with his thoughts.

Obsession can imply going through stages of deep hatred for the object of said obsession. So Scar does snap at Cub in this incredibly pressuring environment and it only gets worse when he learns Cub has no intention of letting him kill Grian. Cub doesn’t budge. Scar had the illusion of being finally free with Cub but it was just that. An illusion.

Scar’s mood swings from manic states to depressive episodes so he is extremely delicate to handle with, but Cub manages to keep him loyal to him, LOL! Because at the end of the day they truly only have each other. It’s too late to go back now.

Sometimes Scar scares Cub and they both know. Scar acts like he doesn’t know Cub’s tricks until he does. Their relationship is a constant push and pull, it’s a match made in hell and I wouldn’t have it any other way. <3

#masked chimes au #ask #long post #note that sometimed we throw realism out of the window #since this is mostly for fun

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oleanderblume · 1 year

Text

Hey I'm healing from top surgery so I'm gonna masterwork the stages of healing I've been experiencing cause people are always leaving shit out :D

• You will sleep. Often.

So, basically after I got my surgery done, I had a whole concoction of medication and all of it knocks you the *fuck* out. If you fight it, you're simultaneously fighting God. That being said, take it. It's made to make your existence more bearable. Because if you're Top Surgery came with liposuction, like mine did, wherever you had liposuction will hurt. So just count on doing just about fuck all during that first week.

• You will need help, accept it.

And I mean with things you don't think you should need help with. Yes, getting tall things, but also in that first week and ESPECIALLY the first couple of days post op, you might even need help getting out of bed, opening doors.

The general rule here is you can't life anything over 15lbs, but *really* it's "you can't do anything where you can feel your stitches pulling" which is basically everything sans going to the bathroom. For me, the hardest thing was being so in need of assistance, that I legitimately couldn't lift my torso up enough to get out of bed, I figured it out after day 3 though.

• You will probably have to have drains, get over it. And yes. They suck, but for a specific reason.

Everyone talks about how shitty drains are, but I've never heard them say *why* drains suck because they hurt after a period of time. Usually around end of week 1, and for me, all of week 2. By week 2, I legitimately wanted to Rio these Fulkerson out.

But I wanted to rip them out because of a bunch of reasons.

1. They werr placed in a way where i couldn't see them and had limited access to the insertion site, closer to my back than my side. This made it very hard to deal with near the end for reason 2.

2. They fucking itch, and if they don't itch, they legitimately hurt. (This is why that pain medication is helpful imo.) The insertion site has loose stitches keeping the drains in your body, and your skin eventually wants to heal around it, now imagine constantly itching and/or aching, in a place you can't touch or even fucking see— constantly.

3. It's kind of gross. This wasn't a big issue for me. I have a morbid curiosity (I wanted to take a video of my sister pulling out my drains bit they didn't) but for folks who don't like the idea of having to pour out your body juices to measure and record, that can be squicky.

4. Fucking dogs. Dogs and quick movements, especially of other people is the MOST terrifying, because I was constantly afraid of pur dog jumping up and tearing those fuckers out of my body.

Now I'm gonna talk about the actual healing process and how that feels.

Week One— The least painful, but most disabling.

The first couple of days, I was essentially entirely reliant on my sister. I couldn't go to the bathroom without her help to get out of bed. At this time, you still have the anesthesia in your system so you can't feel a whole lot, other than gravity, and you're still pretty sleepy. It's advised to get up Avery few hours to shuffle around, but honestly, taking a nap is all you'll want to do.

Of course, the sitting up rule still holds, you can't really lay flat on your back, and you won't want to, because it's hard to fucking get up without help.

As far as pain goes, you don't feel much in the actual surgery site. Some surgeons include additional liposuction (this method is used to reduce the liklihood of dog ears or excess skin from the procedure itself)

^^^this will be the most painful thing during the first week^^^

It's because you get a lot of bruising, both external and internally when you have liposuction and it causes a lot of aching. The ache will gradually fade around the week 1 end, especially if you heal well from bruising you might have some numbness left over, but likely not from the liposuction. Those bits will be tender. You'll be given (or have bought) a compression garment that will come in very handy. It's not the same as a binder in that it's much easier to remove. The tightness won't be as restrictive, and it will help with liposuction healing and keeping your gauze in place. This is made to be worn basically 24/7 with exception of showers and washing. It *will* chafe, and you *will not* feel it. Prepare for that.

You can't physically do much of anything during this week, I couldn't open or close heavy doors, grab anything heavier than maybe 5 lbs, and most definitely not reach for anything. As mentioned, I couldn't lift my own ass out of bed, so I definitely couldn't drive. They *say* you can drive after the first 2 days. Don't. 1, you're probably on pain medication which knocks you put in about an hour of taking and 2, you're probably underestimating the strength and movement involved in using a steering wheel.

Over all, this is actually the easiest part of healing, pain wise. It's definitely the hardest if you don't have someone to care for you and help you during this time because you most definitely can't do it on your own.

Week Two— This one fucking SUCKS.

This is the week that the anesthesia has definitely worn off and you're running in pain medication. I was given a concoction of Gabapentin, Oxycodone, Diazepam, and over the counter Extra Strength Tylenol. Use them. Probably more than you think you should, honestly.

I had/have a very bad habit of not taking my pain medication as much as I should be because I'm low-key afraid of overdosing, but honestly. You won't overdose unless you take waaay too much of all your meds at once.

You'll still have to be sleeping sat up a bit, but you'll have significantly more mobility and strength— that doesn't mean you can over extend yourself. The 15lb rule still exists, and you don't want to extend your arms fully.

At this point, you'll be regaining feeling, it won't be a whole lot, but it comes in stages. (I'll go in depth near the end of the post)

This is when the drains become an aggravation. If you haven't had them taken out by end of week 1, week 2 you more than likely will, and up until then, they will get worse and worse to deal with.

For me, because of where they were placed, they were directly where I couldn't see them and couldn't fuck with them, but I laid on them every night, and of course, my skin was beginning to heal over the sutures, causing aching and unbearable itchiness. THIS is why you want to take your meds. In addition, remember how I mentioned the compression garment and the chafing? You're still wearing that. And if you haven't been closely watching your chafing, by week 2, you're made fully aware of it, because your under arms and sides will have gained feeling by then, and it will fucking hurt. Get band-aids. I have a stack of them up and down my sides where my drains were, and where I've chafed the most.

By your first week post op appointment, the surgeon has probably removed your gauze and any sutures covers for nipple grafts. They'll tell you how to do nipple and scar care. This varies from surgeon to surgeon, but I'll tell you about mine.

I had nipple grafts, so for week 1, I had little gauze squares on top of my nipples and sutures into my skin to protect them. At my post op those were removed and my nipples were covered in Vaseline and telfa paper. (It's basically a medical gauze covered in a plastic that easily sticks to moisturizing gels)

As for my actual top surgery scars, instead of having open sutures, I have my stitches, along side these sticky "brackets" they are plastic and run along my front and sides, except for directly under my nipples because of proximity. The plastic little brackets act as a tension that essentially pulls my skin together and keeps the stitches from stretching and forming wide scars. They fall off on their own once the skin has healed to the point that the tension isn't sufficient for them to keep sticking to my skin (they legit look like little plastic bridges and they are very satisfying swimming tools if you like running your fingers along the bumps they make under your binder) they also move over time, my two center ones have formed a triangle lol.

These brackets prevent me from having to do regimented scar care that some other folks have to post op, so I'd ask about them in your consultations :) you still have daily nipple moisturizing, and draining if you still have drains, but that takes a load off of the laundry list of shit you have to keep track of every day.

NOW FOR PAIN :D

You will be in pain. First it will be itching. The most annoying, persistent itching you have ever felt in your life, and you have to be incredibly care where it's coming from. This itching is actually normal. Itching is the lowest registry of pain your body has, and as you heal and your nerves regenerate, you will feel a variety of very weird things, but most definitely it will involve pain and itching.

Next will be what I'm gonna term "zingers" these are like spikes of tingly pain that you get in your chest, probably in your nipples the most. They don't really hurt, so much as just feel particularly strange and they are annoying too. Not everyone will experience this, and not necessarily both nipples or at this stage, it's highly dependent on how you heal and if you regain feeling in your nipples at all.

I was expecting myself to never regain feeling in my nipples again because of the type of surgery I had (double incision) so it took me by pleasant (and also awful) surprise.

Other weird sensations as your nerves begin regenerating are "hot/cold" and "inexplicable tightness" and of course, "let's ache".

•hot/cold is basically if you took IcyHot or Vicks Vapor Rub or any kind of menthol topical ointment and rubbed it all over your chest. It doesn't hurt, but it is very interesting. It only lasted about 2 days for me, but it was notable.

•inexplicable tightness is exactly as it says. It *feels* like your skin is being pinched, this also doesn't exactly *hurt* but it's not a particularly pleasant feeling. It's just your nerves waking up and going "Oh hey, I'm closer than I was to my neighbor than the last time I checked" it's more noticeable when standing and you feel compelled to hunch over a bit because it's sort of tricking you into thinking your skin will somehow rip open if you don't. At least, it does that for me lol.

• let's ache is also exactly what it's called. It's specifically (for me, mind you) a persistent and constant ache directly along my stitches, specifically the part that wasn't given brackets because of how close it is to my nipples. This is probably the only part of me that hurts not *just* because of nerve regeneration, but also because of increased movement and higher tension because j can't put brackets there. However, I do put scar tape there, which helps, if possibly only through placebo.

By far though, the most distracting pain will be from your drains, if you still have them in.

Medication does weird stuff to your sleep pattern and dreams— additional notes.

So, because I've only just ended my Week Two of post Top Surgery, I'm gonna talk about the weird shit that the medication does and it's major affects.

So, my prescription is 2 antibiotics, 2 pain pills, 1 anxiety med, 1 antinausea. I also have over the counter pain medication, but it's functionally useless right now.

My personal routine is wake up, take antibiotics, and take at least 1 of the prescribed pain meds. My oxy lasts 6 hrs, the gabas last 12. Both will make you sleepy and dizzy, and also give you weird fucking dreams and royally fuck up your sleep schedule.

So, if you've not noticed, you'll be sleeping a lot. You're in the process of healing, and your body literally won't let you stay awake for much longer than 3 or 4 hours in that first week. Later on, it gets much easier, and if your me and don't *want* to be unconscious 90% of the time, it becomes a toss up between "Do I want to take ineffective Tylenols and be awake but in pain the whole time? Or do I want to take effective prescribed pain meds and have to lie down for a nap in roughly an hour because I'm too loopy/mentally foggy to carry on a conversation?"

The prescription wins most every time lol. Soon, as a result, I sleep a vast majority of the time. I can technically stay up in spite of the medication, but it is *very* hard, and even harder if you're trying to be active. Gabapentin is longer lasting and stronger than my oxycodone, and it makes your head feel like it's full of cotton balls. It works fantastic for pain relief, but at the cost of precision motor function and focus.

It gets harder to walk and carry on a conversation because it's a sedative and you're actively fighting your body saying "go the fuck to sleep"

Other weird side effects from the drugs and the healing have are psychological and emotional!!

It's commonly said that post top surgery you can have depression, and I would say yes— but also no.

It's more of being at the mercy of wildly fluctuating emotions and how they manifest. Typically in the form of crying, I've noticed. But not necessarily depression as I'm familiar with it.

Now, this can be for more reasons than *just* medication, and it has no bearing, in my opinion on how one might truly feel about their operation. Some factors include whether or not you take testosterone.

Low testosterone is known to be a cause of depression in cis men, and it works exactly the same for trans men and people who take testosterone. Previous to your surgery, you'll be required to stop taking a lot of your medications, including T if you're on it. This massive dip in T can *definitely* contribute to feeling depressed post op, but for a lot of guys familiar with T, this is a kind of depression you can largely tell is artificial— because it goes away the next time you take your dose XD

Other things that affect your mood is of course, your own hormones. The human body runs on hormones, and our body having gone through invasive surgery like top surgery will of course put your body in overdrive to repair broken connections, and to do that, it releases hormones. Which, in addition to reaction chemically inside you for healing purposes, also are the things that literally control your emotions.

This, in combination with the medication you've been prescribed, and the medication you've had to delay taking, can have a major impact on your mood and mental health. It doesn't necessarily mean you regret getting top surgery (you would know if you did)

But it can manifest in fluctuating mood, how you respond to emotional or psychological stimuli, dreams, nightmares, and how subconscious fears may manifest in them and the occasional intrusive thought. Also you will probably cry. And probably a lot. Over stupid shit too.

Things I've cried over in the past 2 weeks.

Typing "things I've cried over in the past 2 weeks"

A 5 second clip of futurama

A 15 minute excerpt from a 3 hr video essay of a gay furry dating Sim I have literally never heard of or played.

Talking about crying or what I've cried about so far, even when no emotions are attached.

Thanking a person for talking to me.

A good hug

The fact I can't watch Jimmy Neutron Boy Genius.

A video essay about Wizards of Waverly Place.

A donut

That my brother helped me get cheerios down from the pantry because I can't reach that high right now.

My sister getting me curry

Curry in general (tearing up typing it right now)

Getting top surgery

As you can see, a lot of those are just weird shit to sob over for a solid 5-45 minutes.

I've also had a bunch of super weird dreams, and the biggest cause of that (aside from drugs and healing) is sleeping position and pre-existing conditions.

I have sleep paralysis, it's a chronic condition triggered by sleeping on my back, and unfortunately, when healing from top surgery, you have no choice but to sleep on your back for at least two weeks :D

So that's a thing to be wary of, if you deal with that.

Okay, that's all I got in terms of stuff that I haven't ever seen people talk about or even mention in regards to top surgery. So yeah.

Oh also, I have 2 (lightly used) GC2B tank binders to give away. One is trans pride colors, the other is a olive green. Size XL (ideal for folks with at least 38 C cup size) so if anyone is interested dm me :)

#transgender #trans ftm #ftm #trans pride #trans guys #trans masc #nonbinary #top surgery recovery #top surgery 👌#top surgery tips

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honeybcj · 1 month

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HAN HAN HAN HAN HAN

Karkarosier. oh my fucking god. I’ve been thinking about them all day omg you genius <3

Also the danse macabre mention got me excited, please feel free to ramble, mumble, rant about this or anything else about this ship please 🙏

Thank you for indoctrinating me bb xx

KARKAROSIER!!!! you’ve genuinely got me so excited, and yes, i’m convinced to rant on about danse macabre, so buckle your seatbelts and let’s go on a ride (bring any snacks you want, this might get long)

what sticks out to me most: “no one escapes the dance of death”

this is extremely important in the case of evan’s character. when i look at it, i have this feeling deep in my gut that he anticipated his death. he felt it in his bones. he could smell it before it even happened. as someone who spent most of their life fascinated by death, pain, and gore-induced madness, i think evan connected with Death in ways that others may not have thought. it’s not that he wanted to die, but his death was inevitable (just like everyones), but his untimely death did happen well before it should have. he didn’t fear it, he embraced it. to note, evan flat out refused to admit it out loud to anyone. he couldn’t bear the weight of telling others that he would, in fact, die.

i feel like evan is often portrayed as very cold and cadaverous, but to those around him, he unleashes this intense warmth. a possessive kind of “you’re mine, and i’m yours. we are unmovable.” his love is shown in the details, and by keeping that crucial piece of information to himself, he feels like he ultimately saved everyone an immense amount of despair. on the flip side of things, in the eyes of others, they view evan’s death like this tragedy. like his destiny wasn’t to die young, and it is just an unfortunate circumstance. because even those who cause harm and inflict pain and thrive in the hands of death, they too experience suffering, guilt, anger, impossible anguish. they too sob and scream and choke on their own breath. and at the end of the day, one thing remains constant: death equalizes us all. and in evan’s death, he is just like everyone else, but in life, in the land of the living, his memory is put on a pedestal, specifically by karkaroff (and barty too, but for all intents and purposes, i will keep it strictly to karkaroff).

after evan’s death, karkaroff quite literally dances towards death. it’s a terrifying means of coping with the suffering. but he wants to taste death, needs it to heal what he’s been stripped of. almost, if you’d like to take it that far, there was a soul tie between the two of them. when evan’s soul stopped calling out, karkaroff didn’t go off the deep end. he just went quiet. he held onto his love for the dark arts, continued to study it and even in his days of being trapped alone, he pushed on with the memory of evan. so when, in canon, he says “evan rosier” there’s a small part of him that hopes, desperately so, that it was all some sort of nightmare and he isn’t actually dead. karkaroff deeply believes the person should have been barty. so when he finally gets to say “barty crouch…junior”, the relief he feels is immeasurable, yet he still remains a coward. he can’t face it any longer. he tries, so fucking hard, to push through, but it’s not the same. not without evan.

here’s the thing: they were literally death eaters. surrounded by death, embracing death. because that’s all there was to it. they didn’t care about the repercussions. karkaroff only started to care when evan died. he couldn’t keep doing it, but their relationship, whatever it may have been, revolved solely around the complexities and intricacies of death and the morbid curiosities of life. at this point, karkaroff chases Death, but Death says “not yet. it’s not your time.” again, instead of breaking and losing his will fully, he keeps on existing, but as nothing more than a coward, living to try and appease a younger, more innocent version of himself. the same young boy that would find comfort in the cold nights traipsing through the woods or collecting bits and pieces of the world around him to study and explore.

i do, truly, feel compelled to keep going on about these two, but i will stop there because i don’t want to bore anyone (like who is even gonna sit there and read all that????) anywho! that’s what i have to say about it!!!! MWAH MWAH MWAH

#han’s asks #royal tag #karkarosier

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nosleepjustlevi · 1 year

Text

Levi x Reader

A tad angst but ultimately comfort. About 600 words. TW talk about death

You and Levi have been crushing on each other for a while now, which is hard for you to admit and even harder for him. You’ve never explicitly spoken about it. But the way you protect each other on expeditions, the way you watch each others backs and even the way you extend help and comfort to each other after a long expedition all speak to how much you care for each other. These actions really speak louder than words. Which is great because Levi isn’t so good with words when it comes to revealing romantic feelings and neither are you. Romance is largely uncharted territory for the both of you.

It’s been a particularly grueling day. Not because you were met with any titans, but because you had spent all day training and learning to prepare for the next battle that was sure to come. And this sureness, this undeniable fate of fighting and watching your comrades die, this was the grueling part. Sometimes it was just too much weight to bare alone.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” You admit when you are alone with Levi in his office. You are helping him organize paperwork and details of the expedition to come. As one of the best members on the squad, Levi trusts you implicitly.

Levi pulls his eyes away from his work for a moment to look up at you. His eyebrows are slightly pinched together as if to ask what do you mean?

You sigh and drop the collection of papers you are holding. “We train and train for battles we know we’re gonna have to fight and every time I just wonder, whose it gonna be?” You turn to face Levi who is now giving you his full attention. He has turned his body in his chair to face you. “Whose it gonna be next, you know? I know that’s a horrible thing to think, but it’s like, I want to prepare myself for the inevitable loss of someone else I know. Or maybe it’s just morbid curiosity.” Your speech is quickening, thoughts are pouring seamlessly out of your mouth. “And everyday this horrible thought pops into my head and I find myself hoping its someone else instead of Sasha or Connie or Jean or—“ Your eyes land on Levi. Water is beginning to gather at the brim of your eyes. Levi looks at you sympathetically, no, empathetically, he knows where you’re coming from.

“Don’t look at me like that!” You yell at him. You hate when people looked at you with anything that resembles pity. “I’m not sad okay,” a couple loose tears fall from your eyes, “It’s not because I’m sad it’s because I’m angry!”

Levi merely nods his head. He stands from his chair and begins to walk towards you.

“Why? You know? I just— I don’t— I can’t keep—“ The tears have really started to pour now. Levi’s grey eyes are soft as he approaches you. He gently puts his hand on your shoulder and pulls you towards him, embracing in you in a tight hug. You sigh into his shoulder and on the in-breath, you breathe in his smell. Clean laundry and musky pine and stale black tea. He smells like comfort. He smells safe.

“Levi,” you start, “I don’t want to lose you too.” You mumble into his neck. Your whole body is rigid. You’ve just taken the first step. The step that breaks the silence of whatever feelings you and Levi have for each other. There’s no going back now. The very words you just spoke may be what makes you lose him.

“I know,” Levi speaks into your hair. His arms tighten around you and he presses your body harder against his. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

There it is. The truth. Finally said out loud between the two of you. It’s terrifying and relieving all at once.

You follow Levi’s lead and wrap your arms around him tighter too. You take up a fistful of his shirt in one hand while your other hand finds it way to the back of his neck where you thumb his undercut. Levi’s strong hands squeeze your body, one of them laid flat between your shoulder blades, pressing you against him, and the other gripping your waist. You both sigh.

You stand like this for a while. Just holding onto each other. This contact, this needy embrace seals it. You like each other, maybe even love each other but that’s a scary word to use right now with all the chaos that regularly erupts around you. Things won’t be the same after this hug. Because now you’ve both admitted it. You’re romantic feelings for each other are finally out in the air. What will happen now?

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi fanfiction #snk levi #levi x y/n #attack on titan #levi aot #levi attack on titan #captain levi #levi drabble #my writing #Levi comfort #Levi fluff #levi angst

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tennessoui · 1 year

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pbatmb anakin telling obi-wan “i’m not wearing that” for the four word prompts please!

so this is pbatmb anakin saying "i'm not wearing that".

but not to obi-wan.

(1.2k) (warnings: general pbatmb warnings apply? vaguely fluffy sorta disturbing, a few uses of daddy but not in a serious way)

There’s a thunk on the other side of the door. It could be either Cody’s fist or his head.

Anakin doesn’t particularly care. He stares directly opposite him, drawing his legs closer to his chest as he shifts on the marble floor.

“Skywalker, come on,” the man says, sounding impatient. Anakin sneers. “We’re going to be late.”

“Fuck you,” Anakin says, resting his chin on his knees.

“We’re going to be late and your fiance is going to think you’re getting cold feet and planning to leave him at the altar and he’s going to make it everyone’s fucking problem in the entire goddamn city. Including me.”

Anakin narrows his eyes, considering the words. He’s not—he doesn’t want Obi-Wan to think he’s running out on him. He’s in his suit, light gray with a golden pattern swirling through the fabric, pristine white shirt and tie, lingerie beneath it all. He’s washed and plucked and styled, and he’s ready to marry Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He is absolutely not ready to leave their shared bathroom in their loft to go to whatever venue Obi-Wan has booked for their ceremony and then their reception. And that has nothing to do with his soon-to-be husband.

And everything to do with his husband’s brother, currently thumping his fist—or head, and Anakin prefers that mental picture—against the locked door to the—to the tune of…

He’s on his feet and unlocking the door in a fit of pique. “Is that really fucking ‘Here Comes The Bride’, you fuc—”

Cody’s fist, raised and pulled back for another knock, doesn’t stop.

Not until it makes contact with Anakin’s eye.

The pain is secondary to the fucking shock. “Holy shit,” he says.

To his credit, Cody doesn’t look as celebratory as Anakin’s always thought he’d look after laying a punch on Anakin.

He actually looks pretty fucking terrified. “Fuck,” he says succinctly. “Obi-Wan’s gonna kill me.”

“Yeah,” Anakin agrees, turning around to look in the mirror behind him. “Holy shit, Fett. I’m bleeding. You made me bleed on my wedding day.”

“Quick,” Cody says. “Display the bedsheets.”

Anakin leans over the sink and prods at the red skin beneath his eye in morbid curiosity, pushing extra hard over the small cut left behind by Cody’s ring. “Oh, dead man walking’s got jokes. Tell that one to Obi-Wan, I think he’d love the implication another man took my virginity. On our wedding day.”

Cody’s glare could level a city. “Now you have to wear this.”

“I’m not wearing that,” Anakin shoots him a look in the mirror. “I wasn’t going to let you tie a blindfold on me before and now that you’ve punched me in the face, not sure I’m trusting you more.”

“Yeah, well. Before you were going to put this on because your fiance requested that you’re led to the venue blindfolded—ostensibly so it’s all a surprise, but if you ask me, he doesn’t think you can run as fast without your eyes—and now you’re going to wear it so Obi-Wan doesn’t see the shiner you’ll be sprouting in a few hours.”

“You think I’m going to wear a blindfold my entire wedding?” Anakin asks, laughter bursting out of him. “You think I’m getting married to someone as hot as Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I’m not going to look at him? Fuck, Fett, if I thought it’d work, I’d tear out everyone else’s eyes so I could look at him through them as well.”

“You say the most disturbing things like they’re something to be proud about,” Fett says, a bit like it’s a miracle.

“Like you’ve never torn out a man’s eyes,” Anakin rolls his own and prods at his cheek again.

“Yeah, well, at least I’m sane enough to understand they’re pretty fucking useless outside of the skull,” Cody leans against the doorway with a sneer.

Anakin sneers back. “Daddy, look what Cody did to my face, Daddy. Daddy, it hurt and I cried it hurt so bad. Daddy, did you hear that? I gave tears that should have been yours to Cody instead.”

Cody starts forward automatically, eyes narrowing. Anakin smirks at him.

“Just practicing, Cody,” he smiles. “In case it comes up.”

“You dirty fucking liar.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Is that news to you?”

“Skywalker, wear it.”

“Fett, no.”

“Skywalker.”

“Fett.”

“Skywalker.”

“Fett.”

There’s a vein pulsing in Cody’s forehead. It’s the prettiest thing about him.

“Skywalker. I’m putting this blindfold on you. And you’re going to fucking consent to it because it’s what Obi-Wan fucking wants from you. And me. And it’s my brother’s fucking wedding day and honestly, I was really hoping we’d never fucking get here, but fuck if life’s been that nice to me, ever. Even once. And when I go to sleep, the idea of leaving you on the side of the road in a soggy cardboard box like a stray cat in a fucking hurricane is literally my happy place. Add a few bullets in your most annoying bits, it’s practically heaven, alright, so please don’t think I care about your wedding day, but fuck you if you think I don’t give a fuck about his.”

It may be the most Cody’s ever spoken to him in one go.

He narrows his eyes and weighs his options.

“Fine,” he says.

“Fuck yo—wait. What?”

“Fine,” Anakin turns to face him with a shrug. “I might never trust you not to punch me in the face given half a chance—” he gestures to his eye. “But Obi-Wan wouldn’t trust me with just anyone. Especially blindfolded. So. If I’m marrying into his mob and his multiple properties and his family, I guess. I guess I’m marrying into his trust in you.”

Cody’s eyes narrow. “What else.”

Anakin shrugs again and grins. “And I can’t wait to hear you try to convince Obi-Wan Kenobi to last the whole wedding ceremony—to me—without demanding to see my eyes.”

Cody’s face freezes, fabric of the blindfold stretched between his fingers.

Feeling very obliging all of a sudden, Anakin leans forward to press his face into the silk. “But Cody, you have to know that if my daddy asks me to do something—like, I don’t know, show him my eyes during our wedding ceremony—I will.”

Cody grimaces. Anakin smiles.

—--------

“Thank you, Cody,” Obi-Wan murmurs as Fett guides Anakin to a stop in front of him. “I’ll take him from here.”

“I think I’m just realizing you made me walk him down the aisle,” Cody hisses. "Kenobi, it fucking looks like I'm giving him away."

“It’s not as if he has a father to do it,” Obi-Wan points out, hands wrapping around Anakin’s, strong and sure and achingly familiar. “Thank you for your service.”

“I thought you wanted the venue to be a surprise,” Fett sounds furious.

Anakin beams. “I’ve known it’s going to be in the club for ages. Who do you think suggested the venue? Ceremony and reception in one place with our bed a few floors away? Come on, use your brain, Cody.”

“Don’t make me punch you again,” Cody mutters as he takes a step back.

Obi-Wan’s tone changes like a light flickering off. “Again?”

“Yeah,” Cody huffs. “Did I fucking stutter?”

#asks #obikin #pbatmb #this was gonna be set during vowbreaker #and it was gonna be cody trying to convince anakin to get ready for the funeral #sort of like the idea of a scene in vowbreaker where it's this but cut in with them doing this for the funeral #but anyway this is borderline fluff compared to that huh #alternate ending: cody tells obi-wan they got jumped on their way there #as if they didnt just take the elevator #and obi-wan is so hyped up and nervous about the wedding he forgets they just took the elevator #and hes like who did this #and cody names some other mob boss #and starts a mob war so he doesn't have to admit he fucked up and accidentally punched anakin #once again cody is my favorite person to write in pbatmb #but yah ths was fun because i was picking at vowbreaker earlier today :D

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