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ruby-serpentis · 2 years ago

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I'm too eepy so I'll go into detail later but fucking...

Content warning, oh god. Blood, lots of blood. Gortash being a nasty. Dark urge reader. Lots of talk about overpowering the dark urge sexually but it's very consensual, just power play. Rough kissing and sex and impact play and stabbing but that's seen as a sexy foreplay. It's also kinda absatatvg and bad lmao, I wrote this at 5am in bed after I woke up and I'm gonna go back to sleep in three seconds.

Fucking Gortash being a freak. Adoring the blood when Dark Urge bites into his neck, hard enough for their teeth to leave marks, scars that have been whittled into his skin over time. Loves the way they kiss him afterwards- if it could be called a kiss. Their mouth soaked in his blood, pressing their tongue into his mouth and he lets them drag the tip over his teeth. Do they doubt that he would bite down on it, or do they not care if he did tried to inflict the pain? Or worse, would they welcome it, and any semblance of restraint would peel away? With his pride holding him back, he'd let them do ungodly things to him, this creature born of murder under the killing moon.

He's thought of them, wearing the same fineries of the nobles that flock around him every day, and his stomach tightens. Dressed up, their hands stained with blood, a true beast among the quivering herd of people with riches sewn into their clothes. Gortash thinks of them in satin and lace and in blood.

But the only thing better than to kneel to this child of Bhaal, is to make them twitch.

Roughly cupping their face, even as they bare they teeth, just to press his lips to theirs, even has they hiss and spit. Gortash thinks of submitting to them as an act of love fondness but him overpowering them is his own act of worship.

They have their cultists to kiss their feet as they deserved the steps to their fathers temple, they have a butler to bequeath them gifts, but he'll be the only one that holds their attention. Their temple resting on his knee, even if he has to bruise their throat in his harsh grip to push them down.

Gortash needs to overpower them, but not in the usual way of needing a brat to become subservient to him, with a kick to their gut. No, he needs to wrestle them down, and show them he's the victor. He'll be dripping blood, a dagger stuck in his side, but he'll win, and they'd feel that their true place is under him, with his hard cock pressing against their side, as he mouths at their neck, uncaring about any who'd stumble upon them.

Ever since returning, his life has felt plastic, serene, sterilised. The Urge, his Urge, reminds him of the Hells, of sulphur staining his skin and blood on his tongue where he had nearly bitten through it as the jailer beats him and mocks him. He hates it. But on the Bhaalspawn, the humiliation of his flashbacks become an aphrodisiac, and he greedily drinks it all in.

So he fucks them against marble floors and prestigious paintings and expensive cloth, as they bite him and scratch him and spill both of their blood. They could ram a dagger through his side and he'd still grip their chin to force them to meet his lips.

The days he spends over powering them, gripping their wrists down as they sink their teeth into his fragile skin, will one day give way to when they stretch out against his sheets, drowsiness settling in, and they stay. Maybe because they don't care about their vulnerability at that moment, or maybe because there's a semblance of trust between them, where he wears a collar of their bites, and they roll over and show their belly for him.

Either way, what bliss.

#frothing at the mouth becaus kANJD #BARK BARK #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #enver gortash #dark urge #gortash x durge

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ruby-serpentis · 2 years ago

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Leighton, who knows your face but not your name once school is in session. He's never met you before, but you catch his attention in the hallway. You're laughing and giggling with friends, school folder squeezed to your chest and a sweet smile on your face. You walk right past him without a glance, too engrossed in your conversation to notice his leering.

Pretty thing, he thinks, wondering if he has any photos of you.

Surely not. He'd remember someone like you.

Leighton, who sends Sirris out to the cafe as he conducts his 'inspections.' Camera in hand, he lines the girls up and tells them to unbutton their shirts and flash their breasts— for health reasons, of course. He takes his photos as each girl strips and shifts uncomfortably before sending them back to their seats. His grin widens when he realizes you're at the end of the line.

Finally, he thinks.

You lower your blouse over your shoulders and ball your hands on either side of your torso, trying to hide the view from anyone but him, hard swallowing and trying not to meet his eyes. He stares for a moment before finally snapping a few photos, catching your quivering lip in the shot.

"Nice pair,' he says, licking his lips and imagining what it would feel like to jiggle the fat in his palms. You flush, shrinking back as he reaches forward and indulges, running a calloused thumb over the hardening peak. A quick squeeze and he realizes he's out of time.

She'll give me an excuse one day, he thinks, palming his hard cock beneath his desk. All students do at some point or another. You'll end up in his office. He's sure of it.

Leighton, who grows tired of waiting. You're a good girl, it seems. Well liked and behaved. A teacher favorite. So he takes things into his own hands.

He bribes two delinquents to frame you. He doesn't care how.

Just ensure she is sent to me, he tells them. They oblige gleefully. Thank God for this horrible town and the rotten fruit it bears.

Leighton, who is particularly careless with his car the next day. He drives through puddles and parks under trees; he doesn't take the tunnel to work, letting the rain wash over the paint job. Filthy, filthy, filthy.

It won't stay like this for long, he thinks.

You sit in his office after school, squirming and fingering anxiously at your skirt. You've never been here before. You're a good girl.

"I have something special for you today."

He takes you to the private lot, pointing to the sponge and bucket of soapy water sitting beside his car. You look at him and then the bucket incredulously. Surely he doesn't want—

"You'll want to take off your clothes for this," He grins, with far too many teeth. "No sense in getting your little uniform dirty."

You do as you're told. You strip down to your panties and get nice and wet and soapy cleaning his car. He watches attentively— very attentively, legs crossed to hide the throbbing length straining against his slacks.

"You missed a spot," he points, leaning in for a better view as you bend and buff out some dirt on his bumper. Your wet underwear clings to your ass, starting to ride up, and you don't dare pinch at it—

If only he had more time, he thinks.

Leighton, who raises a hand to Sydney in the Library. You rush to his aid, demanding an explanation.

"Supplies have gone missing under their watch," he tells you. "And they are responsible."

You claim equal responsibility, noble little thing that you are.

"Punish me too."

You don't have to tell him twice. Normally he'd have you both over the counter, but he can't pass up the opportunity. He empties the library, and tells Sydney to lock the door behind him. He won't hear any protestation from the little brat. None of it.

"I'm doing as she asked. Now get out."

You cling to the desk as he bends you over and flips your schoolgirl skirt, biting your lip to hide your shame. He takes a good, long look, committing it to memory before slapping the curve of your ass with his hand.

God, what he wouldn't give to—

Oh, wait. He's the headmaster. He can do as he pleases.

Your knees buckle as he crooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and gives them a firm tug down.

"This is a severe infraction, and thus begets a severe punishment. One you won't soon forget."

And one he won't either.

You yelp as he repeatedly cocks his hand back and slaps your bare bottom without mercy, your eyelashes wet and dewy as little silvery tears trail down your cheeks. Your cries border on obscene, and if he tries, he can imagine you're moaning for him like the naughty little thing he knows you are inside.

Your skin turns the most delicious shade, abuse leaving you already turning a cosmic shade of colors from the bruising. He almost pants harder than you do, hardly even needing to touch you to feel his peak approaching. He's horrified, but he can't stop. He's gone far past the 'deserved' punishment but the way you mewl and whimper has his mind obscured with hazy pink lust.

"H-headmaster!"

"Please let me go!"

"I'll be a good girl, I promise!"

He has to stop. He has to. If he doesn't, he's going to make a mess of his trousers.

A mess that should be on your teary little face and jiggling tits and all over your pretty cunt and deep in your bruising ass

With a final blow, he releases your arms, trying to catch his breath. You stay bent and sobbing long enough for him to catch a quick photo on his cell.

(Never the cell phone. Never ever the cell phone. Too traceable, too damning— but he can't bear to forget the sight in every marvelous detail. Before the shape of his hand disappears from your creamy skin and his handiwork heals over.)

Leighton, who leans over you as you sob, large hand grabbing a rough handful of your ass, snarling in your ear.

"You're a naughty little brat, and I'll be seeing you again soon. Mark my words."

He knows you feel his eagerness as he presses against you; there's no way you can't feel the hot, hard length practically ready to pop behind his zipper. His face is as red as your behind and he can tell if he doesn't pull away now, he'll have you here and now. He wouldn't be able to stop himself— couldn't control it.

Leighton, who turns without another word, leaving you heaving and weeping against the counter, bottom bared and practically bleeding.

Leighton, who beelines to his office, locking himself inside before making the mess he so longs to all over the printed pictures he has of your exposed tits and pouting lips.

It's not the same.

It's not the fucking same.

Leighton, who decides in that moment that he can't live if he can't defile you himself. He wants to feel those tight, wet walls constrict around his cock, velvety and hot. He wants to spread your legs and work you over until you're a panting, moaning mess, begging him to stop—

To keep going.

Leighton, the educator, who would be remiss in his position if he didn't teach you all about sexuality. About the dirty things humans do in the dark. About what a mouth is truly capable of and that your ass is used for more than just discipline.

Leighton, the headmaster, who announces to the school the very next day that he'll be rewarding all of his best students with private positions in his office for extra credit.

Leighton, your headmaster, who makes it mandatory.

#FROTHING AT THE MOUTH BECAUSE THIS IS SO GOOD #SKDNJGKJGD #NO WORDS #degrees of lewdity #dol #leighton the headmaster #dol leighton

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ruby-serpentis · 2 years ago

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horror au! whitney - head canons

pairing: male! whitney x gender neutral! reader

warning(s): death, hauntings, forced marriage, blood

I MEANT FOR THIS TO BE OUT DURING HALLOWEEN LMAO obviously that didn’t happen

please note that i do not condone any of this behavior in real life. this is merely a work on fiction based on another work of fiction.

INTRODUCING...THE 2ND BEST BIO-EXORCIST

how could two ghosts fail to haunt a house and rid themselves of the family? inexperience, simply.

their case worker, bailey, had told them they would have to get rid of the humans themselves. but to never rely on that business card they got with one name scrawled on it: whitney.

river and winter were inexperienced ghosts and their haunting skills were juvenile at best. but it amused you, the child of the people that had moved in.

your father was a man of business and your step-mother was an eccentric artist. you wouldn’t really be at this home if it weren’t for the fact that finding an apartment was extremely difficult near the end of the academic year. so you resigned yourself to spending the summer between your freshman and sophomore year of college with your family and helping them move in.

the house had an old charm to it. and clearly there was a lot of thought put into everything from the wallpaper, to the decorations, to the antiques. it was a shame your step-mother was keen on reimagining the whole house for herself. you would’ve kept it the same, like your father.

when you first moved in, you noticed two women watching you from the attic window. they quickly disappeared, but it piqued your interest and you tried to go into the attic. only to find it locked.

you knew something was up, so you pushed the skeleton key into the lock and watched as it fell out, as if someone had poked it from behind.

after a few days, you were able to get into that attic and see the beautiful, well crafted miniature town. it was a cozy place to be, especially if you were a ghost.

you’d come to run into the couple later on that week. river was frustrated that it seemed the sheets did not work. (why would they?)

but as the weeks went on, the couple gradually grew more and more fond of you. even if they still wanted your family out of their home. winter was more than happy to receive your help in getting supplies for his model town. and river liked that at least you were trying to keep the integrity of the house, much to the disagreement of your step-mother.

things took a terrible turn though when river and winter tried to scare off your parents and their guests with a pretty good haunting incident. it scared the living shit out of you and usually, you would’ve been unphased.

perhaps it was time to call in the expert.

“it’s not a very scary name.” winter says, adjusting her glasses. “how do we know it’s going to work?”

“we’ll just have to try.” river looks at the back of the card, seeing it blank.

whitney. whitney. whitney.

the couple were shrunken down to the size of the model town and in the distance, they could see lights. they followed it, finding a bunch of arrows and shovels.

winter was not keen on doing what he thought they’d have to do. “let’s start digging.” river tosses her wife a shovel.

after what felt like forever, river felt her shovel hit hard against wood. she brushed the debris aside to discover a coffin with the name whitney messily scratched into it.

the coffin starts to shake, giving them the cue to climb out of the grave they had just dug up.

out from the grave popped...a child?

he looked no older than at most 20. he still had a bit of baby fat attached to his face. he looked so...human. like them. and yet the grin on his face was a little unnerving.

“whitney here! at your service! the second best bioexorcist in town!” his voice was a little raspy.

“you...you’re just a kid!” river exclaims.

“a kid?” he laughs. “i can guarantee i am not a kid! i just chose a form that would be suitable to your eyes and your comfort.”

“a kid is going to help us exorcise the people from our home?” winter raises an eyebrow. “what can you do?”

“i can do a lot more than you. like this.”

winter and river would never speak of what they saw when whitney uncovered a sliver of his true form.

whitney spent the next two weeks terrorizing you and your family. and honestly, you were terrified from leaving your room.

it was a little extensive what he was doing. and yet, he was frustrated as to why your step-mother insisted staying. do people just not know that a haunted house is a big neon sign for “get the fuck out?”

and yet, part of him was quite satisfied with the fact that you haven’t left. not yet anyways.

there was something about your particular fear that...really made him feel hot and bothered. especially below the waist.

he loved watching the way your eyes would widen and how you’d run straight for your room, locking the door behind you. he could easily pass through the door and unlock it, open it to give it the illusion of him coming in. but he didn’t. he liked that you thought you were safe from him in your room.

naturally, you were angry with both river and winter. you understood why they wanted you and your family out of your house. but you didn’t think it would ever come at this price.

the culmination of everything in the house comes with a seance. or what your step-mother’s colleague thought was a seance summoning.

what it really was a spell of exorcism, a spell that made the dead beyond dead, forced to float around in an endless void.

you recognized it for what it was. your step-mother was so desperate for validation with her art, within higher society, so desperate for fame that she was willing to kill people, kill souls.

you didn’t know what to do. there was nothing in this handbook for the dead about how to stop an exorcism. and that left you with only one option.

you ran to the attic, desperately searching for the spirit that had been terrorizing your house and family for the past few weeks. you didn’t know its name, only that it had a presence—

“looking for me?”

you look down at the model town, seeing a boy your age lighting a cigarette while sitting on the roof of a home. he takes a long drag and blows it towards you. you quickly swat the smoke away. it smells horrible.

“who are you?”

“who am i? well i can’t say. someone cursed me with the inability to say my name. so you’re gonna have to guess.” he blows his some hair out of the way of his eye. you swore you could see the eye hidden by his fringe being all black.

“i need your help!”

“help?” he smirks. “what help?”

“what do you—!” you took a deep breath. your hands were still shaking however. “i need you to save river and winter!”

“so those are their names?” he takes another drag. “why should i save them?”

“because it’s right?” you were in disbelief.

“yeah, but what’s in it for me slut?”

you felt your cheeks grow hot. what was even the point of calling you that? you couldn’t get distracted though! you could not!

“i…i don’t even know what i could give you!”

“you could give me your body.” he smirks. you feel repulsed by the way he’s looking at you, observing you.

“no!”

“not in that way.” he flicks his cigarette away. “i am kind of tired of being dead, y’know. kind of wanna be alive again? taste things, live things. you just need to marry me! and after my come into the world as a human, that’s it!”

“that’s…that’s it?”

“exactly.”

“there has to be more than that!” you exclaim. “i know that’s not all!”

“sure, i can go on about what else there is to the bargain. but,” he taps on his watch. “time is running out real quickly for your precious ghosts.”

your stomach drops. in the midst of trying to get help, you had forgotten that there was a clock ticking on river and winter.

“can you really bargain with me right now slut?”

you purse your lips and huff. “fine! i’ll…loan you my body i guess.”

“great! you just have to summon me! by saying my name.” he puts three fingers up. you’re able to guess what he means.

“what…what is your name?”

“it’s your…what’s their name? whatever one of your friend’s favorite drinks.”

“lager?”

“definitely not.”

“vodka?”

“gross!”

“okay…pink whitney?”

his face lights up. “second word slut.”

“whitney?” it sounds so strange rolling off your tongue. to you. to him it sounds so right. a little too right. “whitney? whitney?”

that was all he needed.

whitney disappeared, causing you to rush down stairs back to the exorcism.

with a snap of his fingers, he was able to stop the exorcism, saving winter and river from a fate worse than death (literally).

whitney proceeded to terrorize the living, especially your step-mother and her colleague. he was like a conductor leading an orchestra. the chaos moved like a symphony and you yourself yelped when your own shadow began moving on its own.

you were paralyzed with fear, watching everything unfold. you thought you saw everything until now.

before river and winter could question why whitney was free, he disappeared. and you with him.

“(y/n)?” river exclaims. “(y/n)!”

you were suddenly in a different place. it looked…quite cozy actually.

the lighting came from a singular fireplace, which crackled calmly. you approached it, mesmerized by the flames.

“alone at last.”

you turn around, whitney directly behind you. now that you were standing in front of him, you realized that he was…huge! he towered over you!

“take me back!”

“can’t do that slut. you’re mine now.”

“yours? i don’t belong to anyone!”

whitney raises an eyebrow and laughs. “oh you belong to me now. i mean, you agreed to give your body to me. and i fulfilled my end of the deal by saving those sissies called ghosts.” he grips onto your waist, pulling you close.

you squirm when you feel his tongue on your face. he gives a long lick and pulls away. “you taste so good when you’re afraid.”

“take me back!”

“don’t you listen slut?” he scoffs. “you’re mine. which means you will be forced to stay here. did you really think i would let you go after planning everything? leaving the handbook for the deceased out in the open for your step-mother to find?”

“you…you did this?”

“of course! what? don’t think i’m smart enough to?” whitney laughs and leans forward, catching your lips in a hard kiss.

+++ Stress

- - - Control

++ Arousal

you squirm, trying to free yourself. his grip becomes unbearably hard, forcing you to stop. and he bites down on your lip, hard. so hard that he draws blood. using your gasp of pain, whitney shoves his tongue into your mouth, tasting you. you wanna gag when you taste notes of copper.

he pulls away after what feels like an eternity of kissing. you looked so cute with your cheeks flushed, adrenaline running through your body, and blood dripping from your lower lip.

he wanted more.

your nose scrunches up out of disgust, smelling the heavy scent of cigarettes on him.

whitney just laughs.

“you’ll get used to it slut. in fact, you’ll learn to crave it~”

#degrees of lewdity #dol #ruby's horror au #horror au #whitney the bully #dol whitney #whitney x reader #dol whitney x reader #x reader #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader

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ruby-serpentis · 2 years ago

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finished whitney’s horror au hcs. expect them to come out tomorrow!!

#ruby speaks #ruby’s horror au #dol #degrees of lewdity #whitney the bully #dol whitney

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ruby-serpentis · 2 years ago

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horror au! doren - head canons

pairing: male! doren x gender neutral! reader

warning(s): imprisonment, cannibalism, blood, gore, sus behavior from reader

tag list: @pip-n-chips @pwerfumes

a companion piece to my leighton horror au! head canons (makes sense considering they’re based on the same movie just different characters) ;)

this...also came very late. and it’s not EXACTLY what i wanted. but i think it’s alright. have fun?

please note that i do not condone any of this behavior in real life. this is merely a work on fiction based on another work of fiction.

INTRODUCING...THE BEST BARBER IN LONDON

life was never easy. or kind. it used to be. but was it ever really those things? could it ever really be those things?

once a happily married man, now an exile, the best barber in london returns to the capital of an empire after being exiled to australia. for what, you may ask?

for nothing.

for having married a wonderful person.

sirris was a gentle woman with an interest in the sciences. publicly, she didn’t pursue such passions. but privately and within their small flat next to his barber shop, she was free to pursue such knowledge. she was able to because of how hard working her husband was.

doren and sirris were not able to have children. the man was content to be without child until coming across an orphan under the care of bailey.

the couple’s hearts grew soft for the child and they took them in, raising one happy family.

of course, doren’s happiness would not go unnoticed. not by you, the baker next door who ran the establishment all by yourself. and certainly not by judge leighton.

“what are the lovely couple up to today?”

“how should i know?” you wrap up the meat pie with paper and twine before sliding it to him on the counter. he drops a few coins in your hand and you sort them into the register.

“you always know, dear. always spying on them, longing for something that you can’t have. should have made your move long ago.”

you glare at him. that smug grin on leighton’s face always made you want to punch him. “i should just stop serving you.”

“you can’t afford that, could you?” he laughs, taking the wrapped meat pie. “you know what could happen. one whisper into the wrong ear and poof! your family’s shop gets sold to someone else. someone more...promising.”

“you are a scumbag.”

“please. i am the least corrupt person in london.” there is a glint in leighton’s eyes today though. it unnerves you to some extent.

“what do you want?”

“why are you assuming i want something? aside from your delicious meat pies.”

“you always give me that look when you want something.”

“well, perhaps i do. and you will get something out of it.”

“like what?”

leighton smirks and lets out a small laugh. it sounds evil. if evil was a human form, it would be the man standing in front of you. “doren.”

on second thought, maybe the judge wasn’t so bad after all.

trusting leighton was the biggest risk...ever. no one could ever trust him. as a person. no one should trust him. but you made that mistake. and because of that, doren had been exiled to australia. you never wanted this to happen, never asked for it to happen.

over the years, you wondered what had happened to doren. if he was alright, if he was safe, if he was dead. at night, you would lament over your mistake, selling him out and testifying anonymously for leighton so he could get rid of the barber and steal his spouse all for himself.

it seemed like the perfect plan. leighton got sirris. and you got doren, a man you had hopelessly been in love with since he opened up shop next to you.

as the years passed on, your bakery did worse and worse. it didn’t help that the price of ingredients began to increase drastically increase and you had to cut corners keep business and stopped selling your famous items. like your meat pies. many of your loyal customers were upset but understood why you had to stop. still, it saddened you to see their faces fall.

you didn’t turn your head up as you kneaded the dough against the counter when you heard the bell ring. the footsteps were heavy and you could hear a faint tune be hummed.

“welcome to shiver’s bake shop. how may i help you?”

“i would like a meat pie.”

“we don’t sell meat pies anymore, sir.”

“really? that’s a shame. they were the best in london.”

your ears perked up when you heard that. there was only one person that ever said that.

you place the dough in a bowl and cover it with a towel before turning around, flour covering your apron.

doren looked...different.

the man has always been pale. but he looked ghostly, like he had died and been revived. his hair was a lot longer than you last saw him. it had been a few years after all. there were multiple streaks of white in his red hair. and he was clean shaven, revealing his strong jawline. it was weird to see him without facial hair. the other thing that caught your eye were his eye bags. they were deep and dark. he also looked...skinnier compared to the last time you saw him.

“meat isn’t exactly cheap. not unless you want the scraps of animals to be in your meat pie.” you pull out a pasty and set it on a plate with a fork, sliding it over to him. “on the house.”

doren looks at it before picking it up with his hands and breaking it in half. he looks at the filling and raises an eyebrow. “not exactly a pasty is it? there’s no meat.”

“just had to make do.”

he begins digging out the filling, leaving the dough much to your surprise. you just watch him pick apart his food while he eats before he looks at you. “you haven’t aged a day, have you (y/n)?”

“i wouldn’t say that. you certainly have.”

he lets out a laugh. it’s a lot different than the laugh you were used to. it was dry and lacked heart, as if the soul had been sucked out of it.

“you’re not supposed to be here. why are you here?” you ask.

“isn’t it obvious? i’m here for revenge.”

doren outlined to you his plan for revenge, his plan to get back at leighton for having ruined his life. it was a solid plan, if it weren’t for your interference. doren had leighton in the palm of his hand and he was gone. because of you.

as much as you hated leighton, you needed him. he was still the only thing keeping your business afloat.

doren had exploded at you for doing such a thing. he was angry, rightfully so. but you just needed him to wait a teeny bit longer before he goes on killing leighton.

you told him it was vital to just focus on building business, to kill leighton in secret. re-establish himself as the renowned barber he used to be.

it wasn’t a bad idea. and doren certainly got attention after he had beat a rival barber: remy.

you never liked remy much, especially when you noticed how poorly he treated the child that worked under him. kylar, was his name? you caught it very briefly.

you were working like you normally did when you heard a loud thump above you. concerned, you briefly close the shop and head upstairs. doren turns off the stove and turns to you. “tea?”

“did...something happen?”

you see his eyes flick to a chest and your own follow his line of sight. you rush to the chest, faster before he could, and open it.

“well...” you close it. “what are we to do with him?”

“dump him in the river. deserved probably.”

you open the chest again before an idea hits you.

a horrible idea.

a horrible, beautiful idea.

“it’d be a waste of good meat.”

after a good shave, people came piling into your shop again to eat a hot meat pie. inflation had caused many people to give up on meat. so to taste a nice, warm, juicy meat pie was always a relief.

no one seemed to notice the fact that a priest recently went missing. or the son of a wealthy nobleman. or a man who worked for a trading company.

in those few months, both of your businesses had grown. it was almost like your little slice of paradise, something for you and doren. and yet, despite how good of a fit the two of you were, you noticed he was still hung over his wife and his child.

you ignored his laments, offering nothing more than a reassuring pat on his back.

you had even taken in the little boy under remy’s wrath: kylar. he was a sweet kid. a little weird maybe, but overall sweet. and you always reminded him to swat away the old hag that kept bothering your shop, mumbling about the “smell of death” in your shop.

doren noticed you were oddly hostile towards this woman. it was strange to him. annoying yes, but she wasn’t doing much harm. and you always brushed off his questions about the hag. or even deflected from it entirely.

the hag truly became a problem when she walked in on him disposing a body down the chute to your basement. and he swiped his blade across her throat on instinct and threw her down with the other body.

but something in his stomach told him that he knew that woman. she was...familiar, despite her incoherent mumbling.

doren asks if he can inspect the bodies once you closed up shop and shooed out the last customer. kylar had tucked himself to bed, so it was just the two of you.

he couldn’t see the hag’s face very well. “can you open the oven?”

you hesitated, unsure if that was what you should do. but when he looked at you, you shivered. it felt similar to the way leighton would look at you sometimes: like prey. prey to kill.

you open the over, letting the fire light the room.

doren’s back was turned to you. and you could not see the looked of horror and realization as he realized who he had just killed.

her name left his tongue. “sirris.”

oh how much you hated that name.

sirris this, sirris that. it was always sirris. and never you. why could it not be you?

“you knew?” doren’s voice cracked, heartbroken. “you knew she was alive! you told me she was dead!”

“that’s what leighton told me!” you exclaim.

“leighton?” he asks. “why would leighton...tell you?”

you feel the blood leave your face, realizing you had exposed yourself.

doren puts two and two together in his mind. leighton, the false charges, the supposed testimony from an anonymous source. you going out of your way to even prevent him from killing leighton. even leighton’s visits to your shop did not go unnoticed by him.

“i...i had to do it!” you grab his hands. “i had to! leighton...he promised that you would just be in prison for a few months! nothing more! he promised that i’d be able to keep my shop and...and you would be mine! and he would marry sirris.”

doren looks at you. his eyes looked softer, somehow. or was it just your imagination? “you...did this for me?”

“of course! i love you doren! and she!” you grit your teeth. “she did not love you. she was a wretched woman. you didn’t know her like i did, how i did. she didn’t love you. i loved you. i still love you doren!”

he doesn’t react for a few minutes.

how could he?

gently, his hand rests on your waist and he pulls you into a waltz.

it was a surprise but you followed along, almost too eager about it.

doren kisses you, hard. and you melt into his arms. sparks flew. you could feel it within yourself. you kissed him back with fervor, wanting this moment to last forever.

he pulls away and whispers, “do you know what sounds tasty right now?”

“what, my love?”

“a roast dinner. can you do that?”

“i can and will do anything for you.”

he smiles. anxiety settles within your bones upon seeing his smile. it’s cold, like leighton’s. it feels...mocking.

it all happened so quickly, the way he pushed you as if you weighed nothing and offered no resistance.

you fell into the flames and they touched your skin like men who haven’t felt the touch of their wives for months. your screams were ear shattering and they only grew louder when he closed the oven and locked it.

doren sat besides the corpse of his once wife, wondering if everything was worth it. wondering if it was even all worth it.

“smells delicious.”

#degrees of lewdity #dol #ruby's horror au #horror au #doren the english teacher #dol doren #doren x reader #dol doren x reader #x reader #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader

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ruby-serpentis · 2 years ago

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another complete profile makeover lol can never decide

anyways i’m curious to know if people wanna see whitney’s horror au hcs first or doren’s. feel free to let me know!

#ruby speaks #ruby's horror au #degrees of lewdity #dol #whitney the bully #dol whitney #dol doren

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ruby-serpentis · 2 years ago

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horror au! leighton - head canons

pairing: male! leighton x gn! reader

warning(s): corruption, political corruption, obstruction of justice, coercion, mentions of grooming, nonconsensual voyeurism, guilt tripping

MWAHAHAHA I FINALLY FIGURED SOMETHING OUT FOR LEIGHTON!! enjoy you dirty leighton lovers ;)

this is also like...VERY LATE I’M SO SORRY GUYS. (anyways victorian leighton?)

reader is in their 20s, btw.

please note that i do not condone any of this behavior in real life. this is merely a work on fiction based on another work of fiction.

INTRODUCING...THE LUSTFUL JUDGE

you were born in a rough environment, per say.

living in an orphanage was not ideal especially with the caretaker bailey. she was strict, rough, and cheap. she did not care much about you or the other children.

but you eventually found a caretaker: a lovely man named doren and his spouse, sirris. they treated you warmly and with kindness. you loved your home despite the smallness. there was enough money to keep your stomach full so you didn’t complain.

things in your life went awry so quickly. the good thing that finally happened went away in the blink of an eye.

your father was accused of a crime he did not commit. you didn’t remember what. and he was shipped away, never to return.

you didn’t know what happened to sirris, only that you were then placed in the custody of the judge that sentenced doren to exile. he was never to return.

you knew nothing about the judge other than his name: leighton. that and you remember seeing him quite a few times when you used to live at the orphanage. he would converse with bailey often. there was something he wanted and that he would get, obviously.

he housed you as his new ward and kept you locked within his home. it was a nice home. lots of things to do. and for the most part, he left you alone which made you relieved. something in your stomach told you that the older man was off.

you would be unaware of his interest in you as you grew older. and you wished it stayed that way.

when you came of age, leighton started looking for a spouse for you. after all, you were his ward. it was his job to have you married off and perhaps even take a dowry while he was at it. a little extra money never hurt anyone. not that his pockets were empty. they were far from that.

leighton knew quite a few people in high places. old money, new money, aristocrats, factory owners. he knew them all. after all, they supplied money in his pockets if they needed a favor. some of them he’s been working with since he was a young lawyer.

but you? you showed no interest in marriage, despite your popularity. you had people approaching you for marriage almost every day. proposals flooded the mailbox of your home. people even came up to you on the street to ask for your hand.

and you said no to every one of them.

it was cute when you were young. leighton chalked it up to your spritely young attitude and growing into an adult in society.

but after you turned 20, it was no longer cute. you might’ve ended up being unmarried for the rest of your life.

the judge started getting more involved in your life, much to your annoyance. he even started chaperoning you when you went out. normally you would’ve been chaperoned by one of his henchmen or even a house servant.

leighton started to question what to do with you. if you weren’t going to be married off, then you would be stuck with him. and that was not right...was it? supporting you until he died, passed his properties onto you?

it wasn’t until after your most recent birthday did he start seeing you...differently.

he started noticing your attractiveness, your intelligence, the way your body moved sensually and how the clothes clung onto you. you were sweet and melodic. despite the grayness of the world, you were gentle and kind.

despite having him as your guardian.

he was perhaps one of the most corrupt people to exist in town. well, there were others that could be considered worse. but who had the most influence and power? he did. no one else.

and you seemed to grasp none of it.

you were untouched, untainted. and it was because of his influence that you were this way.

and perhaps, if he had married you off, you still wouldn’t be the sweet, pure soul that he recognized you were.

at one point, this obsession grew to the point he had a hole cut in the wall. it was small and hidden well. you didn’t seem to notice. but he would remove the small painting covering it to spy on you, to watch you.

some nights you read and wrote, working on your novel. (yes he had absolutely gone through your room and desk. your writing was quite exquisite)

other nights you looked wistfully out your window, sketching something on your windowsill. a butterfly, a flower you bought from the florist down the street, a book you took from your shelves.

and then there were the nights you...indulged. in earthly pleasures.

your little moans were so lewd and the way you would bite down onto your pillow to muffle your sounds? so so cute.

he was pawing at his own cock, feeling himself get hard so quickly. he wondered what you were thinking about while you touched yourself. could you possibly be thinking about him? that got him even more hard.

he loved those nights where he would watch you from his study, hand smoothly gliding down his shaft. he imagined how warm your mouth would be around his cock and how warm your hole would be, how the walls would clench around his cock, desperately trying to drain his balls.

leighton had to have you.

you needed to be his.

“i will marry my ward.”

it was a sudden announcement to the servants. even his henchman was surprised. alas, he did not say anything. they were all paid to keep quiet and work on the wedding arrangements in private.

getting measured for new clothes was nothing new. so it was routine for you. you didn’t suspect a thing.

after getting your measurements taken, you went to the market to scout for something to buy. you had a little more allowance than usual and wanted to spend it on something.

as you stared at the inventory, a charming man caught your attention.

he was running the stall and he wormed his way into your little heart. it was for sure a marketing tactic, trying to convince you to buy his potatoes or maybe a bottle of fresh milk.

and yet, it worked. you were practically putty in his hands.

you got his name: alex.

“will you be here tomorrow alex?”

“of course. you’re welcome at my stall any time.” his smile was warm, his voice gentle. not to mention his body.

you came home with a skip in your step, excitement bubbling in your veins. leighton thought it was strange. you never expressed such a thing in your demeanor.

and when he asked what had happened, you didn’t answer. you brushed him off, ignored him.

he had a servant ask you and come to him when they had to answer. and you answered honestly this time.

“they met a man, sir.”

“you are dismissed.”

leighton sat and contemplated. there was no way this boy from the country would interrupt his plans to marry you...right?

oh how wrong he was.

young love was like adrenaline. it pumped through the body quickly and fiercely. except unlike adrenaline, the feeling of love and care for alex didn’t leave so quickly.

you visited the markets every day for two months straight just to talk to him, to get to know him. he even walked you through the park or down the shopping streets. you were getting...cozy.

and you were also moaning his name at night.

leighton decided he had to act quickly.

the same night of your wedding with him, you were going to meet with alex in town. alex had plans to formally court you and he was excited.

he waited in front of the address you gave him, faithfully. he was nervous and dressed in his best clothes.

but you never came out.

he wondered where you were, waiting for hours after you guys were supposed to meet.

and that’s when it happened.

it happened so quickly. he was hit on the head, hard, during the night. no one was around to see. the people that saw on the street turned a blind eye in favor for the money coming from the judge’s pocket. and then he was thrown into a carriage and taken away.

you, on the other hand, woke up in a cellar, locked in a literal cage with your ankle chained to the wall. you banged, screamed till your lungs hurt. nothing. you were weak after hours of trying to escape and decided to sleep.

leighton thanked the woman who made the cage, telling her to ignore your pleas for help and screams. “my ward is quite dramatic. i am doing this for their own good.”

“sure.” she scoffs.

“truly your finest work eden.” leighton presses the bag of money into her hand. “should be enough for you to retire to the countryside.”

she doesn’t say anything, following a servant out of the house.

the hours passed and you jumped when the door to the cellar open and saw your guardian. “leighton!” you exclaim. “please! let me out of here!”

he smiles but it unnerves you. it doesn’t reach his eyes. he dangles the keys to your shackles and cage in his hand. “awww. poor little dove.” he chimes. “all locked up. i’m sorry to have to do this to you.”

...have to do this?

“i couldn’t let that boy court you. if he courted you then you would not be...well, mine.” he lets out a chuckle.

“i am not yours! not even as your ward!” you exclaim.

“tsk, tsk. you misunderstand, little dove. you did not want to marry. i debated if i should just arrange something for you. but why would i do that? i realized that you must not have married...so you can stay with me.”

you scoffed at the idea. you remained unmarried for your independence, something that being with leighton gave. he wasn’t involved in your life. why was he suddenly getting involved now?

“i decided to grant your wish. you can stay with me permanently. it’s a promotion even!”

your stomach sank. “no...no!” it cannot be what you were thinking of.

“little dove, our wedding is tonight. private of course. with two witnesses.” he sighs wistfully. “and you have no choice but to accept.”

“i can still say no!”

“are you sure? do you...want to be alone? thrown out onto the street? no one will want you. your birth parents didn’t even want you and no one else in that barber’s family wanted to take you in. who would dare publish your book? horrendous and cheesy and oudated.” he’s read your book! since when? “you won’t be able to make a living. and then you will get desperate, perhaps turn to crime or sell your body. you’re cute, people would pay to ravish you. but you wouldn’t want to be demoted to such a state, would you?”

leighton steps forward and crouches, staring deep into your eyes. you felt shivers run through your body. you felt like an insect under observation by a madman.

“you have no one but me little dove. i took you in under the kindness of my heart.” he places a hand over his chest. “will you repay with such hostility? i would hate to see you become a whore.”

even if you wanted to reject him, he was...right. in almost every sense.

the worst part about leighton was that he spoke the truth. how many people would want to read your novel? it was pointless to even consider publishing.

your silence was golden and he watched the way the gears turned in your brain, the way he pondered and thought.

you spoke through gritted teeth. “...i will...marry you.”

a smirk creeps onto leighton’s face. he made a mental note to find a publisher for you.

“that’s a good little dove.”

#degrees of lewdity #dol #dol leighton #leighton the headmaster #ruby's horror au #horror au #leighton x reader #dol leighton x reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #female reader #male reader

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