The Mother Of The Ocean

Five years has gone by since Aquaman was unfortunately bitchslapped by the momma whale for defending her calves, one being adopted baby mer.

And the sighting of the little merman continued throughout the world, as media caught wind breeze of little white-haired mer baby playing with dolphins passing by a Cruise ship.

Arguments had started over the lone mer baby across the continents, between capturing and captivity the merbaby, letting the merbaby be, or protecting the merbaby from poachers and collectors that was suggested by PETA.

Aquaman has already discussed on behalf of the Sea and Justice League that it was best for the merbaby to be left alone for it is last of its kind to appear in thousands of years in Altanta after the Momma whale crashed sixth would be poachers and endangered species ships.

Pictures, description, and documentary began of the last merbaby journey. A new video was sent live every few weeks as sea creature biologists team and their swimmers who trail behind momma whale and her calves.

Momma whales, leaving her calves for their own harsh journey in the deep blue sea, the once tiny merbaby was the size a double wide life boat.

The once beautiful trails of sparkling white and neon green color, fade gray, and black tips mer tailwind was now deep black with green and blue bioluminescence lighting all over his tail trailing from the faded jellyfish scars, His skin was once pale is now dark tanned color. His white as a pearl hair was measured by a picture frame to be the length of 12 inches with clownfishes swimming in and out every once a as a symbiote reaction, eyes glowing darker then a neon green light and teeth sharper then a great white shark.

It was a simple Tuesday of the Justice League watching the latest video of was now known to the world nicknamed the adolescent mer, phantoms the merman day.

When something that caused everyone to jump from their own seats all together that shook and amazed the world

Phantom kept dipping into the deep dark trenches of the deep blue sea rather frequently, but for the five years now, it was normal interest of curiosity that he just like to go there.

Until today, when he came out, with 5 other Mers.

One massive mer with white hair that resemble a great whale shark or what could've been a megalodon swam slowly watching the others who there was female sea horse like mer with black hair and purple and green like patterns trail behind along side a silky like dark skinned shark mer with Egyptian like pattern and old gold relic tied in his hair, massive large orange haired humaniod jellyfish like mer the size of a sperms whale swam, as Phantom was hugging, swimming around excitedly and trilling bubbles onto a tiny little new merbaby with white hair with similar patterns as him except with a red scarf like tied to her little wrist.

Original first part here <-

Chubby reader x monster!141…. Chubby reader where you are at all-time-low after your ex cheated on you with the woman you had always been insecure of (she was everything you were not), so now you are just done. Done with him, with her, with your terrible work that forced you to come in even while sick, done with life.

So you go to a bar, and intend to fully drink yourself and all your sorrows away. You don’t even care enough to ask any friends to accompany you- they knew. They fucking knew. Calling them friends anymore is just stupid- and you don’t care enough to look around at anyone; you know you aren’t anyone’s preference either.

When a man, big and burly, curling horns and two big ass wings (maybe one of those dragon shifters? You know harpies have feathers, but the rest of your brain is too muddled) sits down next to you, you just ignore him and continue nursing your drink, trying your best to bite back the tears in your eyes.

“That’s enough now, love,” he croons, and much to your confusion, he takes the glass away from you. His voice is rough and rumbling, like thunder. Too hazy, too drunk, you don’t even care enough to get angry at him. No, your eyes fill with tears instead. “No, no, calm down. Let’s get you out of here, alright, little love?”

Another man joins your other side, just as big and burly but shorter than the dragon man who is making you tear up by holding your drink, your source of solace tonight, hostage in his hand. This one is a werewolf, his ears flicking in your direction much like his grin and his tail eagerly thumping to and fro against your chair.

“Sweet lass,” he croons, your teary eyes flicking towards him. You can see his hands clench in the air. Why, why, why- you just wanted to drink away. They are both so handsome, such a shame they clearly don’t like you and are just bothering you for the sake of bothering you, a fat woman in a miserable corner. “Enough tears and enough alcohol, aye, hen? Yer aff yer heid!”

His words are so strange, your tears momentarily pause. “What…?” You wonder outloud, shivering when you feel a warm breath across your neck, warming your skin. The dragon. His hand settles on your lower back, nudging you to get off the chair with them, and you feel like crying again. He probably can feel all the fat there, how horrible-

“Careful there, little love.” Dragon steadies you with two hands when you get dizzy, and with weak hands you try to swat at him, try to move away, but the werewolf is at your other side and keeping you pressed between them.

“S’op… stop callin’ me that,” you mumble. The tears roll down then. “Not- not funny, not at all-“

Two other hands on your back, a tail thumping against the back of your thighs, you are still led outside even as you babble about everything. Your size, your ex, the one your ex cheated, your work, your ex-

You want your damn drink back.

For their part, Price and Johnny didn’t think coming out for a drink tonight would lead to finding their last soulmate. The second they had entered the dinky bar, John had expected to need to puff out a deep, smoky breath to keep his nose clean from all the overwhelming smells and Johnny had prepared to to keep his nose happily pressed into John’s skin.

They hadn’t expected to smell you, something like the smell of stepping into a warm home after spending time out in winter, something like watching soft, golden sunlight stream into the nest room on a morning they spend sleeping in with Kyle and Simon. Like soulmate, like the last link of John’s hoarde and Johnny’s pack, and he has no doubt that you are Kyle’s nest and Simon’s. Simply his. A part of him just as you are a part of them.

Driven so wholly by instincts, seeing you drunk and crying pushing them even more into said instincts, they easily you herd along with them, back to their home. All explanations, everything else can wait until tomorrow. You are so soft to the touch, all tender and squishy, they already think you so perfect. In the back of the car, it doesn’t take seconds before you are dozing off and dead to the world, already so trusting.

By tomorrow morning, Simon would be easily able to track down where you live and get all your items. And also find that shitty ex of yours. John hasn’t yet decided if he wants to thank or beat him.

Watching the way Johnny holds you in his lap from the rearview mirror while he drives, hands squeezing your lovehandles with a low groan, mumbling about how much he already adores you, soft bonnie hen, all theirs- John decides he doesn’t give a single fuck about your ex at the moment. He needs to hold you between his arms and wings, in the comfort of his nest.

Fuck, he might end up breaking more than just a few speed limits.

Imagine being Ruggie sister who somehow got in to night raven as a student and everything progress on and them as a Ramshackle perfect due to them being a kind person like Tanjiro and strong yet but of a nerd liked Deku with a unique magic of growing plants

What's more she a home maker due to them living in the slums ( like meding clothes, cooking, fixing things as she can, using home remedies when sick and help their bother with the kids at home ) with Ruggie and too working hard to get out of there as they wanted to be a doctor

Let's say due to their genuine kindness Leona, Malleus, Idia, Jamal, Carter and Riddle have a unhealthy obsession crush with Ruggie sister who doesn't share the same romantic feeling and only sees them as a friend

Ruggie's Little Sister Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Perfectly built for Ramshackle, you happily take to it despite your brother’s insistence you stay next to him in Savvannaclaw. But you’ve never been one to listen to your big brother and you can definitely handle it. You probably fare better than the original in terms of dealing with Night Raven. Because you know how to sweet up boys with mean attitudes, maybe a little too well:

Leona Kingscholar

“Look herbivore, don’t try to boss me-”

“Who’re you calling herbivore!? I’m talking to you, about this lazy cat behavior!”

“Lazy cat-”

“(Y/n) please–”

“No Ruggie, you baby him far too much! I’m stepping in!”

He at first really hates you

Like really 

You do all the things Ruggie does just not for him

In fact you make him do things that make him tired

It’s a pain 

But for whatever reason he’s getting especially happy when you praise him

Only for you 

He’s violent with anyone who comments on the work you have him doing

Its the only reason he keeps in your good graces and thats enough for him

“I’m proud of you, Leona! Now come I’ve cooked up some fillet mignon and it has your name on it!”

“It better. I’m never doing my own laundry again.”

“Hahaha yes you will.”

Ruggie is nervous about this but appreciates you picking up the slack

It sometimes bothers him how much time his employer starts spending with you

But he’s not too worried Leona understands his desire to protect you

“Huh?! You got him to do that?! What should I expect, you are my little sister.”

“Don’t act like I’m not the cooler one of us two.”

Malleus Draconia 

“Ah horn-dude, I was just looking for you.”

“Horn-dude? And you were looking for me?”

“Yeah I was thinking of adding some gardenias, and maybe some vines for decoration. I wanted your opinion since you like coming by here so often.”

“The vines would pertain to a more beautifully abandoned image…but that might just be my preference.”

“Oh thanks so much, Horns!”

His crush is so obvious 

Talking about you often to his guards and mentor

And whenever anyone goes to talk to him he finds some odd way to incorporate you into the conversation 

Trust me its weird for everyone when he starts talking about you during potions when their dissecting magical creatures

he can’t stop trying to talk to you

But he usually ends up just staring at you from the distance

Waiting until your instincts pick up on his presence

And your forced to invite him to join whatever your doing

“Ah! Horns didn’t see you over there! Do you want in? We’re making paper flowers for the festival want to join?”

“I would love to!” 

“What?! Horns?! (Y/n) why are you lettinghimjoin giving him more paper!? I know what I’m doing!” 

“Sure you do.”

Ruggie’s scared out of his mind 

How did you get mixed up with this overpowered monster

He can’t do too much now without knowing he’s going to die

But if it means saving you from certain doom aka Malleus Draconia it might be worth it

Idia Shroud

“Alright that’s enough!”

“W-what?!”  

“No more games before you finish cleaning your room! Ortho and I can help but–”

“Actually (Y/n)-san, I recently pulled up a study that states letting children clean their own rules helps instill better habits when their adults!”

“Ortho!?”

“Oh great idea! Well we’ll be just outside! Come on Ortho let’s plan out our cosplay!”

“Yes!”

“G-guys?!”

He hates that you mother him

But he absolutely loves it when you mother him

He cries about being in the dreaded friendzone kidzone

But boy does he love the way you pat his head or let him cuddle into your chest

He loves the food you make during marathons

Or how you’ll let yourself be distracted by the games you really like

He gets drastic if you spend too long out of his reach

So he sets up cameras+ 

So he takes any opportunity to speak with you

So he puts others in horrifying accidents

“Heeheh by the time I’m done you’ll be the best girl-gamer in the space. And then it’ll be a given for you to never leave the ultimate guy-gamer!” 

“Ewww keep my sister out of your nerd schemes!” 

“Eeep! An enemy has appeared!”

Ruggie thinks he’s a nerd with no game

But nonetheless he knows Idia’s smart but not street smart

“Hishishsishi can’t set the trap if you don’t have the button! Hardly even noticed me swiping his gadget.” 

Jamil Viper 

“I appreciate the help, (Y/n).”

“Of course, you’re always running yourself ragged…I wanted to do something for you.”

“...I really appreciate the lunches you’ve made for me…it’s been a while since I’ve eaten a meal by someone else.” “Well just give me a call I don’t mind cooking for you or lending a hand.”

He’s smitten nbyond comprehension

Now going out of his way to hypnotize anyone else into a corner when it comes to talking to you

Its the least he does out of retaliation

He knows all his flirting and hints go right over your head

But your still cute 

Until you do get it he’s pulling the rug out from any and all competitors

“Hey (Y/n), why don’t you join me in the kitchen? Maybe, show me how you made those potato crisps?”

“Sure, Jamil I’d love to!”

“Ah ah! Not without me you’re not!”

Ruggie knows Jamil’s like him but smarter

Sly and sneaky

Powers aside Ruggie’s sure Jamil’s problematic for your safety

“Don’t think for a second, I’ll let you have them! I'm not that fond of snakes!”

Carter Diamond 

“Wah~(Y/n) you’re so photogenic! Will you pose for me one more time?”

“Well alright. If it’ll make you happy.”

“It’ll make me more than happy!” He loves how oblivious you are 

He absolutely hates it+

But your just so cute 

He guesses he can forgive it 

And hey while your learning the ropes he’s more than happy to keep you close

“Hey hey don’t forget to keep up our streak!”

“Streak?”

“Yeah we’ve been sharing our photos throughout the day of what we’re doing.”

“Yup! It’s a great way to keep track of her!”

“Ick-!”

Ruggie knows he’s slippery

When it comes to tailing him Cater’s good at giving the slip

“Not on my watch. I’m not giving you the chance, to trick my baby sister.”

Riddle Rosehearts

“That’s entirely unreasonable, I’m not doing that!”

“Grrr (Y/n) these are the rules I thought you would respect that.”

“And I thought you would know to relax!”

He thinks your sweet but totally unreasonable

So he guesses you both have something to learn from each other

You more than him obviously

While he doesn’t think highly of your brother he knows your different

And you belong to him

He’s not going to take ‘no’ for an answer

If this is a battle of wills he’d win it

Even if that means subjecting your bad influences to being beheaded

“Riddle! You can't just put that collar on my brother like that!”

“Yeah I’m not even apart of your dorm!”

“Don’t be mad at me for enforcing rules. I know you know the very least of the rules. It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise that your brother just doesn’t measure up. Which means you should leave him before he drags you down.”

Ruggie is peeved that such a prick is after his sister

But he’s not worried 

He’s definitely not cool enough to keep your attention

Not to mention he’s so easy to anger 

It’ll be fun to rile him up

“Hishishishi so mad oh so fast! You’ll barely survive dating them if your this easy.”

"The moon"

ok ya'll! I know I said I'm doing another chapter of this is me trying (and I am) buttttt I read @i-cant-sing's time traveler AU and I could not stop thinking about it. I'm muslim and it's Ramadan and I realized I have free will to write whatever I want, SO i present to you a platonic yandere story set in the Ottoman Empire. kinda based on real people and events, but a lot of things are just my imagination! I am NOT a history buff, I just enjoy historical things, if something is wrong, feel free to politely correct me. The main character is a female and does have a name (Esmira) and face type BUT i try not to go into her too much so you can imagine what you like. Credits to @i-cant-sing, it was their writing that inspired me! check out their works, they're really talented! I DO NOT SPEAK TURKISH, ALL MY KNOWLEDGE IS GOOGLED AND SURFACE LEVEL.

Ottoman Empire, Constantinople

Year 1524

I was my father’s moon.

"Benim ayım."

He called me that when I nestled against his side, his arms encircling me as he listened to my childish recitation of the Qur’an, my voice small yet steady. “My little moon,” he would murmur, pressing a kiss to my forehead when I finished. “No one recites as beautifully as my Esmira.”

To me, he was not Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent. The Lawgiver, the formidable warlord. To me, he was my beloved Baba.

I would giggle, curling my fingers into the folds of his kaftan. I never sat apart from him, never kept a polite distance. When we dined, I ate off his plate, tearing bread from his own hands, dipping it into his soup the way I had since I was old enough to chew.

"You will spoil her, Hünkârım," my mother, Medriveh, would say from across the room, watching as my father lifted me onto his lap, letting me pick the ripest dates from his tray.

"She is already spoiled," he would reply, laughter deep in his chest. And he would not send me away. He never sent me away.

I prayed with him, every dawn and every dusk, my small voice whispering after his as we kneeled on the prayer rugs. When my hands trembled in the cold, he would clasp them in his own, warming them against his palms.

"When you are older, you will have a place beside me," he had told me once, his thumb tracing circles over my knuckles. "Even when I go to war, my moon will stay in my sky."

I believed him.

When he rode through the palace gates on his great black stallion, I was the only one out of my siblings- Mustafa, Selmin, Mehmed, and Layla- he lifted onto the saddle before him. I would press my cheek to his chest, feeling his laughter rumble beneath my ear as he held the reins in one hand, keeping me close with the other.

I thought it would always be like that. I thought nothing could take me from him.

I was wrong.

My mother never hit me.

She did not need to.

Her weapons were sharper than any blade, her words precise and cruel, cutting deep where no one could see.

"You embarrass me, Esmira," she would sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose whenever I stumbled in my lessons or tripped over my skirts. "Must you always follow your brothers like a stray dog? They have no use for you."

"I just want to be with them."

"They do not want to be with you."

Her disappointment weighed heavier than any slap.

I had always adored Mustafa, Selmin, and Mehmed. I ran after them in the gardens, trailed them through the halls, sat at their feet as they practiced swordplay.

I wanted to be part of their world, to belong with them as I had once belonged with my father.

But they were always too fast, too sharp, too indifferent.

"Go away, Esmira." Selmin’s voice was rough, barely sparing me a glance as he wiped sweat from his brow, his sword resting against his shoulder. "We are not playing games."

"I can learn too!"

"You are not a soldier." Mustafa did not even look at me, already turning back to his sparring partner. "You are not even useful."

Mehmed was the only one who pretended to care, giving me his easy, careless smile.

"Little sister, you should be with the women," he said, flicking my forehead with two fingers. "We are busy."

"I just want to be near you."

"Then sit quietly. Do not make a fuss."

So I did. I sat in the dirt, in the sun, in the cold. I waited for them to acknowledge me.

They never did.

Layla was everything I was not. Four years older than me, and stunning. The true daughter of a Sultan

She was graceful where I was clumsy, beautiful where I was plain, loved where I was ignored.

"Your sister was never like this," my mother would say as she brushed my hair, her touch firm and impersonal. "She knew how to behave, how to walk, how to be wanted."

Layla was desired by all who saw her. Even the women in the harem whispered about her, about her elegance, her cruelty, her charm.

"You are fat, Esmira," she told me one afternoon, watching as I struggled to fit into the new silk kaftan our mother had gifted me. "And slow. And foolish."

"You are my sister," I whispered. "You should love me."

She only smiled.

"Love is earned, little one. And you have done nothing to earn it."

Then, one day, a week after my eleventh birthday everything changed. I was going to my father, to try and capture his attention again when I heard her. My mother.

"She is useless, Hünkârım. If you will not marry her off, then send her away."

I pressed my back against the lattice screen, breath trapped in my chest. I was too young to marry. Baba always said he would wait till I was eighteen. That he would keep me forever if I wanted.

"To where?" He replied sharply.

"To the Greeks," my mother said smoothly, as if my fate was nothing more than a chess piece being moved across the board. "The Basileus of Morea wishes for an Ottoman princess as a ward. A peace offering."

"She is only a child, Mehdrivan."

"She is a disgrace."

Silence. A silence so deep it felt like the air itself had stopped moving.

Then, finally, the words that destroyed me.

"Fine."

The world blurred around me. My heart slammed against my ribs, a desperate, caged thing trying to claw its way out. I waited till my mother had left, till i could no longer hear her cruelty.

No. No, no, no.

I did not think. I ran.

Baba

I burst into my father’s chamber, barefoot, breathless, trembling.

He stood near the window, his hands clasped behind his back, gazing down at the courtyard below. The glow of the setting sun burned against his silhouette, making him seem even larger, more untouchable.

I was eight again, running to him after falling in the gardens, scraped knees and teary eyes, knowing he would pick me up, soothe me, call me his moon.

But I was not eight. And he did not turn.

"Baba!" I cried, voice breaking.

Slowly, he turned to me.

For a moment, just a moment, his face softened. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by the unreadable mask of a ruler, not a father.

"Esmira," he said, his voice even, measured. Distant.

I did not hesitate—I threw myself at his feet.

"Baba, please!" I clutched at the hem of his kaftan, my nails digging into the silk as if I could physically hold myself to him. "I will be good—I will do better! I don’t want to go! I don’t know their language, their God—they will kill me! Let me stay! I love you, Baba! I will stay by your side forever!"

His hands curled into fists at his sides.

"Stand up, Esmira."

"No!" I sobbed into the fabric of his robes, shaking my head, pressing my forehead to his knee like a beggar at the steps of a mosque. "Please, please, please, I will do anything! I will stop following my brothers, I will stop embarrassing you, I will be what you want, just don’t send me away!"

Nothing.

Not a touch. Not a word.

I felt his silence like a blade slicing through me.

"I do not care about peace!" I cried, hands fisting against him. "I only care about you!"

Finally, finally, he spoke.

"You must go, Esmira. It is for the good of the empire."

Something deep inside me cracked—so violently I swore I heard it echo in the vast, empty space of the chamber.

I recoiled from him, stumbling back.

"You are my father!" My breath came in ragged, uneven gasps. "I am your daughter! I am not a pawn for your empire!"

He did not move. He did not reach for me.

"You are a princess of the Ottoman Empire." His voice was hard, cold. A warlord’s voice, not a father’s. "You will do your duty."

I shook my head, tears burning like acid down my cheeks.

"If you send me away, I will never love you again."

Something flickered in his eyes.

"Esmira—"

"I swear to God, Baba!" My voice rose in fury, in anguish, in something too deep to name. "I swear by Allah Himself, if you listen to my mother, if you send me away, I will never forgive you! Never! You will not be my father anymore!"

His nostrils flared. His lips pressed into a thin line.

"You will not speak to me that way."

"You are not listening to me!"

I was screaming now, screaming as if the force of my voice alone could bring him back to me.

"I will hate you for the rest of my life!"

And then—he struck me.

The first slap sent me reeling. The second tore the breath from my lungs.

My ears rang. My vision blurred.

I staggered back, stunned, unable to process what had just happened.

He had never hit me before.

Never.

Not once in my entire life.

His sons had felt his hand before—when they disobeyed, when they failed, when they acted recklessly. But not me.

Never me.

I stared up at him, at the man who had once held me in his arms, who had once called me his moon.

I did not recognize him.

He was no longer my Baba—he was Sultan Suleiman, the Great Turk, the Shadow of God on Earth, the warlord who crushed enemies beneath his heel and ruled an empire with an iron fist.

And now, I was afraid of him.

His expression shifted. Regret flickered in his gaze. His hands trembled as he reached for me.

"Esmira—"

I flinched.

I flinched away from him.

For the first time in my life, I feared my own father.

The moment stretched between us, heavy, suffocating.

I saw the realization dawn on him—saw the way his chest rose sharply, saw the way his hands fell to his sides, saw the guilt carve into his face like stone.

But I did not give him the chance to take it back.

I turned and ran.

I did not stop running.

Not when I reached the halls. Not when the guards called after me. Not when my mother’s voice echoed in the distance.

I ran until my lungs burned, until the cold air cut through my thin silk dress, until the world blurred into nothing but streaks of gold and blue and white.

The moon above me was full and bright, casting silver light across the palace gardens.

I pressed my forehead to the earth, fingers digging into the soil.

"I will come back."

The words left my lips like a prayer.

"I swear it."

"And when I do, I will never love you again."

OKKK YA'LL??? WHAT DO YA'LL THINK??? YOU LIKE??? I TRIED SO HARD ON THIS SO PLS BE NICE! I'M KINDA SCARED TO PUT THIS OUT BC ITS NOT MY USUAL CONTENT AND I CHANGED MY WRITING STYLE A BIT, BUT I HOPE IT INTERESTS PEOPLE!! Likes, comments, asks and reblongs are always appreciated, also the platonic yanderes in this story are Sultan Suleiman, Sultana Medrivah, Sehzade Mehmed, Mustafa, and Selmin!

also, yk ur writings good when u got ppl in ur dms and asks telling u its AI. Like bitch please, I spend HOURS thinking of plots and dialougue only to have some random anon saying its AI????? like be fr.

Trial By Combat

Requested By: No one. Original Work.

CW: Mentions of dying, Impostor SAGAU

Summary: After being declared an imposter, you decide to duel to defend your honor rather than stand trial.

Note: Fontaine is amazing. I’m loving every bit of it rn especially Neuvillette, Navia, and Chlorinde.

If you haven’t finished the Fontaine Archon quest, please exit stage left.

Part Two Part Three

-

You never even made it to the Court Of Fontaine before you were confronted by Focalors, the Hydro Archon, of being an imposter of the Creator of Teyvat. In her own eccentric way, she throws accusations at you. ‘To take the face of the Creator is not only a crime in Fontaine but in all of Teyvat!’

You deny her claims but she only laughs, ‘you’re acting ignorant, as if you do not know who the Creator is. Do you have any evidence to prove your innocence?’

You look down, there was no evidence you had that would prove to her and everyone else that this was the face you were born with, or that you never heard of this Creator before.

“The trial of the Century” is what the Steambird called it.

The Opera House was as full as ever, many people wanting to see the verdict the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale would give or wanting to see the one who dared to imitate Their Grace.

Maybe it was out of spite or your own foolishness, but you never allowed the trial to fully begin. Turning to Neuvillette, you declare that you want to duel rather than stand trial.

Despite the protests of Focalors, who wanted to prosecute you, the wish is granted.

The weight of the sword felt unbearable in your clammy hands as you stared at your opponent. Champion Duelist Clorinde stares back nonchalantly, her face not giving any clues on how she felt in this moment. However you heard rumors that she personally requested to duel you.

You readjusted your grip on the hilt as you fix your stance.

Was this truly the correct course of action? To fight and prove your innocence when you know that there’s no way you can win?

No it didn’t matter, you can’t back out now.

The crowd watches eagerly waiting for the duel to begin, how could the people of Fontaine do this? You were a real person and they acted as if you were a character on stage and the play was about to reach it’s final act. The excited looks on their face made your blood boil. If you somehow manage to make it out of this, you would make them pay.

You take one final glance at Furina before the duel commences.

Clorinde wastes no time to strike, using her electro vision, she effortlessly knocks your sword out of your hand and drags her blade down your torso.

Whether her fatal blow was an act of mercy or a warning for anyone else who dared to take the Creators face, the duel was over as soon as it started.

But…

No this couldn’t be right…

Clorinde looks down at her weapon, the golden ichor that dripped onto the floor caused her eyes to widen as she looks at your limp body by her feet.

She immediately drops her weapon as she kneel not caring as the blood began to stain her clothing. Her hands press against your chest to slow the bleeding as she calls out to the crowd.

“We need a doctor!”

A medical team rushes down to your side making haste to attend to your wounds, your vision begins to blur as the mortified looks of Fontaine citizens watch in despair hoping that your life could be saved.

Furina, who sat at the top like always, quickly backs away before anyone could question her. How could she face her people when she was the one who laid these accusations at your feet? How could she face you?

She prays, hoping that an act of mercy could be given to her and her people, how could she call herself an Archon now?

The original publication by the Steambird was quickly scrapped and replaced with “The Creator of Teyvat Falsely Accused of being an Imposter.”

And it didn’t take long for the devastating news to reach the other nations too.

Sorry I had to write a little something for SAGAU Fontaine but now I will return to the requests everyone sent 🏃🏽‍♀️

© avocad1s 2023

“Narcissus does not fall in love with his reflection because it is beautiful, but because it is his.”

Yandere batfam x Yellowjacket!Reader

The last footage of you was a grainy image—mud-streaked cleats, a school bus full of laughter, your jersey half-hanging off your shoulder. Gotham’s elite all-girls soccer team, off to nationals. That was supposed to be it.

You vanished over Canadian wilderness.

A plane crash.

No bodies found.

No signal. No rescue.

For 19 months, you were feral. Hungry. Cold. Hunted. You had blood in your teeth and dirt under your nails, and something in your eyes no mirror dared reflect. You clawed through snowbanks, gnawed on bark, and buried the people you once braided friendship bracelets with.

You loved one of them. She died in your arms. You still hear her scream sometimes when the city gets too quiet.

And the Batfamily?

They didn’t even notice.

They assumed you were on a “long mission” with some obscure Justice League branch. No one checked. No one searched. Not Bruce. Not Dick. Not the detective prodigies, the code-crackers, the Bat-tech masterminds.

You clawed your way back to Gotham on your own, with a body count and a stare like frostbite.

When they see you again, it’s on the news:

“Survivor of Lost Gotham Girls Soccer Team Returns After 19 Months in Wilderness”

Your face is sunken but beautiful in a hollow, terrifying way. A ghost wearing the skin of someone they should’ve protected.

The Batfamily descends like vultures.

Bruce is the first at your hospital bedside—gripping your hand like he didn’t leave you to rot, like he didn’t go to a gala the same week your bones started breaking from frostbite. He calls you his daughter. He says “I failed you.” He tries to cry.

You look at him with dead eyes and say, “Who are you again?”

Jason tries to joke. You used to laugh. Now you just tilt your head. “You’d be dead in a week out there,” you murmur. “They’d eat you first.”

Tim tries to “analyze the trauma” like it’s something to be solved. You stare at him until he leaves the room.

Cass sees the way you flinch when someone closes the door too hard. She doesn’t speak, just watches you move like a predator waiting for the wrong sound to pounce.

Damian’s mad. Not at you, but for you. He wants names. He wants revenge. You just laugh—high and bitter. “There's no one left to punish,” you say. “We handled it ourselves.”

There’s an edge to your voice that makes even him quiet.

Steph and Barbara cry when they see you. You walk past them.

You don’t want comfort.

You want distance.

The real twist?

You don’t want to reconnect. With any of them. Not the girls you survived with—twisted by guilt and secrets—or the family who abandoned you.

But they won’t let go.

The Batfam becomes obsessed. You're the girl they lost, and now they’ll do anything to keep you close again. Even if you no longer smile. Even if you no longer care.

You move into your own apartment. You disappear for hours. Your phone “dies” a lot.

But the shadows have eyes. You know they follow you. You feel the Bat-symbol carved into the back of your neck like a ghost brand. They want you docile. Hugging them. Forgiving them. Letting them own you again.

But they didn’t see what you did. They didn’t feel the crunch of bone in their mouth. They weren’t there when the screaming didn’t stop.

And now they’ll never understand.

A/N: req by @tearsofgreentea

I can so see him spoiling her with expensive gifts.

First oc eurhgeurgheurgh

Warnings? Mentions of violence, prostitution, drugs, uhh yandere behaviors?

I notice that this seems like pineconepie's story and I never intended for that to happen!

implied fem reader but you may ignore it as it is only mentioned once

You were a prostitute, street walker, whore, lady of the night, tramp, the names were endless and you weren't proud of your job..nobody who took part was except the perverted men and women that used your services.

You'd often stay in hotel lobbies during the night if they didn't immediately kick you out. One night, after working for a while you crashed at the Everett hotel, owned by Cedar Everett who apparently was a mafia boss. You couldn't care less, A lobby couch was a lobby couch despite the weird stares from the desk security.

After that night whenever you walked by the desk security always watched you through the window..embarrassing they probably thought you were a weirdo.. Who sleeps in a couch in a lobby? You ignored it most of the time though, too busy to care and too embarrassed to go back to attempt to sleep or try and explain.

a black SUV was parked outside once..very nice car in your humble opinion. The windows so tinted you could barley see through them, though you watched from an alleyway as Cedar Everett climbed out..holy shit! You quickly backed into an alley, not for any reason having to acquaint yourself with the scary man who ran the whole city.

You felt a pair of eyes on you as you walked deeper into the alley, hugging your leather jacket tight and trudging towards another hotel that didn't seem to care if you stayed in the lobby most nights. You looked back and noticed nobody there and shook of the feeling, maybe it was the air.

It'd been two weeks since you'd first seen cedar when things started showing up at hotel room doors if your clients ever got rooms. You were a little confused but the things were nice food, drinks, hair products, not just skimpy pieces of fabric but actual clothing.

Happened every time no matter what hotel you were staying at. You kept them all in a backpack you'd gotten, keeping it close at night to avoid others from stealing your things. Something you'd learned quickly during your first nights.

You'd decided to muscle up and go back to the Everett hotel, it has the nicest couches. You'd slowly walked in as a security guard came up..and oh god were they gonna kick you out? Much to your surprise he handed you a room key "i..have you mistaken me for someone else..?" You asked and he shook his head before stepping back.

Did he feel bad last time..well god that was embarrassing. You slowly walked over to the elevator and punched in the floor number, shifting from foot to foot as you waited and admiring the details of the elevator. Fancy people designed this..not for some street walker like you though.

You stepped out and searched for your room, unlocking it and admiring the sight. This room was huge! You set your bag down carefully and locked the hotel door, running over and collapsing in the cushy bed with a laugh.

Maybe this was the best night of your life in a while. You took some of the food out of your bag after showering and slowly ate some of it, still admiring the room. After a while you felt drowsy, laying down on the bed and falling asleep quickly.

You jolted awake as you heard the door open. You stared in shock at the man who was standing there..Cedar! You slowly crawled back in the bed and stared at the black haired man in a nice blouse and dress pants, diamond stud earrings in his ears and a soft smirk on his face.

"please don't hurt me" you muttered, though loud enough for him to hear apparently as his face turned into a frown. "Oh baby..why would I hurt a little kid?" He asked as he walked closer and you frowned.. Little kid? Excuse him you were a very grown adult.

"Im an adult..I'm literally a prostitute.." You muttered and he frowned even more "A little kid swept into s grown up job..poor thing" he muttered as he walked over and picked you up, not being phased by your flailing.

"it's okay sugar, dads here now" he muttered as he walked out, taking you to the elevator and to the garage for guests, shushing you in the hallways with a "others are sleeping honey, lets be nice" nice your ass this man just kid..abducted you!

He walked over to the same black SUV from weeks ago and climbed in. Well what the hall, your life wasn't gonna get any better but this was definitely making it worse!

Love Me Again

Pairings: Dark!Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: You run into your high school boyfriend Billy at a Christmas party. What started out as a nice reunion quickly turns dark when Billy confesses he still has feelings for you.

Warnings: IMPLIED NON-CON, kidnapping, violence. DO NOT READ IF THESE WILL UPSET YOU. YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONISBILITY.

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Written for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor and @lokislastlove XXXmas Challenge. This is my first dark fic and my first time writing for Billy Russo. Sorry if it sucks!

It includes: "The flames of the artifical fireplace licked at the glass, radiating a layer of hear between the bodies gathered for the seasonal soiree." ; obsessive ex ; "You lied to me. I don't like liars." ; : "I hurt you. You hurt me first!"

_______________________________________

The flames of the artificial fireplace licked at the glass, radiating a layer of heat between the bodies gathered for the seasonal soiree. An old friend from high school, Richelle, had invited you to her house for a holiday party, something she said was a chance to catch up and make up for lost time but really you knew she wanted to rub her success in her former peers’ faces. Her “house”, which was really more of a mansion, was out in the Hamptons. Her husband was handsome and nice but rather bland.

When you first received the invitation, gold cursive embossed on ivory cardstock, you rolled your eyes at her blatant attempt to be flashy but then you decided it was your attempt to show everyone from high school how beautifully you had come into yourself since graduation. Your black dress hugged your curves flatteringly, revealing skin in just the right places without being inappropriate for the occasion. Your lips were painted crimson and your subtle yet classic makeup was upgraded by a modest sheen of glitter to give it that festive pop.

Hors d'oeuvres were arranged on silver and gold platters, decorated with sugared cranberries and rosemary to look like frosted sprigs of pine and berries, as if walking outside into the cold New York snow didn’t provide enough of that ambience. You filled a small plate with various fancy pastries that you couldn’t entirely identify but they smelled delicious regardless before returning to a small group of people you had found, old friends from your favorite club. “Oh my gosh! I remember that!” You laughed, covering your full mouth with your hand while you listened to Marcus’s memory of the time your class teamed up with the security guards to play a prank on your teacher, “Mrs. Smith was so mad after that.”

“Serves her right! She was such a bitch!” Christine defended through her laughs.

You nodded, “She really was! I swear, if you hate kids that much, teach college or something…”

Christine picked up off of Marcus’s story and continued with her own spinoff but you couldn’t be bothered to keep up with her words. The world around you seemed to dull as you locked eyes with those dark brown orbs across the room. A surprised smile of disbelief spread across your face as you saw Billy Russo for the first time in years. His face lit up to match your own as gazes met and you excused yourself to glide over to him.

“Billy! I can’t believe you’re here!” You embraced him tightly, his arms pulling you closer into him and you couldn’t help but notice the expanse of muscle you felt pressed against your body.

He released you and gave you a dazzling grin, “When Richelle sent the invite, I couldn’t refuse. Shit, you look great!” Billy gestured up and down your body and your cheeks burned.

“Me? Look at you!” You waved your hand up and down, from his face that had always been well-structured but now had this sexy maturity to it down to his body that was clad in a tailored suit that accentuated his amazing physique. “How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in forever. My favorite jarhead…”

Billy laughed at your old nickname for him and sipped from his glass of what you assumed to be whiskey, “Well, you know, I was in the marines for a while but since I got out I started a hired arms business, Anvil. I’ve, uh, I’ve been doing good.”

A genuinely proud sigh left your lips, “I’m so glad you’ve been doing well. It sounds like you’ve done good for yourself. You deserve it, Billy.” And you meant it. You were no stranger to Billy’s hard past. You’d spent a good portion of it with him. The two of you had gone to school together for years as class-friends but not really that close, until you started dating when you were seventeen. It had only lasted a year, both of you parting ways after high school, but he had been your first love and you his.

He looked at you with caring eyes and a smirk that could kill. “Thank you,” he nodded, “but enough about me. What about you? Surely you’ve taken over the world by now.”

You shrugged with faux arrogance, “I’m just that good. I overthrew the world and there wasn’t even a hiccup in daily life. No lives lost, no crashing economies. I was meant for world domination.” You giggled and chewed your lip, “No, but, um, really, I’m doing pretty good. I got that job I always talked about when we toge- when we were in high school. I’m living in Brooklyn now and… um, yeah. I think that’s about it for the big stuff.” You chuckled, finding it difficult to find anything interesting about your life.

“Living in Brooklyn with a boyfriend?” Billy pressed casually and you rolled your eyes, waving off the question.

“Oh no! No, still single,” you glanced away with an awkward chuckle before looking back to him, “What about you? Still terrorizing the women of New York with those killer eyes of yours?”

Billy looked away jokingly with a guilt that told you that you were right in your teasing accusations but then he shook his head, “There’s always only ever been one girl for me.”

The air got thick between the two of you as you realized what he meant. “Oh,” you chuckled awkwardly, unsure of how to respond.

“You know, I never stopped loving you,” Billy admitted without reservation.

Your mouth fell open but words failed to follow. What were you supposed to say to that? “You were my first love too,” you attempted to not agree with his sentiments while not entirely blowing them off either but the dark glint in his eyes told you that maybe that wasn’t the right approach.

Billy looked at you like you held the galaxy in your eyes, “My first and only. You know, I was never able to stop thinking about you. The thought of you was the only thing that kept me going when I was over in Afghanistan.”

“I, uh, that’s very flattering, Billy,” you stumbled over your words, nervous by the underlying tone that he expected you to reciprocate. His dark eyes were locked with yours in an invasive terrifying way he’d never looked at you with. Electricity crackled in the air dangerously and you felt an overwhelming urge to leave.

Thankfully, your phone began to buzz in your purse and you held up your finger. “I’m so sorry, I need to take this really quick,” you lied apologetically, looking at the number that was likely spam. Nevertheless, you answered the phone, “Hello? Mhm… Really? Right now,” you sighed, “Okay, yeah, I’ll be right in.”

You gave Billy an apologetic look as you waved your phone in faux annoyance. “I’m so sorry. It’s a 9-1-1 from work. I need to go,” you lied, knowing you had heard nothing but a recorded message about your car’s extended warranty on the other end. You reached for Billy’s hand and squeezed it tightly, “It’s been great seeing you again, Billy. Take care of yourself.”

As you went to walk away, Billy’s hand flipped up to grab your wrist and your blood suddenly ran cold as ice. You stopped in your tracks and turned to look from where his hand gripped tightly around your arm to his eyes that bored into yours dangerously. “You’re a terrible liar,” he said threateningly.

“Billy, let me go,” you demanded, fear making your voice falter just slightly. You tried to rip your hand away but his grip was like iron.

He sighed with feigned regret before twisting your wrist in a way caused an intense pain to shoot through your joint. “Agh!” You hissed and he let off just slightly.

He pressed his body into your side in a way that just looked like you were walking close to each other. “Shhh,” he cooed in your ear, “All I wanted to do is talk but you had to go ahead and lie to me. Now you better act normal or I’m gonna have to snap this pretty little wrist and neither of us want that.” Billy applied pressure again just to prove his point and you winced, knowing damn well that if he pressed any further your bones would surely give.

Billy began to lead you through the crowd of people, smiling at your former classmates as if he wasn’t forcefully leading you towards the door. “You can’t do this,” you mumbled to him but he just shoved your body forward slightly.

You tripped over your heels and he caught you, “Hey!” He chuckled loudly, “I got you.”

A guy you must have gone to school with but couldn’t place a name for glanced over to the two of you, “Hey, Billy! Everything okay?”

Billy just nodded like a good Samaritan, “Yeah, she just had a little too much to drink. I’m gonna drive her home. Make sure she gets there safe.”

Before you knew it, you were out the door and being bitten by the freezing cold. Billy led you to a sleek black car and shoved you inside. The moment the door was shut, you tried to throw it open before Billy could get into the driver’s seat but the moment your feet hit the snow, you heard a gun cocking. When you looked up, you found yourself staring down the end of a barrel. “Stay.” The word was short and simple but enough to invoke more fear than you’d ever felt.

Slowly, you retreated back into the passenger’s seat and Billy slammed the door shut again. This time, you sat quietly for the first several minutes of the drive “Where are we going?” you demanded.

“I wanted to show you my place. It’s pretty nice, y’know,” he said as if he hadn’t just taken you at gunpoint.

Your hands shook, “Take me home.”

“I am. I’m taking you to what could be our home. Just come see what you could have with me,” Billy tried to persuade you but you just felt sick.

“Billy, you just dragged me out of a party and forced me into your car at gunpoint! I don’t want you!” You spat, your eyes brimming with angry, terrified tears.

Billy’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he stared straight ahead at the road, flurries blurring the windshield. “That’s just because you don’t know what you’re missing yet! But don’t worry, you’ll see. You’ll remember what we had. You’ll remember how much you love me.”

The car slowed to a stop inside of a parking garage and Billy led you inside a tall apartment building and up to his nice apartment. Once inside, his demeanor changed and he became more gentle again, guiding you inside before turning around and locking the door - all three locks.

“Y-you have a very nice apartment,” you swallowed hard, “Is that what you wanted to hear, Billy? You have a nice place, a nice car, a nice face. You’ve come so far and I’m really happy for you. Can I please go now?” You pleaded, fear and anger mixing dangerously inside of you.

Billy shrugged his jacket off and tossed it onto the coat hook beside the door. He sauntered towards you while rolling up the cuffs of his white button up, back you into the dining room. Under different circumstances, you would have been impressed with the space but under the current circumstances, you wanted to be anywhere else. “No, no…” Billy shook his head, “You see, I’ve got the job. I’ve got the apartment. I’ve got the money. The only thing I’m missing is you.”

You shook your head, your back coming to hit the wall of his dining room. “This isn’t the way.”

“You wouldn’t listen to me earlier. You lied to me. I don’t like liars. Especially when the girl I love is using excuses to get away from me,” he tutted as if you should be feeling guilty.

Your eyes widened, “And was I wrong?! You kidnapped me!”

Billy shook his head, impressed, “No! You’re smart, aware. It’s some of the sexiest things about you. It makes you dangerous and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like a bit of danger.” He ran a hand up your exposed arm. Goosebumps formed and you shivered, flinching away from his touch.

Suddenly, he gripped your bicep hard enough to pepper your arm with bruises and used the other hand to press against your throat. He wasn’t choking you but he used his leverage expertly to pin you against the wall, right where he wanted you. Still, it was enough to cause pain and terror. “You’re hurting me!” You exclaimed through a choke with a panic, hands flying up to try to pry the hand from your neck.

“I’m hurting you?!” Billy pressed you harder into the wall before letting you go, as if throwing or shoving you into a wall you were already flush with, “You hurt me first.”

Your brows furrowed and your hands rubbed your arm, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Billy turned and ran his hands through his hair, which now fell messily in his face. The debonair man you had reconnected with just an hour ago was now a crazed shell of who he had been.

“You left me. You broke my heart!” Billy exclaimed wildly, now using his gun to gesture from you to himself.

Your confusion was no clearer, “What? I didn’t leave you! We were together for a year and then you joined the marines! We agreed to break up. You said you didn’t want to hold me back and-”

“And you were supposed to stay!” Billy yelled, interrupting you, “You were supposed to tell me that I wasn’t holding you back! That you were gonna wait for me! That you loved me!”

“I did love you!” Hot tears streamed down your face now, “I did, Billy, and you know that! We agreed to break things off because I didn’t want to get married and have my life dictated by wherever the hell the government told me I was allowed to live! And you agreed! You agreed that it wasn’t fair that my dreams be put on hold while you were overseas.”

Billy shook the gun at you and he was nearly in tears, “You don’t get it!”

“I was gonna wait for you! I told you that I was gonna wait for you! I wrote to you every chance I got and eventually I stopped getting letters back. That’s not on me!” You defended yourself angrily. Years of heartbreak that you suppressed started coming out and maybe it was the fear of dying without letting him know how you felt that was letting the truth flow freely but you were furious that Billy had the audacity to think things ended this way. “Billy, I loved you so much.”

Billy looked away, pained, “You see… that’s the problem right there. ‘Loved’. Past tense.” He walked towards you menacingly, glock swinging with trained comfort, “You know I went to that party hoping to impress you. I just wanted to show you how far I’ve come from that little boy in the group home. How I went from that scrawny broken teenager to a decorated special forces marine.”

His hand snaked up your body and gripped your jaw tightly, “But you don’t care about any of this, do you?”

His grip was painful and when you tried to nod, you just found your head shaking minimally in his palm. “It is impressive!” You tried complimenting through smushed cheeks, “I am proud of you. But you need to understand that kidnapping is not the way to get someone to love you again. Not genuinely.”

Maybe it was a bad idea to be honest with the violent veteran who had his hand around your face, surely strong enough to break your neck with minimal effort, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him what he wanted to hear. When you saw him, you still saw that seventeen year old you were in love with, that you could tell anything to, and you hoped he was still in there.

“Billy, if you love me, you’ll move your hand, okay? You don’t hurt the people you love,” you reasoned desperately.

His grip loosened but it didn’t fall as he looked down into the crook of his elbow. His face was red, his eyes were wild. He looked back up to you as if he were pleading, “I don’t want to hurt you,” he cried, “I never did. All I ever wanted was to protect you.”

“Then let me go. Please-”

Billy shook his head and swallowed hard, forcing his own tears down. Instead of letting you go, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, beard scratching your chin and his hot tears mixing with your own. “I can’t do that. You understand, don’t you?”

Using his grip on your neck, he pulled your body into the dining room table and he placed a large palm on your back, pressing you face down onto the wooden table. Your eyes widened in panic as he kicked your feet apart. “Wait, wait, wait!” You begged, trying to force your body up. You stomped your heel clad feet back blindly, hoping to slam into Billy’s feet wildly. “Billy, stop! You don’t need to do this!”

He pulled your hands behind your back and used his belt to tie them together before bending over your body. Billy brushed your hair gently to the side and kissed your ear sweetly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he whispered, “I just need to remind you how much you love you love me.”

The Innocent Dragon

What if the history had been changed?

What if there is more to the Aegon's prophecy?

What if the Dance of dragons never took place?

What if the union of King Viserys and Alicent Hightower never took place? what if Rhaenyra Targaryen had a Older sister who was kept hidden in the palace by the Targaryen family due to her innocent soul and ethereal face?

What if she was finally introduced to the realm only to be betrothed to the rogue Prince who had his eyes on her from the beginning?

Read "The Innocent Dragon" to know all the answers to these questions.

Aesthetic Part One Part two Part three

Part four Part five

@rosecentury @queenbrownie18