The Odette

The Odette

( @odetteeternia )

𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝓅𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉;

𝒮𝓌𝒶𝓂 𝒶𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝑜𝓃𝒾𝓉𝑒…

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝓇𝑒𝓌𝒹 𝓂𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝓅𝑒𝑒𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝒷𝑒𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝑜𝒻𝓉 𝒸𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹𝓈;

𝒮𝓉𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑔𝓊𝓁𝓅𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝑔𝒶𝓏𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝓂𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒹,

𝒲𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽 𝒽𝓊𝑔𝑔𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝓊𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒻𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓉𝑒;

𝒱𝑒𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝒾𝓇 ‘𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒾𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝓈𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉.

𝒮𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝓌𝒾𝓇𝓁𝑒𝒹, 𝒹𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃 𝒸𝒾𝓇𝒸𝓁𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓂𝒾𝒹𝓈𝓉 𝓇𝒾𝓅𝓅𝓁𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑒;

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝑜𝓃 𝓈𝒾𝑔𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝑒𝓃𝓋𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝓇𝒶𝓅𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃 𝓈𝒾𝓁𝓀 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒.

𝒫𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝒷𝓁𝑜𝓈𝓈𝑜𝓂𝓈 𝒻𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝒶𝓌𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓇𝓊𝒸𝓀 𝒹𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉,

𝒜𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓁𝑒𝓈𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓈𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓁𝒾𝒸𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝓌𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝒻𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉.

Lover

Scritch and scratch, the tip of the pen danced against the paper. My words flowed liquid, tangled in the cursive jumble of my thoughts. Loops after loops, slants and curves, my feelings turned solid as I hung them on the lines like stars.

For you to count and admire, my secrets laid bare like constellations. Holding several meanings and stories I only ever whispered to the moon.

Oh you unknown, whose face I see in dreams, on many a sleepless night.

Oh you unknown, whom I’ve loved , do love, and will love without nary the blink of an eye.

We’ve never met; yet such hold you have on my foolish little heart.

Oh you unknown will you Love me... Love me, until it consumes and tears me apart?

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

Yandere Male Celebrity x GN Manager Reader

Yandere Male Writer x GN Cop Reader

5 Things He hates about you

Smoke and Mirrors

Summary- The game mechanics have changed, you can no longer seduce Bailey. But do they succeed in making Bailey forget? Pairings- M!Bailey the caretaker x GN PC

CW- self aware Bailey, slightly nsfw, mentions of trauma

Bailey was harrowed. The last week itself felt like  a lifetime had passed. His usually stoic face now wore a slight grimace. Deep bags sat underneath dark eyes with a tired eclipse in them. 

He was so on edge that he would snap at the orphans millering around, at the barest of provocation. The orphans sensed his ire, steering clear of him. Not even a shadow dared linger near his office.

Inside the blinds were snapped shut, barring entry of any natural air or daylight. It was dank and suffocating. A heavy layer of smoke hung about his office, making the vicinity hard to see let alone sit in for hours on end, yet Bailey chose to do exactly that. Smoking like a chimney and stewing in seclusion during the lazy afternoon hours.

The gentle tic tic tic from the grandfather clock, set a hypnotic rhythm making Bailey’s head throb. Clenching his jaw, he let his head fall back, and hang over the back of the chair. He felt his eyelids droop with barely restrained exhaustion, threatening to take over.

And yet. 

And yet he refused to sleep.

The reason? Bailey scoffed

He was convinced that something was definitely wrong with him. If not, why else would he have these visions? Flashbacks? He didn’t even know if what he saw were actual memories or a sinister conjuring of his deceitful mind.

Bailey was no stranger to nightmares, having had his fair share of trauma in this debaucherous town. Trauma which was neatly packed and stowed away in some deep recess of his mind. Please and thank you. 

He didn’t need this pesky hindrance in his everyday routine. Bailey had far more pressing matters to attend to. But instead here he was isolating himself, all because he was too afraid to sleep.

The notion itself made him laugh out loud in incredulity. Why was this happening? What prompted it? Bailey had wracked his brain all night, when he leaned across the railing of his balcony, letting the midnight air cool his sweat slick body.

He still remembered that image. It was painfully sliced into his memory like a permanent scar. Bailey had jolted up in his bed, unable to breathe for a solid minute. One would think this visceral reaction was a result of him seeing some eldritch horror. It wasn’t. 

Bailey was terrified beyond wits to see a version of himself which felt too real to brush off as a nightmare. 

He knew that if he closed his eyes in that instant, he would see it. Clear as day.

Big hands bracketing the sides of a head. Broad chest enveloping a smaller body. Slaps and pants echoing in the very office he was sitting in. They were standing in front of a mirror. Its surface, all fogged up. Bailey would hear himself chuckle in that dream. Husky and low. And then, his hand would slide over the mirror.

“Look at yourself, wearing that lewd expression” he would whisper to the other person.

“Shouldn’t you thank me for making you feel that good? Such a freak” he would sneer and they would whimper, clenching around him hard in response.

And that’s when he would see it. His face. His own face, slack jawed, eyes crazed beyond sanity, and lips parted in a deep groan. His dark hair slicked back with beads of sweat rolling down his temples. All flushed and lost in pleasure.

Pleasure that he still felt like faint wisps of temptation licking away at his soul.

Pleasure that did not leave him even in consciousness. Pleasure that he knew was so potent that it would wreck him. 

Downgrade and dilute him, pushing him right alongside the filthy heathens he supplied to and made an income from.

Surely he was better than that? Bailey prided himself over his impeccable self control. No amount of luring would break his resolve, he was certain.

But the way that dream echoed in his mind made him doubt himself. That cloud of uncertainty loomed over his head like an oncoming storm. Because if that dream was just that, simply a dream, why did he still feel the touch of that unknown person burn on his skin? 

It was like his muscle memory begged him to remember something he didn’t. Or was it someone?

He grumbled. A soft knock at the door broke this frenzy of thoughts. Miffed, he grunted his assent, “Enter”

The door opened a crack, and you walked in. Bringing in a whoosh of air and a stream of light that made Bailey wince.

“What is it now?” He snipped, “Don’t waste my time” Bailey sat up straighter and stared at you. Dour and unblinking.

“It’s about the payment” you stuttered, “Is there any other way that I could pay?” You leaned over his desk, finger tracing its surface in a slow deliberate manner.

Bailey felt his head throb again, jaw clenched as he tracked the movement of your finger with slight intrigue.

He wasn’t foolish. Bailey understood what you were propositioning. He felt a mocking laugh bubble up his throat, at your sheer audacity.

Did you think him so weak? So pathetic that he would humor you?

“You can pay me with money” he sneered, “That’s what your body’s worth”

“Now scram” Bailey shooed you away, hands busy with lighting another smoke.

You trudged outside, defeated and head hung low. Tears brimming your eyes, you paused and looked over your shoulder, wanting to say a million things to that imposing man. All the frustrations that clawed inside your throat, made you choke out a whimper.

And the lighter slipped from his grasp. Eyes widened with mute horror as the memory of that sordid dream replayed in his mind. 

But this time, when he cleared the fog from the mirror, he saw the other person’s face alongside his. Face scrunched up in a whimper much alike the one you wore right now.

With shaky hands Bailey held the cigarette. A bead of sweat rolling down his spine as he realized something. 

That dream wasn’t simply a dream. It was a memory. A memory that very much took place right here in this office.

He stood up. Legs striding to the front of his desk. Fists balled at his sides, as he felt the echo of the familiar words itching at the tip of his tongue.

In some distant memory he heard himself say,

If it’ll shut you up, I’ll throw you a bone, as he practically pounced on you.

But not today. It was as if some unknown force glued him to the spot. Stopping him from grabbing that sweet sweet release that he seemed to find only in you.

The smoke overhead shifted, standing between you and him like a fragile barrier. You stalled, as if waiting for something to happen. He watched, bound by the rules of his own game.

With a hint of resignation you left, leaving Bailey a questioning, confused mess. He slumped back in his seat, unable to discern dreams from reality anymore.

I need an angst fanfic of Kylar from DoL… Please? 🥺🥺

The Butterfly Effect

Kylar the loner writing request

Word count-1118 [CW- mentions of anxiety, and implied panic attack. Themes of hopelessness and angst. One-sided love]

It had been raining that day. Not the usual downcast marring the sky—no— pleasant breeze ruffled Kylar’s dark hair, making his keen emerald eyes peek through like twin jewels, as he glanced up at the sky.

Spring rain’s drizzle had lightly sprayed his pale skin as he trudged the shabby alleys of Domus street. It had been purely out of sheer boredom that Kylar had decided to take a longer route to the park only to somehow wind up lost.

He had halted in his tracks. Slender fingers had come to grip upon the hilt of the blade resting at his hip, tucked under the rumpling fabric of his oversized hoodie. His eyes sharply bounced in every direction as he figured out his way again. Really, one could never be cautious enough in that town.

His short legs had hurried along the narrow path, his skittish gait attracted several gazes. Kylar had felt a crippling wave of anxiety crawl long his spine under the many scrutinous eyes sizing him up. His movements had become urgent. Escaping from what? He didn’t know. And just when his heart had felt like it’d burst right through his chest, he saw you.

His tiny frame was shaking. Hands came to rest on his knees as he bent over, stopping, catching his labored breaths. Just then a cottonesque cloud shifted overhead, letting a sliver of sunlight paint your cheeks and he stared mesmerized.

Dressed in clothes not much shabbier than his, but wearing a smile not even the finest of riches could afford, there you were, watering away the colorful plants, lining the depressing gray walls of the orphanage.

Shining under the natural spotlight of the sun, that seemed partial to only you that day. You seemed to be so engrossed in a conversation with a boy, who was around your age, one hand holding the hose and the other gently guiding the spray of water over the various flora.

A lone butterfly had fluttered over to you, and mischievously perched atop your head, earning a peal of giggles from you and your companion.

All his earlier anxiety forgotten, Kylar had been unaware of a small smile slowly inching up his lips. He had stared, almost marveled at the way the butterfly hovered around you, as if it had found the most beautiful flower in the garden.

And surely, Kylar had agreed wholeheartedly. His heart beat in tandem with each flap of the butterfly’s wings.

Flap…thump Flap…thump

And just like that, he had fallen in love. 

He shouldn’t have…He Mustn’t have.

***

The sharp blare of the school bell broke him out of his reverie. With jerky movements, Kylar forced his desperate eyes away from your form and packed his belongings back into his rucksack.

He was quick. He had to be because he knew what was coming next. Teeth nibbling away at the flaky skin on his chapped bottom lip, he discreetly skirted around the crowds and crowds of sweaty students in the hallway. 

 Footsteps light as a feline’s he followed you to the park, your personal shadow. It wasn’t simply an urge anymore for Kylar. It had transformed into a need. 

He needed to watch you. Needed to keep you safe. From the lecherous eyes and hands of those creeps in the streets. And sometimes even yourself. For you didn’t know what was good for you. Or who for that matter.

The sky was grim, reflecting the inner turmoil that scratched and sank its claws in his ever declining psyche. 

Hands balled into fists at his sides, Kylar braved the first few drops of rain that wet his cheeks and gazed owlishly upon you, from behind the bark of a tree.

Nails digging crimson crescents on his palm, he watched your expression melt into a sweet smile as you approached the intimidating figure standing in front of a fountain holding an umbrella.

Kylar’s hand involuntarily reached for the handle of the umbrella peeking out of his rucksack, as he saw the blonde man, roughly pull you closer under the shade of his umbrella, neatly tucking you by his side, like some prized possession. 

Kylar’s heart clenched at the wistful words that died on his tongue. 

“We co-could’ve sh-shared this umbrella” he whispered to no one in particular 

The winds slowed down. The park was empty save for the couple standing statuesque in front of the fountain. A halo of smoke surrounded them like an invisible fortress. 

The humid atmosphere suddenly weighed heavy on his chest, when Kylar saw the bully ever so slightly lean in towards you.

‘What was it that you saw in him?

He was nothing but a bully, shoving you around, embarrassing you, using you like a pet and OH GOD KYLAR CAN BE SO MUCH BETTER AND—‘

A loud thunder, masked the deafening sound of Kylar’s heart breaking into a million pieces. He watched on, soaked to the bone and numb as your lips met Whitney’s over and over in a wild, passionate kiss.

‘My love would never…they do-don’t like it. Yes theydon’ttheycan’ttheysimplycannot’, the words rattled a mile a minute, stumbling around Kylar’s brain as he stared at Whitney sacrilege his God like a horrified devout.

But nothing could ever describe the pain that shot through him, when your small hand reached up and cupped the bully’s face, pulling him closer as you welcomed his intrusive kisses.

It was like Kylar never existed. The world could’ve ceased at that moment and you simply wouldn’t have noticed. So lost in his embrace. So keen for his touches. So in Lo—

Unable to take it anymore, his jealous green eyes flitted away in a flash of anger. Trying to focus on anything but that last thought.

Unbidden, the twin jewels zeroed in on a butterfly, hovering around a flower. It desperately flapped its wings, struggling against the harsh winds and the iresome pour of the rain.

It gently touched, and cradled the petals, fluttering about the flower as if in a pathetic attempt to grab its attention. The flower stood pretty and proud. Unfazed by the lovesick being, fulfilling its pilgrimage at her altar.

A few more frantic flaps, and the butterfly finally perched atop his lover. Kissing her lips, as the last scales of color shed from its wings.

With a cold blow of the wind, it fell, lifeless wings crumbled and lay still on the ground. The sky rumbled in the distance, the flower ever in its beauteous glory swayed like it was just another day. ‘So this is what it means to fall in love’, Kylar mused with a bitter laugh, suddenly very grateful for the rain as he let the tears fall freely down his cheeks. Without a glance back, he ran, homebound.

14 Days with you Royal Au (ongoing series) [Pairings- Enemy Duke! Redacted x GN Reader] [Word count- 1768] [Tags- Angst, Smut] [A/N- Previously posted in the 14dwy discord server. Redacted belongs to @14dayswithyou]

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Part 1 : Wedding and Warning bells

Three months. You kept reminding yourself, repeating like a mantra under your breath, that you had to keep up this charade for only three months. You stared at your scantily clad figure in the ornate mirror while the chambermaid brushed your hair preparing you for the first night with the draconian Duke. The black silk robe barely covered your skin, yet you looked the very picture of elegance. Fit for a partner of the highest ranking noble in the country.

The chambermaid smiled ruefully at you as if understanding your dilemma. She lit scented candles around the vast expanse of the room and drew a bath for the newlyweds, then bowed and left the marital chamber, leaving you to sit in the middle of the plush poster bed.

Just as you were starting to get comfortable, you heard the heavy set of footfalls muffled by the soft carpet lining the room. With a creak, the big double doors opened and he walked in. 

When his cold azure eyes met yours in a searing gaze, you were pulled back to the moment this very morning, when you were standing opposite this enigmatic man on the altar. The moment that changed everything. 

Your family hailed from the oldest noble clans in the kingdom. Once respected, now barely making ends meet. Your father was a proud man. He struggled to keep up appearances but refused to accept the defeat of his house. So when the tyrannical Duke of their rival clan graced his doorstep, asking for the hand of his oldest child in marriage he was enraged, to say the least. The audacity of the arrogant man to ask for his beloved child when the young Duke himself was responsible for their clan’s downfall. 

But it was you who convinced your father that this marriage was a chance to take revenge on the Duke’s family. To overthrow them and break their power, weakening it from the inside. 

You expected the Duke, notorious for his shrewd tactics, his beast-like prowess on the battlefield, and his rumored blood lust, to be brusque and brutish. Lecherous even. You were prepared for everything. This was like a war for you, and you were ready to give up your body and chastity for it. But nothing in the world would have prepared you for the cold yet hauntingly beautiful, icy blue eyes looking at you, as he gently lifted your veil. 

You don’t know what expression you wore when you exchanged the heavy yet empty vows of eternal love with him, but it was as if he had read your mind. You were expecting him to take every opportunity to use his new prized possession. But when he leaned in for your first kiss as a couple, a melodious chuckle escaped his cherry-tinted lips and he whispered, so only you could hear, “You hate me that much Angel?” before landing a soft kiss on your forehead instead.

How confusing. Were you wrong about holding preconceived notions about this mysterious man? No, you stifled a bitter laugh. He was your enemy. The reason why you had to see your father cry for the first time in his life. You straighten your posture waiting, as he prowled near the bed, leisurely trailing his fingers along the silk sheets as he walked towards you.

You plastered on a smile, revenge was the only thought echoing in your heart. Yes. He was a man at the end of the day. A power-hungry dictator at that. Men like him had voracious appetites. He was bound to slip. And you would love to break him piece by piece, even if you had to use your body for it. If he thought himself a predator, then you would be the sweet bait luring him towards his end. There was no place for anything else. No place for any doubts.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk, and he placed one hand around your waist. A slender finger looped the soft string of the robe covering your modesty and pulled. 

The cold air caressed your body, which was now bare for him to see. His blue eyes boldly regarded you from your head to the toes, yet his face betrayed no emotions.

If he was affected at all by your sight, he hid it well. The only thing that showed his hunger was his slightly heavy breathing and the way his adam’s apple bobbed as he stood there silently. The air crackled with anticipation. 

‘Just get this done and over with!’ you found yourself thinking. But you couldn’t hold back the yelp that escaped you when suddenly, he wrapped strong arms around your shoulder and under your legs pulling you into a bridal carry.

You stared confused, as he walked deeper inside the room and pushed aside the curtains to reveal the opulent bathtub. The air was heady with the aroma of mint essential oil. A soft steam rose from the hot water ready for a bath. 

He looked at you, eyes peering so deep into yours, silently asking for your permission. When you nodded your head in assent, he crouched, gently placing you in the welcoming embrace of the hot water. You half expected him to leave you there, with the way he flitted around the room in an almost bored fashion. 

But then he returned to your side, carrying a small bottle of scented oil and a washcloth. His eyes never left yours as he uncorked the bottle putting droplets of red liquid into the bath.

The water bubbled and the air around you soon turned sweeter with the perfumed scent of cherries. He stood to his full towering height and slowly, deliberately looped his fingers around the strings of his black silk robe, unfastening the material and sliding it off his shoulder as if giving you a show.

And your traitorous eyes followed the offensive piece of cloth as it slipped languorously from his wide shoulders, down his slim waist, towards his plump and shapely rear, and finally descending to his long legs to pool around his feet. 

You simply couldn’t comprehend why you were finding it increasingly difficult to remove your eyes from him. To make matters worse, the pompous man stretched languidly, a sly glint in his eyes as he watched your throat work slightly at the sight he presented. And surely what a sight it was. Wide shoulders, strong pecs, abs that lined the way towards that delicious v that sat there like a prelude to his impressive manhood. 

You jolted out of this debauched train of thought, mentally slapping yourself at the act. ‘Focus…remember why you’re here’ you chided yourself, biting down on your lip hard, tearing your gaze away from that devilishly handsome man.

‘Yes, that’s what he is. A temptation, best remember that’

“Make room” he ordered, his voice was husky, and the baritone reverberated deep to your bones, making you shiver despite the hot water covering your body. It was the voice of someone who was made to be obeyed. To be pandered to. You moved a little and he climbed in, sloshing the water around as he settled behind you, pulling you between his long legs and resting your back flush against his chest.

He was so close, it made a blush rise to your cheeks. Strangely this was more intimate than any carnal act you imagined him to perform. The silent sensuality he possessed as his fingers combed through your hair, made your breath come out in pants, leaving small puffs of smoke in the overheated room and he hadn’t even begun yet.

He grabbed the washcloth and rubbed slow circles on your back. Brushing a calm path on your neck, to your chest, onto your stomach, and just as you thought he’d touch you there, his hand stopped. You bit your tongue, desperately holding back the frustrated groan that was about to leave your mouth.

For a small while, he laved your body with warm scented water, thoroughly cleaning, and pampering you. But then his patterns changed. He discarded the washcloth and used his palms instead to rub and massage your shoulders and neck, occasionally teasing near your rear and the inside of your thighs but never truly touching where you wanted him the most. Yes, wanted.

You hummed in contented bliss, all coherence already long evaporated from your mind. And soon his lips began to chart the area where his hands had been. You leaned back further into the welcoming cage of his strong arms when your lower half pressed against his long length, and your eyes almost popped out of their sockets. 

And then you did something surprising both him and yourself. You lifted your rear and ground it slowly along the girth of his manhood. A soft hiss escaped him echoing in the small room, and his hand gripped your shoulder tightly, pulling you back into him as he turned your face with his other hand to stare into your eyes.

“Angel” he muttered, voice rough with lust and something more primal that he held in. “Don’t play with fire, when you are so afraid to get burned” and somehow it felt like a warning and a plea at the same time. He sighed and ducked to press a soft kiss to your cheek. His long black hair seemed like a dark halo atop his head. 

You smiled to yourself, ‘He calls me an angel, yet himself resembles one. A fallen angel’

He rose, and you wearily eyed his raging erection begging to be touched. But he swiftly wrapped both your naked bodies in velvet robes and carried you back towards the bed. 

He placed you down on the feather-soft pillow. The handsome man towered above you, hands on either side of your face, as he stared, having an internal battle with himself. Unable to resist, you opened your mouth, uttering the first words you ever said since you stepped into his world. Your first words to him, “Why didn’t you take me?” 

He was startled. Then his features softened, and his cold palm cupped your cheek. “Not like this”, he replied. 

Then rising, he lay behind you, pulling the covers over both of your bodies as he hugged you from behind. “I’ll have you when the time is right. When you come to me first Angel” he whispered in your ear, stroking your hair. Sighing, you melted into his embrace. Finally realizing that maybe you were wrong, after all. Maybe you had left some space unguarded in your heart. Enough for him to creep in.

[part -2]