#(( But the choke hold noose is tightening. )) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

milkzoro · 11 months

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mdni, self bondage, slight edging, fingering, choking, cnc, somnophilia, missionary, creampie, cum cum cum <3

✧*̥˚ trafalgar law *̥˚✧

law wasn’t home, he didn’t say when he’d be back but the ache in your tummy was too intense to not do anything.

you felt yourself get close again so you pulled just a little bit harder, constricting your airways with the belt that was strapped around your neck.

it tightened the more you pulled, but it wasn’t him. your fingers fluttered around your puffy clit, frustrated with how you could almost taste your release.

you imagined it was your boyfriends tatted hands wringing your little neck and not this lousy belt. two fingers slipped into your desperate hole and you eagerly clenched around them while whining out his name, you were too impatient to wait for him to come home.

“laww—“ you cried.

you felt the blood leaving your face, your lips were turning blue but you were so so close. you couldn’t let your grip on the leather strap loosen.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

“shit. again?”

he rushed to your side to remove your makeshift noose. ‘naughty girl, couldn’t even wait for me.’ he thought.

“poor baby, you probably didn’t even get to cum.”

there was sadness in his voice but you looked so pretty for him, soft breaths and long eyelashes hanging low as you laid there peacefully.

he couldn’t help himself, he needed to be inside you. your panties were already missing and you were still so wet, your arousal stained the sheets and leaked down your limp thighs.

he positioned himself on top of you, kneeling on both sides of your still body. his fingers swiped up the length of your folds, collecting your sticky liquids.

“fuck-” his fingers lifted to his mouth as if it were muscle memory, he moaned at your sweet taste.

his already hard cock was lined up with your plush pussy, the pretty juices shined under your dim bedroom lighting. he sunk himself in all the way, lowering his face to meet the soft skin behind your ear. he filled your surroundings with his soft moans.

after filling you up, he began to move. pumping his thick cock in and out over and over again. he saw you gasp for air.

“you’re awake.” he kissed your cold cheek and continued fucking deep into you. “what did i tell you.”

the mix of being freshly woken up and the contractions pounding in your cunt had you a whimpering and moaning mess, your words were incoherent.

“i told you not to do this anymore, at least while i’m away, fuck— so dangerous y/n-ya…”

“put you hands on me, please law…” you craved his hands, they felt so good, always so cold and strong for you.

he was surprised that was your first coherent comment, actually no he wasn’t surprised at all, he knew you loved his hands.

without hesitation, his right hand met with your throat, he squeezed with just the right amount of pressure on both sides of your esophagus.

he smirked. his simple action resulted with you arching your back and whining for him, you pretty face pouring out so much pleasure.

your held your hand on his and gasped out, “cum in me baby—please please please!”

moans fled your gaping mouth, you begged for him to fill you, you wanted to cum with him so bad.

your requests weren’t ignored, his stokes quickly became very sloppy as he was reaching his own high.

“y/n-yaaaa—feel so fucking good, want me to cum in your tight cunt baby?” he teased.

the knots in your abdomen we’re getting ready to snap, the way your name escaped his lips pushed you further.

“YES!! god yes!! baby please i’m so close— gonna c-cum!” your legs shook, you couldn’t hold onto it any more. you cursed out.

“i’m right there with ya mama, gonna fill you up shit!— sucking my cock so good baby…” his voice was husky as he spoke, you knew he would cum any second, you felt the twitching deep witching your aching cunt.

you clenched around his base hard, pushing for him to cum in you, and he did. his seed filling you to the brim. he spilled everywhere, the excess dripped down your thighs and onto the already stained mattress.

“such a naughty girl. don’t let me catch you again or i’ll have no choice but to tie you up myself.”

#one piece x reader #one piece smut #trafalgar law #one piece #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law x reader #one piece scenario #law smut #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece

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riririnnnn · 7 months

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As I mentioned in my post earlier:

His cuff (that thing around his neck) is near transparent which gives us a lot of room to ponder since we don't exactly know what this chain even represent.

Taking Hiori as an example, let's suppose the chain represents the burden that holds back someone's true ego.

His cuff being transparent gives us two things:

1. It might be plastic which doesn't really make any sense if I were to be honest.

2. It is glass which makes a lot of sense because how's glass? Hell yeah, my geniuses, glass is really fragile which completely fits into what he said:

Further, in that volume cover, he has pulled down his collar which puts a lot of spotlight into his blue rose tattoo, and we all know what that tattoo symbolises for Kaiser.

In case you don't remember: Kaiser got this tattoo as a reminder to himself to never fall back into his weak mentality because Blue Rose symbolises the achievement of impossible, and he saw it as an example to turn impossible to reality since Blue Rose, itself, is artificial and defies the natural order.

What is said above can be found with a quick Google search:

But what grabbed my most attention is this panel:

WHY?

If he only wanted to push the soccer industry to despair, then why he is adamant about winning the Champions league and the World Cup?????

Also, contrary to popular beliefs, I don't actually think Kaiser has a superiority complex because, look:

What Chris said could be considered as an exaggerated way to rile someone, but isn't this, indirectly, exactly what Kaiser says after the Manshine City match ended?

Kaiser said something along the lines of, "BM's main character is Noa and it's impossible for me to be the current number one, that's why I came to NEL to use Isagi as a way to increase my value." He even went as far as to say that he is a secondary character in BM because BM is Noa's team.

I don't think so that anyone with superior complex will admit such real facts.

Further, why did he got so angry when Chris said those things? Isn't someone bound to be angrier if the other one was to point out their obvious weak point? So, does this mean, Kaiser actually got an inferior complex?

I'm not a psychologist, so I'm not dwelling too much into it.

However, there is another thing I want to point out:

So, because of that spreadsheet/official art of a very damaged soccer ball beside Kaiser's foot, the Fandom widely believes that Kaiser was poor while growing up .

BUT!

Being poor as a backstory has already been used three times: Naruhaya Asahi, Noel Noa, and Lorenzo Don.

I understand that in any sector with a lot of money and/or fame, there are many people who come from a poor economic background, but this is fiction, baby. No author wants anything be repeated to the point it feels overused.

That's why, I highly believe that Kaiser was either bullied or mistreated by his seniors when he started playing soccer which explains that he practiced fucking hard that the soccer ball was damaged, and also his supposed hatred towards the soccer industry. It also explains his long, unkempt hair because he was too indulged in practice.

OR!

It goes a bit darker, so proceed with caution:

Soccer somehow destroyed his family's peace just like the brotherhood of Itoshi brothers.

I may write about others in another post, but in this post, I would like to think that the person who destroyed his family's peace was his own father. It could be that his father was a soccer player himself and due to some circumstances, he fell off the soccer industry which took a toll on his mental health, and he started physically abusing either Kaiser, his mom or both.

Why physical abuse? Because Kaiser is shown having an affinity to choking.

If we get our minds out of the gutter, then there have been instances when he choked himself because he was frustrated. Also, didn't he say that he stroked his rose tattoo as a good luck before matches and compared it to, "as if tightening a noose," or something.

That's why, I kinda think that, AT LEAST, someone has choked Kaiser as abuse/bullying.

I'll rant about the above thing in another post tomorrow or some time later because I don't want this post to be too long, and also because I'm hungry af.

I remember a vivid dream when Kaiser threatened me to join BM.

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock theory #bllk theory #michael kaiser #雪 ranting

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bunmurdock · 4 months

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Hi bun I’m back, I sent a few niche Matt things and I wanted to know if I can be an emoji anon? If so I’d like to be 😼

Anyway another thought I have is being collared with Matt holding the leash 😝 wanna be fucked from behind with him subtly choking me with it, occasionally tugging just so he can hear me yelp 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Similarly I want him to tug on the leash while I hump his shoe, making sure I don’t lose focus on sucking his cock but my needy brain feels so fuzzy that I’m too focused on feeling good 😵‍💫

Ooh also that reminded me of how I think about him stepping on your crotch 😚 especially if you’ve been misbehaving, he pushes you down and places his shoe over your dripping pussy, slowly applying more pressure and laughing when your hips jerk and try to rub up against it

HAI lovely, absolutely you may be our resident :smirking-cat: nonnie! 🫶

oughaoehuwjsds......

okay speaking of leashes—the billy club. the metal baton with the long, extensible cable from s2. the rope around your throat, pulling you back as he thrusts into you. maybe you yelp when he tugs, anxiously begging pleaseplease that you need his help, you need him to help you cum because you can't do it on your own. but instead of obliging your clit, he tightens the noose, clutching both ends of the rod in his fist. "wanna breathe? let's see if you can't cum for it."

...you cum yourself stupid.

maybe he lifts you to your knees after that, loosens the rope around your arms and legs so you can straddle his boot while your tongue darts out under where he lazily fists his cock. maybe eventually he feeds it into your mouth, but your movements slow in your haze - you think you might be dreaming. "he's so warm.. n big.. n his dick is so big.. 🫧🎀" and before you know it, a gentle tug at your neck brings you back to the moment. he ends up cumming a lot ^—^b and it dribbles off your chin while he heaves standing over you~

btw the part where he steps on u short-circuited my brain so bad.. im imimim. i couldn't think beyond that point hbhfihbhnnmmbmdmsnninmimimbm

masterlist | share your mm fantasies

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #😼.txt #no this challenge isn't ever ending #bun’s #inbox #bunny brain #>500 words #matt murdock smut!#dark!matt #!bondage #!breathplay #!denialplay #!petplay #!oral

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inklore · 2 years

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now i haven’t seen the show so idk nothing about daemon but i do know that he is HOT and i do know that i would love to have his hand around my throat🥰 idk i think he’d like it too xx

pairing: daemon targaryen x princess!reader warnings: choking kink, insinuations of dry humping/thigh riding. etc: i’d let this man put me in my grave and smile while he covered me with dirt and i have no shame about it!!!

The smile that spreads across your lips is a threat to the man above you. A threat of what is still being put to debate in his head; the surprise evident on his features when he wrapped his fist around your neck—a show of repercussion of a teasing game you should not have been playing—pushing your backside to the cold concrete of the corridor.

You smiled.

Men and women fell to their knees before him, sacrificed the ones they loved, bedded, barely knew to save themselves from his wrath—his blade.

And you had smiled at the threat.

Princess' coward, begged for mercy, pleaded, questioned 'why them' and 'please spare me's'.

They did not wear sinful smiles upon feeling a tight grip encase the column of their neck. A sneer spoken just before that, a warning that had done the opposite of its intention. Their mouths did not hang open on a whimper when that grip tightened, having full knowledge that the man in front of them could drain the life from their corpse in a matter of minutes.

They didn't get off to the idea, to that power.

But maybe that is why Daemon liked you so. Maybe that's why his interests had peaked when he first lay eyes on you—even after you had gotten on his nerves with your games.

When your father all but offered you up on a silver platter for wolves to feast at; himself being the biggest and baddest of them all. He had saw something in you. Something unobtainable, traits in a lady that should anyone find out were there would have her hanging from a tree.

His wrist making the perfect noose.

To hang you from that dark tree of temptation. To let the unobtainable be contained by his own doing. His own hands.

"Does it feel good?" Daemon asks. Brings his lips hovering above yours as his fingers dig into your neck, that whimper finally releasing itself from your lungs.

The nod you give him is all it takes to chisel away what's left of the resilience he had been holding on to to behave. To not take a bite of the tempting fruit that you were.

He's in enough trouble.

But when has he ever denied himself something as delicious as this? Especially when it looked as devouring as you did playing innocence for all to see but devilishly guilty when only his eyes were looking.

Something that felt this inviting and heavy on the hardness of his cock the more it grew with the desire to lay you out below him, and peel back every dark layer you may have, every seed that might match his; was not something you kept yourself from.

He was never a man of self control to start with anyway.

Daemon pushes his knee between your legs, his free hand pulling your skirts up enough to have the heat of your cunt pressing at his clothed thigh. "By all means then Princess, take what you need." He smirks down at you, running his thigh along your heat.

#daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen one shot #daemon targaryen x fem!reader #daemon targaryen x reader smut #daemon targaryen fic #house of the dragon smut #thots !

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turtlecleric · 7 months

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What Did I Do?

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Rise!Raph x Reader - NSFW with HEAVY ANGST - I'm serious, there is so much hurt and NO comfort. This is not a spicy fic with a twist at the end to make it all better. No one has a good time in this. HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS. (3403 words)

CWs: kidnapping, being drugged/forced into an altered state of mind, FORCED NON CON, shock torture, blood, murder

This is your last warning - please take care of yourself and skip this if these topics are uncomfortable for you! Especially my dears on the tag list, please please please ignore this one if these topics are upsetting!!

---

When Raphael wakes, the first thing he notices is a smell. He can’t quite place it, but it's everywhere, and it makes something stir deep in his gut, makes something primal and dangerous thrum in his veins. He has to push it down to even try focusing on anything else.

The second thing he notices is a sound. A sort of… whirring. Or maybe humming? He isn’t quite sure. The smell is really, really distracting.

Wait, what’s happening again? Where is he?

His eyes blink open. Metal ceiling. Metal floor. Metal walls. And to his right, there’s a metal table with-

No. Oh, no.

Adrenaline floods through him, memories of the fight before the tranquilizers took him down flashing in his mind. He struggles to coordinate his limbs, tries to push himself up and fails. He falls once, twice. Again. Again. He can’t think straight, can’t use his muscles like he should. When he finally manages to stand and stumble over to the table, sick horror wraps around his throat and tightens like a noose.

You’re on your back, naked except for the ropes wrapped around you and some sort of… metal collar around your neck. Arms tied behind you, legs bent and bound so that your calves are flush against the underside of your thighs. There’s a ball gag in your mouth, and a machine is steadily pumping an enormous dildo in and out of you. It’s the whirring of this machine that he was hearing when he woke up, and the smell, he realizes, is you. The smell of your slick, your sweat, your tears and spit running down your face, and then he recognizes the smell of blood-

Raph reaches for you and pulls you away from the machine carefully. Thankfully there’s nothing stopping him from doing so, but once you’re in his arms he can feel how much you’re shaking. Can see how unfocused your eyes are as tears stream steadily down the sides of your face. You’re not reacting to him. Even when he says your name, there’s no recognition, no change in your eyes. There’s only fear.

A man’s voice sounds from everywhere at once.

“We’ve been stretching her out for you. Preparing her for this.”

Raph feels his horror mix with rage. Confusion. Desperation. This is- this is sick. Whatever is happening, whatever these fuckers want, it doesn’t matter. He’s getting you out. He holds you closer to his plastron and reaches for his ninpo, tries to to breathe through the heaviness in his limbs and the fog in his brain. Latches on to his rage like a lifeline, and he’s pleasantly surprised to see red sparks start running up and down his arms.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Raph bares his teeth at the ceiling, looking around for a window, a security camera, anything. There’s nothing. Just metal. “As if I’m listening to you,” he snarls. “I don’t care who you are, when I find you I’m going to rip you limb from limb for this.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Suddenly you’re jerking in his arms, every muscle in your body tensing as guttural screams rip from your throat, muffled by the gag in your mouth. The sparks along Raph’s arms disappear as he panics and reaches for the collar around your neck. When he tries to pry it off of you, your shrieking and twisting worsen, and he pulls his hand away like he’s been burned. “Stop, stop, please,” he begs, turning his face to the ceiling. “Okay, I’m stopping, I’m not doing anything, please!”

You choke, and then your body relaxes, still trembling but no longer convulsing like before. You let out a whimper with every exhale, your chest heaving with sobs as you struggle to breathe. It’s like a gaping wound in his chest, how he feels listening to the sounds you’re making. A sharp drag of claws across the inside of his ribcage. He shakes his head weakly, watching your eyes flutter, watching you shudder as he holds you in his arms helplessly. He leans down to press his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. He can smell something burning, and when he lifts his head and looks at you more closely he realizes it must be your skin beneath the collar. The rage is still there - suffocating, overwhelming - but what can he do that won’t end with you hurting more?

“What do you want?” Raph grits out.

“I want more of you,” the voice says, seemingly bored. “It’s my job to ensure the earth’s protection, and we need some kind of contingency plan if another invasion happens. I saw how your family stepped up ten years ago with the krang. With how powerful you four are, I can only imagine how powerful any offspring would be when raised and trained properly.”

The words hit Raphael like a truck. His jaw drops, his eyes falling to your face as he tries to process the fucked up implications in them. He thinks he might actually throw up. Then a hissing sound pulls his attention, and he looks up to see that holes have appeared in the ceiling. There’s the unmistakable shimmer in the air around them that means they’re blowing some sort of gas into the room.

“We’ve noticed that you and your brothers don’t have naturally occurring mating seasons. Don’t worry, we’ve prepared for that, as well.”

The rage and panic threaten to overwhelm him completely. He’s shaking now, as well, clenching his jaw so tight he just might crack a tooth with the force of it, and almost immediately the effects of the gas hit him. His vision goes a little hazy, that stirring in his gut from earlier returning a hundred times worse. Suddenly, the feeling of you in his arms makes his chest rumble with a churr, and the smell of you has his eyes roll back in his head.

NO.

Raph shakes his head violently, his entire body shuddering as he places you gently on the floor. He needs to get away from you. Now. He stumbles to the far corner of the room, trying to breathe through the way his body is- his body is- is-

Wait. What's happening again?

He was… fighting something? Or- or resisting… something… but… he turns, taking in the sight of the room. You're here? You're here with him, and he doesn't see a threat or… it's just you. You, you, you, that's all he can think about. He can smell you. He can smell- fuck, you smell amazing. He can't quite… focus…

His mate. His mate is here. That's all that matters. You're here, and you're his, and…

Right?

Wait, this isn't… No. No, he has to stay away from you. This is all so fucked up, this isn't right. You haven't agreed to any of this, he shouldn't…

Every breath makes it harder to think. The smell of you is everywhere. His body is one enormous, pulsing heartbeat. He can't think. He can't-

Why isn't he holding you? Kissing you? You smell like sex, and you're his, so why isn't he fucking you right now? Why isn't he- he swivels, disoriented, seeking you out. There. You're right there, waiting for him. Ready and open and wet, just for him.

No, no, this is all wrong. Isn't it? Something is wrong. Raph tries to shake his head again, desperately tries, tries, tries to remember what's happening, to stay present in his own mind, but his thoughts are so goddamn scattered. He feels himself slipping, but he doesn't know how. There's this pull that he feels in every part of him, this need to be near you. Touch you. Hold you.

Why isn't he---

The relief is staggering when he cradles you against his plastron. You're warm in his arms. Smell so good. Why did he ever leave you? He should stay with you always, his perfect, pretty little mate. Pretty and warm and soft. He'll take care of you. Fill you up, fuck pretty little babies into you. You're already wet and ready for him, perfect, his, his, his, and- oh. The sound you make when he presses himself inside you only makes his spine tingle more. You feel so fucking good around him. Taking him like you were meant to, perfect thing just for him. Pretty noises, pretty mate, so pretty beneath him. He gets lost in the feeling of you clenching around him, writhing beneath him. You're perfect. Tight and wet and so, so-

Why are you screaming?

He can't stop rutting into you, but he does manage to slow the movement of his hips just a bit. Maybe he's going too fast. It's okay. It's okay, he'll take care of you, pretty girl. You're his. Nobody can hurt you when he's here. He'll go slower. Be more careful. He rubs his snout against your forehead, churrs a little louder. It's okay.

There's this burning smell peeking through the heavy scent of sex now that his snout is pressed against your throat. Burning and blood. But it's only him and you - no danger that he can see. No threats. He licks along your jaw. Nuzzles into your ear. But it's not enough, because you're still screaming, but you're safe? It's only him here. So why- he can't remember wh-

Hissing. Something is. Hissing.

You feel so good. You're so good. Good mate. Pretty, perfect thing. Letting him breed you, letting him-

Why are you crying? Why does he smell so much blood? He can't think. Can't focus past the haze in his mind and the fire in his belly and the way you feel so goddamn good around his cock. He can't- fuck, he can't help but lose himself in the feeling of fucking you.

But you- you're-

Something is wrong. You shouldn't be making those sounds. Like you're in pain, like you…

His perfect mate. It's okay. He'll take care of you. Protect you. No one will hurt you, it's okay. It's okay.

When you go competely still and quiet beneath him, his churr makes something metallic in the room rattle. You just needed time to adjust. Perfect, pretty little thing, just needed some time. Even when he starts to go faster, harder than before, you're still and quiet. Such a perfect, pretty thing taking him so well. Good mate. So good for him. Just for him, you're his, and he's going to take care of you.

The third release he spills inside of you lifts the fog enough for him to realize that your eyes are closed. Your face is slack. He starts to pull back, confusion and concern cutting through the waves of pleasure, but then there's a hissing sound. A shimmer in the air.

What was he…

You feel so good around him.

---

This Bishop guy isn't going to give them anything useful. Leo can already tell. They've only just finished tying him up and started asking questions, but Leo has learned over the years who will and won't talk. He's just spouting bullshit about protecting the earth, making necessary sacrifices, blah blah blah. And while they play at interrogation, these government guys could be doing anything to Raph. They don't have the luxury of time.

Leo turns his focus to the wall of computers and buttons behind Bishop, instead, and nods toward it. “Dee.”

Donnie sweeps past Bishop, reaching out and connecting his ninpo to the tech there. The room lights up purple, and then Donnie speaks. “Tracker was accurate. Raph is just on the other side of this wall.” One of the screens comes to life, a live feed showing the hulking figure of their brother hunched over something on the floor. They can't see his face, but the relief of seeing him clearly alive is enough to relax Leo's shoulders a bit. Still. Raph is… he's moving strangely. Almost like… “There's several safety measures in place to prevent a breach, plus some sort of gas they've been pumping in there and a remote connection to a shock collar. I've disabled all of them.”

Donnie goes on to say something about applying a virus that will shut down the mainframe for good and erase any and all information that's even remotely related to them. Leo flicks his eyes back to Bishop, smirking when he sees the man's lips and brow twitch. He's annoyed. Good. In a different situation, Leo might have fun making this bastard regret every decision he's made that led him to this moment. But they have more important things to worry about.

“Alright,” Leo says. “Let's get him out of-”

Bishop scoffs suddenly. Mikey winces in Leo's peripheral vision, knowing what's coming when Leo pauses. Waits.

“You think it's over? I've got plans, mutant. Big plans. The snapper is just the beginning.”

The rage simmers beneath Leo's scales, but he's long since learned how to breathe past that. He crouches and holds Bishop's gaze, studying what he sees there, and when Leo speaks again, his voice is flat. “You're a smart guy, Bishop.”

“Not smart enough to keep his mouth shut,” Donnie mumbles dryly. Leo continues.

“I'm sure you do have plans. But if you wanted to live long enough to see them through-” Bishop opens his mouth to reply, but before he can make a sound, Leo snaps his neck. “-then you never should've fucked with my family.”

Mikey makes a sound of discomfort behind him. Another nod from Leo, and Donnie summons an array of lasers that makes the wall in front of them turn to ash.

Leo waits for the dust to clear before he steps through the opening. Immediately, the smell of sex and blood hits him. It's overwhelming, but still Leo manages to keep his wits about him and - there. He's found his missing brother.

Raphael stares at them, his eyes completely white. His lips are tinged with red, his bloody teeth bared, and he's hunched protectively over something. A deep growl shakes the room and sends a shiver up Leo's spine. Savage, then. Whether from being alone or something else, Leo doesn't know. Yet. Donnie kept a copy of the records before destroying them, he's sure. For now, he needs to focus on helping Raph.

Leo raises his hands in a placating gesture, but the growling doesn't stop. Leo feels the movement of Donnie and Mikey behind him, fanning out on either side. Giving plenty of space so that Raph doesn't feel trapped, so that-

“Oh my god,” Mikey whispers somewhere to Leo's right. “Oh my god, Leo, it's-”

Raph shifts, and Leo spots you in the same moment that Mikey says your name. Horror rushes through him at the sight of you, and all at once Leo realizes what's happened.

He let Bishop off too easy.

“Mikey, get him away from her,” Leo barks, mind racing. “I'll portal him home once they're separated, then I'll portal you after him. Make sure he doesn't hurt himself, and try to bring him back. Donnie, distract Raph first, then I need you to focus on her.”

With grunts of affirmation, they move together. Raph's wild eyes jump between them as they circle around him. His growl gets impossibly louder, making the very floor beneath their feet vibrate. Leo waits until they're in position. Takes a breath.

“Now!”

Donnie feints forward, pulling Raph's attention and making him lunge. Glowing chains shoot out and wrap around his limbs, his plastron, his neck, catching him and holding him back, just inches away from Donnie. The resulting roar makes Leo's bones rattle, and for a moment he's afraid the mystic chains might snap from the force of his older brother straining against them. They hold, though, as they always do, and Mikey grunts as he pulls Raph far enough away that Donnie can safely make it to your side.

When Raph sees Donnie run toward you, red sparks start to jump along his body. He's not quite there enough to direct his ninpo, Leo notes, but it's enough to make things harder for Mikey. More chains wrap around Raph, Mikey grunting from the effort of containing him, as Leo slices open a portal beneath Raph's feet. As soon as Raph is through, Leo slams it closed and opens another for Mikey, who hops through with a determined nod and grim expression.

Okay. Now to focus on you. Leo runs to your side, sliding to his knees so he can start helping Donnie, but the sight of you up close makes him hesitate. You're naked, bound with ropes, and a ball gag is sitting off to the side. Leo can see the deep bruises it left around your mouth and across your face.

How could they do this to you?

Leo tries to focus, to slip into medic mode, but then he sees the blood and semen pooling between your legs, and oh my god, that's what he saw Raph doing on the monitor-

Focus. Focus.

You're unconscious. Covered in bites and scratches and bruises. Nothing deep enough for you to bleed out, though there's one on your shoulder that will probably need stitches.

Oh God. The horror swells again when Donnie gingerly pulls a metal collar away from your neck. The sight and smell of your burnt flesh is enough to make Donnie turn away and retch. Leo can't look away. He can't.

When Donnie turns back, there's a moment where both brothers are frozen. Leo glances up, finally tearing his eyes away from you, to share a look with Donnie. Leo wonders if he looks as haunted as his brother.

Focus.

Leo unsheaths one of his swords and starts to cut through the ropes that bind your legs, then asks Donnie to lift your torso so that he can cut through those, as well. Lines of black bruises and tacky blood trails criss-cross over your skin, and Leo can't help but think about how you've been missing for six days. How long did they have you tied up like this? Raph had only just gone missing yesterday, but…

How long had he been-

“I'll have to get more bandages,” Leo says, voice shaky. “We don't have enough for all this in the medbay. I'll portal you two home then meet you there once I've-”

“Leo,” Donnie murmurs. His tone makes Leo's chest tighten, makes his blood turn to ice. “We can't take her to the lair. She needs a hospital. The scans that I- She- she's gonna need surgery.”

Bishops's words echo in Leo's mind. Necessary sacrifices.

“Yeah,” Leo chokes, blinking rapidly and wishing he had something to cover you with. You hate showing too much skin. You… He takes a shuddering breath and cuts a small portal into the air. Reaches through, pulls a blanket through before closing it. “Yeah. Okay. I'll- I'll take her to a hospital.”

Donnie helps him wrap you in the blanket - careful, Nardo, one of her hips is dislocated - before Leo sends him home through a portal, as well. Cradling you close against his plastron, Leo pushes down the whirlwind of emotions and presses his forehead to yours. After he takes you to the hospital and makes sure you're taken care of, he'll come back to this wretched place.

At least Mikey won't have to watch this time when he kills every single person in this fucking building.

---

Hours later, Leo finally portals back to the lair. Washes the last of the blood from his hands, his body, his swords. Gives Donnie an update - none left alive; you're still in surgery - before he receives one of his own.

In the garage, Donnie says, avoiding Leo's gaze. They're in the garage.

Leo sees them before they see him. Raph sits in the middle of the floor, surrounded by the remnants of the destroyed room. Mikey kneels beside him, speaking softly, gently washing Raph's still-bloodied hands with a damp towel, and Leo doesn't want to do this. God, he doesn't want to-

“Leo?”

Raph's voice is so small that Leo almost misses it. Mikey's quiet words and careful hands stop, and the silence rings louder than the static in Leo's tympanum. Both brothers watch Leo with solemn expressions as he slowly approaches, and Leo knows he should say something but…

Say something. Say something.

“Leo,” Raph whispers, his face pale and eyes glassy with fear. “What did I do?”

---

tag list: @yorshie @khayalli @thejudiciousneurotic @luckycharms1701 @mxalmighty @thelaundrybitch @justalotoffanfiction

#turtlecleric scrolls #rise!raph #non con

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crowleys-bentley-and-plants · 3 months

Text

The Puppeteer

Would you still hold me, the way that you do

If you knew the desperate, deadly truth?

Would you still make me your perfect demise?

Would you still take me, live in my lies?

Would you still whisper sweet nothings to me,

If you saw the scars that I hide silently?

Would you still cherish the fragments of me,

A mosaic mirror of what used to be?

An Elysian pyre that you built from my bones

All garbled, deformed, a puppet you own

Made to be burned till nothing remains

But a hollow husk covered in chains

A marionette tangled in its own crippled strings

Dancing to tunes of your imaginings

A true masterpiece, the best of your art

Yet missing the beat of its own tender heart

But perhaps you prefer this distorted reflection,

A canvas of flaws, your cherished affection

A tragic illusion, what more do you seek

Than a broken soul that you can keep?

I’m choked by your love, your lethal embrace

A noose tightening around my grace

So am I destined to forever be,

A reflection of what you wish to see?

i had to alter this poem a bit to make it about good omens so i could post it but know that there is a version of this poem that is even worse than this one

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated💙

read also on ao3:

bonjourr @crowleys-hips @bearthewhipsandscornsoftime @fearandhatred @ghostsparrow @eybefioro @seven-stars-in-his-palm @ficreader500 @foolishlovers @sabotage-on-mercury @crowleys-curl @crowleybrekkers @notagoodlad @lickthecowhappy @goodoldfashionednightingale @spookyllamatree @wanderer-main @ineffabildaddy @wibbly-wobbly-blog @marika-misc @captainblou @weasleywrinkles @chaoticgayomens @amagnificentobsession @thebookshoparoundthecorner @quintessentiallychemical

let me know if you want to be added or removed

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens poem #original poem #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #go2

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shellxrls · 8 months

Note

i need to say something really controversial 😔

i kinda want coryo to hang me, not kill me but hang me just for funsies. like dark!coryo (politician) has you as his little plaything, idk if you did something or he’s just being cruel but he ties a noose around your neck and sets you on a wobbly stool. you’re crying, pleading with him, he mocks you and shows faux concern before he leaves the room, walking back to his office. obv there are cameras in the room you’re in (he doesn’t really want you to die) if you fall he’d go back and let you down. anyway i don’t know how to continue after this i’m concerned for my mental state but oh well.

- 🎀

cw; snuff

ANONNN BABEEE I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH. i’m not sure if i’ve said this publicly or just to one of my friends, but i’ve always though that one of the best methods of snow snuffing reader wld have to be him hanging them. i actually even mentioned it in one line in this fic but since it wasn’t the main idea i didn’t elaborate.

sure it’s less intimate, but something about him tying the noose and picking the rope, tightening and loosening it in however way he feels suits your behaviour - ugh it rlly gets to me. he has your life in his hands and yet he can’t even be bothered to literally hold it in his hands (re: kill you by choking you or hitting you) - he’ll let an inanimate object attempt to do the job while he leisurely goes along his work, you’re just that worthless to him.

#asks.ᐟ ⋆｡˚𖦹 #;🎀 anon #;prompts #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x reader smut #tbosas #president snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow blurb

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3-2-whump · 7 months

Text

Rescue: The Informant, Part Three

Because You Want to See a Conclusion on This Story, Right?

<prev

TW/CW: captive whumpee, imprisoned whumpee, torture aftermath, mention of religion (unspecified), degradation, implied noncon, not necessarily suicidal ideation but a morbid acceptance of death, uncertain fate of a character

The first thing he woke up to was the smell of smoke in the darkness. He stirred lightly on the concrete beneath him, cracking his eyes open and instantly regretting it. Smoke and heat were seeping through the crack at the bottom of the cell door, and there was already enough to sting his eyes and burn his lungs. He coughed, then wildly scrabbled his broken fingers against the collar on his neck, desperate to find a buckle or a clasp or something to unlatch it from the chain mounted above him. He heard the muffled sound of crackling flames, firing bullets, and screams beyond the door. His increasing panic made the collar and leash tighten like a noose, slowly choking him along with the smoke pouring in-

Wait, why are you fighting this? It’s over. His hands fell limply away from his neck.

It’s over. It’s finally over. This is how you die.

The closet grew hotter and stuffier with the fire encroaching and the smoke rising in, yet he was calm as he closed his eyes and positioned his sore body back-first against the wall. Never in his worst nightmares did he ever think he’d have to say the Liturgy of the Dead for himself, but a lot had transpired in merely two months, and his worst nightmares had come true.

I’m sorry, if You’re listening, he cried with his whole heart, I’m sorry I wasn’t enough. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. He opened his mouth and moved his lips reverently, his raspy voice soon following. “We gather here, Oh Great One, Divine, to mourn the passing of-”

The door broke down and interrupted his prayers. His eyes snapped open just in time to see an unfamiliar figure clad head to toe in black rush towards him. “Whumpee!”

Who?

Oh yeah, me! It had been so long since anyone had ever called him something other than ‘scum,’ ‘bastard,’ ‘fuck toy,’ ‘holes,’ etc., that he had almost forgotten his own name. The man crouching by his side pulled down his mask, showing him a familiar face he could not exactly recall. This man’s brows furrowed with concern as he brushed his tangled hair out of his eyes and cupped his face in his hands.

“You’re okay, we’re okay,” he murmured, “I’m getting you out of here.” The man’s eyes flashed towards the chain bolted to the wall above them, then to the collar on Whumpee’s throat. He turned his head and yelled outside the door. “Hey! Bring me the axe!”

Another man, Lieutenant, came in wielding a heavy, suspiciously red and wet-looking axe in both hands, pausing as he rushed to the first man’s side. “What the –Leader, what happened to him?”

Leader? Team Leader? Unbidden memories of a friendly face smiling at him and comforting arms holding him close flooded Whumpee’s mind.

“Swing at the wall where the chain is mounted,” Team Leader directed.

Another friendly face and set of comforting arms flickered across Whumpee’s mind. “W-wait, where’s Caretaker?” he murmured. “He’s one of them, but-”

Team Leader shushed him. “We know, we know. Save your strength. Let’s worry about you right now, okay?” Notably, he didn’t look Whumpee in the eye.

“But, Caretaker-”

Two well-directed swings of the axe were all it took to sever the chain from the wall. Without wasting any time at all, Team Leader scooped Whumpee into his arms. “-Is fine. He’s fine,” he insisted, hoisting him up to a standing positon. Again, he could not meet Whumpee’s eyes. “Now, can you walk?” Team Leader asked, casting a concerned look to his mangled feet.

Is this a dream? Am I dead? Is any of this really happening? This is a lot to take in.

Whumpee tiredly shook his head. Wordlessly, his captain took the axe out of the big guy’s hands and slung it over his shoulder as Lieutenant picked up Whumpee gently to carry him. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” Team Leader said. “We got who we came for.”

Against the chest of the bigger man who carried him, Whumpee let his eyes close and his body relax. Whether this was a hallucination before death, or an actual rescue, at least it meant this nightmare was over. That was enough for him right now.

Le Taglist: @whumperofworlds @whumped-by-glitter

#whump writing #captive whumpee #whump #torture mention #team whump #tw death ideation/acceptance #tw uncertain fate of a character #tw religion mention #tw implied noncon

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strawberrychampayne · 2 days

Text

hi guys!! so back in March I got super into The Hunger Games. So much so that I started writing a Finnick fic. I was going to post here but got scared and posted on Wattpad at the time. I wanted to post something that I wrote here! I haven't updated that fic in forever I couldn't watch the movies anymore lol! Anyways let me know what you guys think!!

word count: 1183

this was originally an oc but I changed it just for Tumblr!

Y/N was working with the rope, trying to tie the perfect knot. It was something she struggled with. At home, she would have to triple check the knots she tied so a boat didn't float away. It had happened before.

She was playing with a new knot technique when Finnick came up behind her. His breath fanning across the back of her neck. His arms encasing her as he took hold of her hands.

"Here." He said, grabbing her waist when she jumped. A small laugh left his body. Slowly, he dragged his hands back to the rope. Y/N's face burned.

"I'm sorry, really sorry." He said though no remorse was present on his face. "Let me show you the best knot to know in the arena."

He was leaning his back against the table, looking at her with a glimmer in his eyes she'd never seen before. A feeling she hadn't felt in a while creeping up on her, making her body warm. Her eyes focused on his face.

"Don't look at me, look at the knot." He said, laughing. "Alright, this is the bit where it get complicated."

His hands moved with ease. Moving to tie the knot like he'd done it a million times. Maybe he had.

What he did next caught her off guard. Bringing the knot up she realized he had tied a noose. Pulling it over his head, he tightened it pretending it was choking him.

"Funny." she said, giving him a look.

"Do you want to take me for a walk?" He asked, moving to give her the rope.

Grabbing it she pulled him in. Her lips almost touching his, and finally she saw him crack. A blush was appearing on his face. She had the upper hand. Taking one hand she dragged it down his torso, nails scratching him.

"Maybe some other time, Finn. You know, when nobody else is around?" She said smirking before pulling away. Subconsciously his face tried to follow hers. Almost like a magnet, but she turned away.

"I've got work to do Finnick and so do you." She said, smirking over her shoulder.

"Yeah Y/N." He replied, slightly breathless. His head was a daze as he watched the sway of her hips as she left.

She felt eyes on her as she walked. Maybe it was because they had witnessed that whole thing, or maybe it was because they knew what she was capable of.

Y/N examined the other Victors. Watching to see what they all were talented in and where they lacked some.

Cashmere and Gloss were throwing knives at holograms. Johanna was swinging an axe around like a mad woman. Everyone was doing their own thing.

Y/N had found a spot near the tridents and spears. They had updated the training center a lot. There was now a simulator that allowed for different levels to be tried.

She set it to as high as it could go. She needed a challenge. Walking in with a spear in hand she took her place in the center. The first two came running at her from different sides. Leaning down she allowed one to take the other out and then she stabbed the second in the back.

Another came running from above her. Leaping in the air to land on top of her. She was quicker and launched the spear into the head of the hologram "killing it." Then she ran to grab it.

Two more came, one from above her and one on the same ground as her. She acted quickly as a holographic spear came at her. She dodged it by throwing her head back and then she launched her spear. Not having time to go grab it, she evaded the second holograms punches before grabbing it's head and snapping its neck.

With a few more holograms being taken out she had beaten it. Sweat was collecting on her brow and she knew she'd have to take a long shower after this.

Turning around she noticed a crowd had formed. Katniss and Finnick being the ones in front. She walked out with her head held high and stood next to Finnick, infront of Katniss.

"You should try it Katniss. It's honestly kind of fun." Y/N said, smiling softly at her. She didn't know why she was so soft with the young girl, maybe it's something she saw in her.

Katniss stared at her for a moment. Before walking in. Y/N watched as she set it 2 below what she had chosen. The girl on fire wanted a challenge.

Y/N noted how the girl skillfully took down her first few with her arrows. Her focus was lost however when she heard a whisper next to her.

"Del, I didn't think you could get more attractive then you already were. You proved me wrong, that might have been the sexiest thing I have ever seen." Finnick quietly said to her. The crowd was still around. Prying eyes were watching Katniss as she killed more and more with ease.

Y/N turned towards him slightly, giving him a look. A smile crept its way onto her face and her cheeks heated up. She didn't (couldn't) form a sentence after that. Why was he being so flirty all of a sudden? It was in his nature to flirt with people even those he was friends with but this felt different.

Turning back she saw Katniss beat the final hologram and successfully complete the level. Y/N felt proud of the girl. She knew she could hold her own, people just didn't seem to understand her yet.

As Katniss walked out, Y/N left Finnicks side. Rubbing her hand on his forearm as a way to say goodbye and make her way to the girl.

"That was amazing. You're so skilled." Y/N said.

She had finally gotten a genuine smile out of the girl, "Thank you."

A beat of silence had passed and then Katniss spoke up again. "I saw you volunteer for that young girl. That was really brave."

"Annie is one of my best friends back home. She deserves nothing but good things. It was the least I could do."

"Prim was my sister. If you teach me how to make a fish hook like the ones from your district I could teach you how to hunt." Katniss said throwing the girl another smile.

"Sure, thank you." Y/N began to explain how to make the fish hook. Katniss caught on quickly and learned within 20 minutes. Then they moved on to hunting.

"You want to try with me?" Katniss questioned her.

"I'd rather watch first."

"Okay, I'll go first."

She watched as the girl reentered the simulation. Y/N could pay attention better now. Katniss moved with grace.

Y/N had her second turn, this time with a bow. She wasn't as skilled with this weapon but she ended up beating the level switfly.

Before she and Finnick left the center she thanked Katniss for everything. She could feel a friendship blossoming.

#finnick odair #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #hunger games finnick #x reader #fanfic

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fuckmelifesucks · 1 year

Text

You Saw

Pair: Elriel {For Elriel Month 2023}

Summary: Elain pours her heart out to Azriel.

Warning: Angsty, no specific POV so kinda messy.

Words: 3.6k

Characters: ACOTAR; Sarah J Mass.

~~~~~

“I did it.”

The soft murmur was heard from the doorway of the living room in the empty Townhouse. He stilled, every muscle in his body going taut as the soft words floated over to where he stood in front of the unlit fireplace. He registered the words, mulling over the meaning behind them. She did it. Had she done what he thought she had? Or was he getting ahead of himself? She couldn’t possibly have done what he thought she had.

No, she wou –

All thoughts ceased as he turned to face her. His mind went silent at the look on her face as she stood there, chest heaving and cheeks red. It was the look of utter relief. The look of finally doing something one was too afraid to do, thinking that there would be severe consequences. It was the look of relief he knew he once donned himself when he had been released from the shackles of that prison of his childhood –that small dark room where the very shadows became his only friend.

The shadows that twirled around him stilled as well. For a moment, nothing moved, as if the whole world itself held its breath to see what came next.

“What?” The word came out so low, he wondered if she even heard him.

Elain took a step into the room, then another and another until she was well over halfway in, her dress of soft pinks and violets rasping behind her, so at odds with the dark leathers that he donned and the shadows that surrounded him, circling his hands and weaving through his fingers, the massive wings that peeked over his shoulders imposingly.

“I did it. I talked to him. I told him – ” She paused, gulping around the thick ball of emotions lodged in her throat, hands clenching the fabric of her dress into fists, “I told Lucien that I did not want him. That I could not be with him and that I wanted to break –reject the bond. I wanted to break it even, if that were possible.”

Azriel didn’t know what to say, what to do with his clenched hands and tight jaw, what to do with his mouth full of cotton and head heavy as lead, his wings tucked tightly against his back. So he stared. Stared as he had so many times before when he thought no one was looking. Stared with the same longing that tightened around his chest like a vice and the same pain that choked him like a noose wrung around his neck every time he was reminded that he could not have her, that she was mated to another. That didn’t seem to deter Elain much as she went on.

“We talked, really talked about everything. He told me how he was happy in the human lands with Vassa and Julian and I told him how I was happy here, in the Night Court, with my family. I told him how I felt like I finally had found a purpose for myself. I told him everything that I felt ever since the bond snapped into place. And – ” She took in a breath, as if to collect her raging emotions, “I told him that I could never feel for him the way the bond wanted us to feel for one another. I told him that I could never give him my heart. And that with me, he would always be miserable. We would both be miserable if ever we were to accept the bond.”

She took another step in Azriel’s direction, watching him stand there, as still as a magnificently beautiful statue. Though, his shadows belied him, dashing from one spot to another, swirling in tight circles, clinging to him, as if to help hold him together. His wings flexed.

“And Lucien – ” The backs of her eyes burned and Elain was sure the tips of her pointed ears were glaringly red, “ –agreed.”

The breath was knocked out of Azriel’s chest as she uttered those words in a gentle voice of relief. In a tone that felt like the spring finally coming after a cold, harsh winter. He couldn’t seem to grasp what she was saying and yet he could.

She had decided to reject her bond with the Autumn Fox. For a moment he felt like he was still asleep, passed out from sheer exhaustion and that this was one of the many torturous dreams that made him never want to wake up from his slumber again. He almost pinched himself to make sure.

“We agreed to reject the mating bond together,” Elain said softly, her doe eyes flickering.

Elain watched Azriel finally move, taking a few steps towards her, eating up far more distance between them with only a few strides. She wanted him closer. Wanted for him to rush toward her and pull her impossibly close to him. Wanted for him to wrap her up in his arms and cocoon them in his wings and kiss her until she was breathless and then kiss her some more.

“Why?” There was not a crack of emotion on his face as the syllables left his mouth. Though, Elain knew him. She saw him and saw beyond that hard unmoving mask he so often hid behind. She saw the uncertainty. Not in her or in them, but in himself. Elain felt her heart burn for him.

Azriel watched Elain tilt her head slightly, a small furrow between her brows and thought to elaborate, “Why can you never feel for him that way? Why can you not give him your heart?”

Deep down, he knew the answer all too well and yet he needed to ask her, needed to hear it from her own mouth, in that sweet, delicate voice of hers that felt like feathers softly gliding down his skin. Like a cool salve to his injured heart. He needed to hear her say it to believe it for self-doubt always gnawed at his insides like termites.

Elain let out a soft breath of air, “Because… I only have one heart and it already belongs to someone else.”

Blood rushed to Azriel’s ears and for a heartbeat, he couldn’t hear anything other than the pounding in them. He said nothing but the small distance that separated them held enough tension that even a blind person could feel it. Behind him, his shadows lashed out in a frenzy, some dancing, some gliding, some rushing, some darting around. He resisted the urge to spread his wings –peacocking them, as Elain so very generously liked to put it.

He felt so much and yet, not a single thing showed on his unmoving face as Elain gazed at him. He was feeling far too much and he didn’t know what to do. And so, unknowingly, he let that mask of icy stillness that he wore so often to hide the turmoil within him fall into place. He had never been good with such feelings and emotions, after all.

And yet, Elain saw right through it. No matter what mask he hid behind, somehow, Elain always saw through and looked solely into the Azriel hidden beneath. Her brows furrowed as she took a step closer to him, tilting her head once more, though no milky sheen took over her eyes as it did whenever the Seer within her came out.

“Take your mask off when you are with me,” She said in a soft but firm whisper of honey and jasmine.

Azriel blinked, and then a moment later, all that he felt, the surprise, the relief, the happiness, the uncertainty, the self-doubt, the worry, crossed over his eyes like white clouds passing over a field, turning grey as a storm brewed. He let that mask drop and laid himself bare for Elain to see. To see what he’d never let anyone get a glimpse of. He let her see all that he was and all that he felt – his emotions wrecking him from within.

“Oh, Azriel…” The sound of his name from her lips threatened to leave him undone, “Had you really thought I could ever leave you behind for a bond that I didn’t even want?”

Sorrow coated her doe-brown eyes as she neared him, stopping only when there was barely any space between the two. Elain watched as the shadows that so tightly wound around him backed away, instead circling the two of them in a ball. She bit her lip as she brought a hand up to cup Azriel’s cheek, soothing a thumb across his honey-brown skin.

“Did you really think that I could give my heart to anyone but –” Her voice wavered at the anguish in his eyes, “ –but you?”

Had anyone ever chosen Azriel the way she chose him? Had anyone ever been willing to give up something as sacred as a mating bond only for him? Azriel knew the answer to those questions and felt like he was going to break into a million pieces right there, only to have Elain pick each one up and put him back together with her loving hands that took such care of him just because she wanted to.

He parted his lips and yet nothing came out. Thoughts swirled like a hurricane in his mind and yet he couldn’t seem to open his mouth and word them. He feared that the hurricane might just sweep him up within it and leave him lost and ruined. But one look at that soft face of Elain and her knowing gaze always pulled him back. He watched her eyes flicker and knew that she knew all that he wanted to say and yet couldn’t know how to.

Azriel knew he was done for. Knew that his heart solely belonged to the soft and gentle yet fierce middle Archeron sister. Knew that he would carve out his own heart and present it to her on a platter of gold if only she asked. He fell to his knees then, feeling heavy in body and in soul, his legs feeling useless as they refused to support his weight upright as such emotions threatened to consume him whole.

A soft gasp left Elain’s lips as Azriel fell to his knees before her, his head bowed and shoulders hunched, wings lying limp behind him. And in that moment, Elain couldn’t find it in herself to see the fabled Shadowsinger or the feared and ruthless Spymaster of the Night Court in the male before her. In that moment, all she could see was the scared little boy in that cold and dark room, who suffered through what no child should’ve gone through. In that moment, he seemed so impossibly small and vulnerable. Elain felt her heart shatter for the boy who was never loved the way he deserved to be loved.

She was kneeling in front of him in a heartbeat as the organ within her chest threatened to burst out. He refused to meet her eyes as Elain took hold of his hands, stroking the rough ridges on the backs of them in gentle caresses. Azriel’s throat tightened and it felt like someone had shoved thorns into his mouth. His eyes burned as dams of emotions thrashed within him to spill over.

“Azriel.” The soft whisper wrapped in a delicate voice seeped into him like a drip of warm honey. “Look at me, Azriel.”

Had he ever shied away from anyone’s gaze in such a way? Had he ever been so vulnerable that he couldn’t meet someone with his eyes? He was not sure. And yet, as Elain asked that very thing of him, he couldn’t find it in himself to look into her eyes. He knew that if he did, he would spill, tipped over like a weak boat in a sea storm.

“Please.”

That soft plea coated with such tendrils of desperation had Azriel’s heart almost stopping, his gut wrecking at the anguished tone. Finally, as he looked up, Elain’s breath hitched at the sorrow etched onto his beautifully carved face. At the wetness that rimmed his sharp eyes –such bright hues of magnificent greens and browns and yellows and greys swirling in them.

Elain brought a hand up to cup his cheek, golden-brown skin smooth like marble under her touch, and Azriel leaned into it, craving the warmth of her palm against him. That mere touch felt like the warmth of the sun and the sweetness of care. It anchored him like nothing else had.

“My sweet Azriel.” She stroked her thumb across his cheek like a lover’s caress, “How could I ever even imagine choosing anyone over you? Giving my heart to anyone who wasn’t you?”

Azriel didn’t know how long he would last before the dams tipped over. He brought his hand up to hold onto the one Elain had so softly placed onto his cheek. A cord had wrapped so tightly around his lungs, he almost couldn’t breathe. He tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. His mouth felt full of ash wood dust.

Cauldron! He didn’t know what to do.

“I have loved you for so long now. So long, I do not remember my heart belonging to anyone but you.” A tear slithered down Elain’s flushed cheek, “I chose you, my love, so long ago.”

“How long, Elain?” He spoke, at long last. He needed to know. Because deep down, he knew that he too, had chosen her long before he even knew he had. Deep within him, he knew that he’d chosen her when she had tried to wield a fork against Cassian that first time he’d met her. Oh, how lovely and beautiful she had looked, even as a human.

Elain cracked a small smile, a misty sheen spreading across her sweet brown eyes, as if she were recalling a distant memory of hers, “Ever since you saw me when no one else would.”

He had seen her when no one else would. Azriel knew what she meant. All he knew was that he had looked at her and hadn’t been able to look away. How could he when the sight of her always reminded him of beautiful summer dawns and warm peaceful sunsets. She was everything good and pure, it made him wonder, how could anyone ever look away from her. And yet, he knew that her words held a much deeper meaning to them.

“You would really go through with it then,” He rasped weakly. “You would really choose a bastard like me over a mating bond with a High Lord’s son.”

“Yes, Az! Mother above, yes, I would,” Elain huffed. Her soft eyes bore into Azriel’s as she continued, “I would reject a hundred mating bonds as sacred as the Mother herself if only it meant that I could be with you. I would choose you in every lifetime. Do you want to know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you saw me. And you heard me when no one else would. You were always there, at every step of the way. You became my friend when I so desperately needed one. You spent time with me in the gardens even when you didn’t have to –not to get me to talk but only to sit in my silent company. You listened when everyone turned a deaf ear, not giving any mind to the riddles I uttered. You pulled me back from the brink of insanity,” Her voice cracked with the emotions running rampage within her.

A tear leaked from Azriel’s eye as she spoke, “Do you know, Azriel, even in those murky days, you were always real. You were always real even when nothing else was.”

Elain went on, “You saw me, Az, for who I really was. You looked past the pretty face and lovely dresses and saw what lay beneath. You saw the ivy and dirt and thorns hidden beneath the flowers and you accepted them. You saw and were not disappointed. You looked and did not look away. Only you. And day by day –” a wet laugh slipped Elain’s lips, “ –bit by bit, I fell madly and so very deeply in love with you. With all your good and all your bad. With all your scars –inside and out.”

“I fell in love with the male who had become my closest friend. Most importantly, I fell in love with a male my own heart chose worthy of its affections instead of someone chosen for me by some magical pot.” Elain calling the Cauldron –the thing that was life and death itself – that had Azriel’s lips curling humorously, despite the fullness he felt in his chest by her words.

His shadows had thickened so densely as they swirled and circled around the pair tightly, Elain was sure none who entered the room would be able to glimpse them. And yet, not one of his shadows came in between them. Not one dared to conceal him from her. They stayed away, just like Elain had wanted them to. After all, they could never hide him from her. She could read him like she could read the back of her hand.

Elain brought her hand to the back of his neck and leaned forward, their foreheads touching, and closed her eyes for a moment, pulling air into her lungs. His scent of night-chilled mist and cedar enveloped her like a soft comfortable blanket on a winter night. She never wanted to leave.

“You always believed in me, no matter what. Like how you believed in me when you lent me your most prized possession, Truth-Teller. The very knife that helped me kill the King of Hybern. You never saw me as a fragile flower to be kept sheltered.” Gratefulness rang heavy in her soft voice.

“You were never a fragile flower. Anyone who thought that was a fucking gods-damned idiot.” At that, Elain let out a weak laugh and Azriel smiled at the glow on her tear-stained face.

“Yes,” she opened her eyes to look deeply into his, “Yes, they were.”

They gazed into each other’s eyes as such emotions hung between them, content in their own little haven, away from the outside world of politics and war and strategies and unwanted bonds and unsteady alliances. Neither of them wanted to leave but they had to. They knew they had to and so, they cherished each and every little moment they could snatch like hungry lovers who met only in the dead of night, in nooks and crannies, with only the moon and the Mother as their witnesses.

They had been sneaking around for so long, going behind their family’s backs because of the shadow of the mating bond looming over them. The same one that would soon be rejected. The pair couldn’t express how elated they felt at the prospect of not having to shadow their love under the pretense of a mere friendship and finally being able to be what they truly meant to one another.

Two lovers with a love for each other so strong, it could surpass even a mating bond. Theirs was a love not meant to be hidden in dark corridors like secret sins. Theirs was a love that scholars preached about in books of great wonders for centuries to come. Theirs was a love that young hearts dreamed of witnessing.

“My heart solely belongs to you, my Azriel.”

“And you hold mine in the palm of your hands, my love.”

Azriel smiled at the sweetness of love that shone like a hundred suns on Elain’s soft, lovely face, bringing his palm up to the smooth, long expanse of her neck, caressing the skin and then moving up to her cheek, stroking his scared thumb gently across the flush that adorned her.

“I will love you to the ends of the worlds, my doe-eyed Seer,” Azriel vowed in a low voice of complete and utter certainty.

“We will forge a bond of our own,” Elain said with such conviction. “A bond so strong, no one could break it. Will you make it with me, Azriel? Will you help me forge it? Will you bind with me? For eternity?”

Azriel blinked. How could she even ask him that? How could she not know the answer that his very soul screamed to tell her? He almost felt like he just might burst from the happiness that exploded within him. There was only one answer to her questions. An answer he had known for a very long while.

He slammed his lips against hers, his hand wounding around her waist to pull her closer, pressed to him, while the other crept up to fist her hair, tilting her head the way he wanted, to deepen their kiss. He kissed her hungrily, jasmine and honey flooding all his senses, and so did Elain, pouring her entire heart out into that kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He wanted to devour her and she wanted to consume him. Like two eager lovers uniting once again after a long while.

He kissed her like a starved male having his last meal and she kissed him like a thirsty female finally finding water. Together, they both drowned in one another and came alive.

“Yes,” he whispered against her lips, holding her delicate face in his hands. “Gods, yes. It will be the greatest honor I will ever, in all my centuries, receive. I want a bond with you and you alone. For eternity.”

And then they crashed into one another once again. Hands roamed and clothes ripped. Lips whispered silent prayers of worship against skin, and in a tangle of sweaty bodies and pleasured moans and satisfied grunts, it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended.

~~~~~

@elriel-month

#elriel month #elriel #elriel fic #elriel fanfiction #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #elriel fanfic #elain and azriel #azriel and elain #azriel x elain #elain x azriel #my fic #fuckmelifesucks

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ashintheairlikesnow · 1 year

Text

Fire Down Below

Sigh Not So | Secrets Hid Away | Shed Tears Aplenty | Fire Down Below |

CW: Dehumanizing language, prolonged repeated choking, nonhuman whumpee, angry whumper, restrained, hanged (no death), captivity

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Gilly leaned forward, the wooden chair he sat on creaking alarmingly under the shift in weight, rocking slightly forward onto the one leg that was shorter than the other three for no discernable or understandable reason.

It’d been a free chair, though, so… there was that.

He held up one hand, thumb curled over a bent forefinger, middle, ring, and pinkie fingers straight up in the air.

The siren stared back at him, only its eyes, nose, and wet curls above the washtub’s water line. He could just barely see the strap of the gag curving around the back of its head, the barest hint of the wood visible through the increasingly dirtied water. It made no movement, no sound.

Honestly, if he hadn’t known what it was, he might have felt some sense of guilt or a prickling at his conscience. It looked so human. As if he’d found a beautiful youth and abducted him for nefarious purposes, like in the scandalous penny awfuls he sometimes bought during times in port and read on lonely nights on the ship. He might imagine himself the villain of such a tale, if the creature had been a person.

“How many?” He repeated.

The thing did not respond. It only blinked, once.

Gilly sighed. “Must you make this as difficult as possible, thing?”

No answer. But he could see the curve of its plush top lip over the bit between its teeth, the way it wanted to sneer and snarl at him, and he would not bear that disrespect.

“Fine. Have it your way.” Gilly wrapped the rope around his hand again and again that led up to the ceiling where his rough-hewn pulley-system had been rigged, leading back down to the rough, coarse rope knotted tight around the stupid creature’s throat.

This it understood, and only this. It did not learn without violence. Not that Gilly had tried too many other options.

As soon as he pulled hard enough to tighten the loop a fraction around its neck, the creature shot further up to give itself slack, but Gilly only followed its movements with his own, pulling with one hand and then another to ensure that once it stood it could not hide itself again.

It was dripping, well-formed body naked as a newborn babe, and Gilly once again mourned that he had had the piss-poor luck to catch a male one and not a female. The monster croaked around its gag, in a cracking voice, “Th-eeee.”

“Good,” Gilly said, voice short and sharp.

He let the rope go slack again.

The creature dropped right back down as far as he would let it go, until it was only bared to him from the ribcage up. It hid itself, always, whenever it could. As if it felt his eyes, as if it cared a single bit about modesty. Sirens were simply animals mimicking a human shape, everyone knew that. The intelligence he saw in those dark eyes was a false one, a trick. Only madmen thought sirens were thinking beings, madmen who sailed off to the islands the sirens were known to stay on, wanting to communicate or connect with their so-called ‘communities’.

Those madmen never returned, or the ones who did claimed to have found nothing at all, simply bare rock and empty bushes.

“Again,” Gilly said, and held up all the fingers on one hand this time. He kept his other hand tight around the rope, in a subtle, wordless threat.

The creature swallowed - with difficulty, the noose was still too tight for comfort even as the rope slackened - and managed, “F-eye-fff.”

“Close enough,” Gilly muttered, but he was secretly pleased. The longer it was trapped in the washtub, a mere speck of water compared to the vast oceans it had known before, the more it cooperated, the more it gave in to Gilly’s demands.

Eventually, it would need to understand him well enough to do his bidding, but until then… until then, they had to move slowly. He couldn’t do anything anyway until the magic had been laid to make the creature more fully his to command.

Outside, there was a creaky, high-pitched voice, the old woman calling in baby-speak to her infernal little dog with its yapping ankle-bites and ridiculous smushed-in face. The siren’s eyes flickered to the window, its head turning with a simple, open curiosity and wonder.

It was a deeply human expression, and Gilly felt a thrill of fury and something he refused to feel as guilt for what he’d done in bringing it here. So he yanked so hard on the rope the siren choked.

He couldn’t stop himself from smiling at its aborted, hoarse cry of pain. Its attention certainly left the window and the sounds outside, didn’t it? And the cries of pain it made were nearly as beautiful as its wicked, tempting songs at sea.

His smile widened as he pulled, stalwart and resolute, with one hand and then another. First its navel was bared to the air, then the mimickry of a man between its legs, those long muscled thighs, water running in rivers down shapely calves and finally to its feet. Gilly’s arms shook despite the years of work on ships he’d done to build his strength, but he kept pulling, and the creature kept rising.

Its cries became shorter, whistling and airless, and then turned to nothing more than gasps. The rope was tight just under its jaw, one strong jerk from broken, like a convict hung on the gallows before a crowd.

But Gilly was the only audience to the show.

The siren’s arms jerked, hands twisting its wrists still bound behind its back. They were already rubbed raw to bleeding and yet still it kept struggling, legs moving uselessly, fighting to breathe when its throat was nearly closed entirely.

“Don’t worry about her,” Gilly said, in a tone of utmost genial friendliness. “She can’t hear you, and she doesn’t care about you anyway. None of them do, they just don’t care. Even if she did know what I’ve got here, what could she really do, hm? Make me leave my home here, to be sure, but what else? What would happen to you?”

The siren’s face was going dark, blood rushing into its cheeks as Gilly stood and braced his feet shoulder width apart for a better, stronger grip. He didn’t need to do this - he should stop, he would never have treated any dog, cat, or horse with such cruelty - but somehow he couldn’t.

He couldn’t stop watching its eyes go wide and frightened, then hazy as the world began to darken for it. As it stared into the death that he could give it, so easily, just by staying put like this, just by letting it dangle until there was nothing left in it but its pretty, pointless skin.

Gilly felt nearly as breathless himself, although with excitement, not with fear. He had never had power of any creature, not this sort of power. Not the power to simply take a life with no rhyme or reason, only his own desires.

He let go, abruptly, and the rope slid hot through his hands as the creature crashed back into the washing-tub, dirty water splashing up over the sides from the violence of its landing.

Its legs crumpled and it disappeared entirely at first, before it pushed itself back up, sucking in gulps of air and coughing, over and over in a vicious cycle. His ribcage swelled and pulled so tight the bones were visible, again and again. Its face was still red, its neck was dark as sin itself with blood running down where the rope had rubbed right through its skin.

When Gilly moved closer, the creature flinched backwards until it smacked into the other side of the washing-tub, hunched over itself protectively, looking up at him with its dark curls over its eyes.

It was finally truly terrified of him, after days of this.

Exactly how it should be.

He pointed to the washing-tub, the dirtied water inside it. “The water is dirty,” He said, over-emphasizing each word as if he spoke to an idiot child or a very dumb puppy. “It needs to be cleaned.”

It swallowed, wincing at the pain even such a simple involuntary motion caused. There was no sign it understood, beyond the way its eyes flickered to one side, where he had forced it to stand in the past in the corner while he emptied the tub out and refilled it clean.

“Yes,” Gilly said, pointing now into the same corner. “Go there.” When it didn’t immediately move, he snapped, “Now!”

The siren hurriedly half-fell over the side of the tub, landing without dignity with a thump on its side, making Gilly laugh at the sight of it wiggling to get back on its feet with its hands still tied behind its back. It skittered away from him, more bug than humanoid thing, until it was in the shadowy corner where he had pointed it to.

“Good. Now stay there.”

He took the rope, changing it so it hung from a different hook, pulling it tight enough that the siren was forced to dance on its tiptoes to keep breathing, and tied it off. Now it couldn’t move. Stupid monster couldn’t even think well enough around its fight for air to try anything.

Which was good, because changing the water was a chore he did not enjoy, and his mood was already dark today. He didn’t need it to get any worse. He’d put way too much time and effort into training the creature to accidentally kill it or something if it upset him too much.

“I know you don’t like that,” He said, almost conversationally, as he moved to open the window. “And if you want to make it stop…”

Its voice was barely a hiss as it echoed, “May-... t-ah-p,” unable to pronounce the sss or k sound around the bit gag.

“Right. Well, you’ll have to start learning faster and start listening to me, won’t you? I wouldn’t have to do any of this if you would just understand me and obey the first time, instead of making it a fight.”

It blinked again.

Gilly had to fight the resurgence of his fury at its simple refusal to listen and learn, reminding himself that he had work to do, and he couldn’t have a nap until he had finished cleaning out its water.

There was a slight downhill slope outside, and so he simply took a bucket and began to bail the washing-tub out, tossing each bucket of dirty water outside to let it run down into the widow’s garden below. The bits of fish parts would help the plants to grow, he supposed. Although in this hot climate, it didn’t help the place smell any better. Not that you couldn’t smell the manure from the animals that lived in the barn, anyway…

He lost himself in the work, as always, simply drifted into a place of contentment even as sweat beaded up on his skin and trickled down his neck and his back. Sometimes, he paused just to watch the siren where it stood, making hoarse little guttural noises, moving from one set of toes to the other, tears trickling from the corners of its eyes down over its beautifully wrought cheekbones, its jawline, and to the floor below.

“I suppose you need a name,” He said, thoughtfully, once he had emptied the tub, scrubbed it out, and then worked to dry it with a towel. In a moment he’d have to head down to the water pump to start the refilling process, but he allowed himself a break to wipe away his sweat and push up his glasses, watching the suffering siren. It watched him back, even though the rope kept its chin tipped up trying to escape the constriction. It whined, like a whipped dog, and Gilly shook his head.

It was even trying to mimic other animals, now, to get him to be kinder.

“I was thinking… the people here before the colony was founded, they had a dance called areyto. I think that’s what I’ll call you… Areyto, because once you’re strung up like this, you dance.”

He laughed.

“We’ll work on teaching you your name tomorrow, I think.”

He headed out to start working on bringing in fresh water. It took nearly as long as cleaning the damn thing out had taken, and each time he left and came back the siren’s movements were slower, more exhausted, the fight to breathe taking more and more out of it. Blood began to dry where the ropes had rubbed, and so did its tears.

By the time the water was clean, it had to move on its knees, hunched over, inch by tired inch until it made it to the metal sides of the tub. Gilly kept the rope in hand, ready to punish, but it had no fight left, not now. He watched those powerful leg muscles shake as it pushed itself clumsily to its feet, and then simply allowed itself to fall over the side and into the water.

It did not resurface.

Gilly tied the rope back off in its usual place, cleaned the splashed-out water with the still-damp towel, and walked out whistling cheerfully, closing the door and locking it behind him.

They were definitely making progress.

Once Atabei came from the northern colonies, her magic would make sure he didn’t have to worry about the monster trying to hurt him, and he could finally start laying his plans out for a gilded, influential future.

Taglist: @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes @squishablesunbeam

Note: Although I am not planning any specific @whumptober this year, this piece ended up covering the first three prompts!

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breannasfluff · 1 year

Text

“Just look at my scarf!” Warriors holds up an end spattered with monster blood. The group is gathered around a cold stream washing off the worst of the blood after a fight.

Legend glances over from where he’s dunking his hat. “Maybe if you didn’t wear a scarf into battle, you wouldn’t have that problem. Goddess knows how it hasn’t been chopped off your neck by now.”

Glaring, Warriors returns to carefully rubbing blood out. “Some of us care about how we look.”

“In a fight? What happens when a monster catches the end and pulls you down? What if they use it to choke you?” The Veteran stops scrubbing his hat to better berate the other. “That scarf is going to be your own noose at the rate you’re going. Just take the stupid thing off!”

“Hey! The scarf is important! Just because you don’t understand emotions like caring and sentiment—“

Time’s sharp voice breaks in. “Boys! Enough. If Warriors made it through a war with his scarf I’m sure he will survive the monsters, too.”

Wild watches the two shoot glares at each other. This goes beyond their mock fighting and edges on true anger. Tempers are short, shortened by the dragging battles.

Legend flips Warriors a rude gesture when Time looks away. The Captain’s hands tighten in his scarf before he looks away and smoothes it into the water again.

Sky, ever the peacemaker, says, “I think the scarf is nice, Warriors. Might as well mix up the outfits, right?”

His only response is a grunt.

Hyrule flutters at Legend’s side, gently pleading for him to let the matter go.

Wild’s tunic is still covered in monster blood, but he ignores it as he watches the group. Time is exhausted; bags starting to form under his eyes. Twilight dozes next to him instead of washing his spare pants. Despite Sky’s attempts at mediation, his patience is running out.

The de facto leaders of the group are rapidly nearing their limits. They rely more and more on Warriors, as a Captain, to help, but the expense is a sharper temper and less understanding.

Leading the group means slipping into Captain mode, where Warriors expects compliance and respect. The Chain understands and he tries to temper it, but Legend does poorly with oversight at the best of times. This is not the best of times.

Warriors stares at the water running over his scarf, shoulders drooping. Leadership isn’t a burden Wild has any interest in sharing; he can barely watch out for himself. Is there something he could do to cheer up the Captain, though?

“Wish I could clean this properly,” he grumbles, before giving up and gently wringing out the fabric.

The comment sparks a memory of Hateno and the dye shop; women chattering shout cleaning techniques. They talked about making a lavender oil that could do nicely…

Mind made up, Wild taps at his slate to see what supplies he’ll need.

Read the rest here!

#linked moments #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu warriors #lu wild #lu hyrule #lu legend #linked universe fanfic #breannasfluff #my writing #fluff

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inkwelloftheheart · 2 months

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I Swear, I Loved You

For so long, I've been a docile sea, mirroring your every mood, every whim. I clung to you like an ivy, my roots entwined with yours. But over time, the earth beneath me trembled. And I found myself sinking in quicksand. Your light turning into a suffocating grip.

Every breath is a struggle. I swear, I loved you. But something inside me died tonight. I know this might sound harsh, but I can't ignore it anymore.

Once, you were my sun, warming my world with your golden gaze. I used to think your love was the strongest factor in my realm, the only thing that mattered. But in the hushed hours, something shifted. It was like a floodgate breaking, and all the feelings I’ve been holding back came rushing out. Slowly, the sun became a scorching inferno, and the rain drowned me in your demands.

I know you meant well. You wanted to keep me safe. But in trying to shield me from the world, you ended up shielding me from myself. I lost sight of who I am, what I like, what I want.

I looked into your eyes, those once-familiar pools of affection, and saw a stranger drowning. A man I no longer recognized. Plunged your icy dagger into my fragile heart. How dare you pretend everything is alright when your little girl is drenched in blood!

You painted me as a delicate porcelain doll, afraid of the world's rough touch. Now your embrace like a tightening noose, choked the life out of me.

The dance floor was a battlefield, a clash between the woman I'm becoming and the shadow you cast over me. I felt like I was walking on eggshells.

I yearned for the sunlight to dispel my inner gloom. But you ignited a raging fire within my house, leaving me battered and bruised. Now, the somber clouds hover over me.

But I'm a force of nature yearning to be free. I felt a crack in the dam. A tiny rebellion against the relentless tide. 'Cause I couldn’t live like that anymore. I needed to feel the sun on my face without feeling like I was betraying you. It was a painful wrench, like tearing off a scab. With every pulse, I shed a layer of your control, revealing the vibrant colors beneath. I'm both terrified and exhilarated by the transformation.

For the first time in forever, I felt alive. It was like a breath of fresh air—a taste of the life I've been missing. We're not the same people we were, and that’s okay. Maybe we can find happiness, but it has to be on our own terms.

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mollywall-e · 8 months

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Sneak Peek at Chapter Four of Take Me Home, my Imodna Red Dead AU

“On this, the thirtieth day of September, on felony charges of trespassing, arson, and assaulting an officer of the law,” Sheriff Gray starts. Imogen snakes an arm behind her back, fingers curling around the handle of the sawed-off shotgun she’s kept in her waistband all day. The deputy releases his hold on Laudna, who nearly collapses, and starts shuffling toward a lever. Imogen clicks back the hammer. “…The state of Lemoyne sentences you, Matilda Johanna Braithwaite, to death.”

As the sheriff passes his sentence, Imogen pulls the trigger.

snippet of chapter four under the cut!

warning: it contains graphic violence

BANG.

Imogen hardly flinches as a spray of crimson erupts from what once was the deptuy's head, now no more than a mangled stump of flesh and bone. She simply stares down the sights of her daddy's gun, unblinking in the face of the carnage she's caused.

Maybe she would've thought twice about pulling that trigger if she'd known just how much blood folks have running through their veins. All Imogen can see is red. Gushing from the deputy's split skull. Dotting the leaves of the hanging tree's low-hanging limbs. Seeping into the wooden platform, dripping between the planks. Splashing onto the red dirt like the rain folks have been praying so hard for.

Imogen dimly registers the crowd's panic, their screams muffled over the shrill ringing in her ears, but she can't tear her eyes from the blood as it drips, and drips, and drips. She swears she can taste the bittersweet tang of iron on her lips just from looking at it.

It's sickening.

It's mesmerizing.

Imogen's jolted from her shock-fueled trance as a broken voice, hardly more than a whisper, calls out amongst the chaos.

“Imogennn…”

Imogen tears her eyes from the blood pooling underneath the platform to look up at Laudna, clawing at the noose still fastened around her neck, panic evident in her eyes.

“Laudna?!”

Imogen's not sure why it comes out like a question. Of course it's Laudna. The only reason she fired that damn gun was to save her from the noose, but she hasn't even done that properly. Yet.

“...help me…Imo - ”

There's a dull thud, and then -

BANG.

The trap-door beneath Laudna's feet snaps open. Laudna falls, and falls, and falls. It feels like she's falling forever, though Imogen knows it couldn't have been more than a second or two. Eventually, the rope runs out of slack, snapping taut. Laudna's last word, Imogen's own name, is cut off by a choked gasp as the noose tightens around her throat.

FEATURING ART BY THE TALENTED @atleastweasel

#imodna rdr au #imodna fic #my fic #imogen x laudna #imodna #atleastweasel #yeeeehaw this chapter is a doozy #contains game typical violence

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chaotic-orphan · 1 year

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June of doom, day 2:

“Get in”: survivor’s guilt // sobbing // salve

Is it really survivors guilt? Maybe. If you squint.

CW: captivity, forced captivity, trading places, rope as restraints, defenceless, self-sacrifice, implied murder, noose (explicit), choking

Idk how to tag I’m sorry…

*~*~*~*~*

Leader’s team stood behind them. Leader a little in front, all their weapons stripped from them. Their combat gear gone too. They just wore a plain white long sleeve shirt and a tracksuit as they faced Villain. They felt naked. Too exposed.

“You’ve taken me up on my offer then, Leader?”

“Me for my team, and Youngest.”

Youngest was beside Villain, trembling with their hands behind their back and trying not to show it. Leader’s eyes stayed on Villain because if they saw Youngest they’d probably lose it. If they focused too much on the visible bruises they’d flip their lid and then this whole hostage negotiation would have been for nothing.

“Of course. You first.”

“No, Youngest first.”

Villain tilted their head with a smile, “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. Come to the middle and I’ll release Youngest.”

Leader scowled, but they obeyed and stopped halfway towards Villain. Villain’s smile only grew as they approached Leader with Youngest in front of them. When they got halfway, Villain flicked open a knife and Leader’s heart jolted but they didn’t react. That was what Villain wanted. A reaction.

Villain just smiled and cut the ropes holding Youngest’s arms behind their back and pushed them forward, saying: “go on now. It was a pleasure meeting you. Run back to your team.”

“Leader?” Youngest asked, unsure. Leader nodded.

“Go on. I’ll be fine.”

Youngest looked between Leader and Villain, then back to Leader, their eyes welling with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Youngest. Go.”

Villain pulled out two cords of rope and smiled at Leader, saying: “hands please.”

Leader offered them without any fight. Villain’s smile got bigger, as they tied the ropes so tight it nearly cut of Leader’s blood circulation. Leader tested the rope to see if it would give in any direction, but it didn’t budge even a little.

Villain winked when Leader raised their eyes to them, “Not my first time,” they said. Leader’s eyes went to the second cord of rope as Villain began tying it in their hand.

“You are so noble, Leader. Sacrificing yourself to save the one’s you love. I just don’t trust you as much as I did Youngest, poor pet, they were barely able to stay standing with how bad their legs were shaking. You on the other hand,” Villain said, intelligent eyes searching Hero’s face. “Well. I can’t trust you as far as I can throw you, so precautions are necessary. Think of it as an accessory.”

Then Villain threw the tied loop of rope over Leader’s head, down to their throat and grinned as they say the quickly extinguished spark of fear that crossed Leader’s eyes. Villain yanked them closer by the rope on their neck and Leader stumbled forward.

“Beautiful,” Villain whispered as they tightened the rope on Leader’s neck like a tie until Leader felt the rope enclose their neck, fitting snug. Then Villain tightened it more and Leader let out a soft cough. The rope was digging into Leader’s throat as they swallowed, and felt every bob of their muscle in the action. Villain wrapped the other side of the rope around their hand and turned back the way they came, tugging Leader along with them.

Like a dog.

Leader’s face burned with humiliation running hot through their veins. Their team was still there. Watching. Seeing them like this.

“Your team won’t be stupid enough to follow us, will they Leader?”

Leader looked back over their shoulder, gaze softening as they saw the anger and sorrow in each of their team’s faces. Youngest was sobbing into Medic’s shoulder and Leader wanted nothing more than to be there.

The rope tightened and Leader jerked forward, choking out a breath almost hitting the floor with their knees. Villain smiled innocently back at them. “No. They won’t follow,” said Leader.

“Good,” said Villain and tugged on the rope again for good measure. Leader grit their teeth, following behind Villain to their car at the back of the warehouse. The windows were tinted black, and Villain opened the door for Leader motioning them with their hand.

“Get in.”

Leader hesitated, and Villain tugged harder on the rope. Leader swallowed hard, raising their hands trying to alleviate some of the pressure but Villain tugged the rope harder.

“Ah, ah, ah,” said Villain, as Leader fell forward into them, barely catching themselves.

“Fuck, Villain!” Leader all but growled as Villain grabbed the knot on their leash and threatened to push it tighter. Leader stared at them, a flicker of helplessness flashing through their eyes.

Villain practically drank it in. Their eyes going dark as they said, “you need to learn who’s in control now, Leader. You agreed to give yourself in return for your precious team, yes?”

Leader looked away, but Villain’s cool hand on their jaw turned their eyes back to the sadist. “Yes?”

Leader swallowed, muttering a quiet “yes.”

Villain grinned. “Good. Now, get in the car, Leader.”

This time Leader obeyed. Villain joined after and shut the door. The car took off and Leader looked out the back window to the warehouse. The car rolled to a stop too soon for them to have gone anywhere far, and Villain stepped out dragging Leader along by the neck.

“Villain, what’re we—?”

Villain just tugged Leader’s leash harder, and Leader growled their frustrations, trying to keep up with Villain. They were on a bridge, that connected the docks to the city. Leader saw the warehouse in the distance and their frown deepened.

“Vill—“

Villain just smiled. “Let’s just enjoy the view, Leader.”

“I swear to god if you’ve done anything, deal’s off,” Leader growled. Villain yanked Leader closer, tightening the noose on Leader’s neck and Leader gasped pushing at Villain’s hands but Villain simply turned them. Leader felt the railing of the bridge dig into their back as Villain pressed into them.

Their hand moved off the rope and grabbed Leader’s throat instead. Villain grinned down, eyes full of malice and grin wicked as they held Leader’s tied wrists down at their waist. Useless.

“Deal’s off? Look at you, trying to prove who’s in charge. Again. Even after I warned you…” Villain tsked, letting Leader breathe again. Leader gasped, sucking in a breath and coughing out the excess. “But fine. You’re in charge, Leader. Deal’s off, is it?”

“Villain—“ Leader tried but Villain just grabbed a fistful of Leader’s hair and pulled them back. Leader grit their teeth, as Villain yanked them forward, turning them to face the warehouse again, trapping their arms between their body and the railing.

“No, no. Leader. I insist,” Villain hissed. Leader fought back against Villain but Villain just kept them facing forward. “Deal’s off. Your team no longer needs protection.”

Leader jerked back as the first explosion went off. By the third Leader’s legs locked like stone and felt as feeble as sand. Their mouth opening and closing wordless, silent, horrified.

“This is what happens when you don’t listen to me, Leader. Let it be your first lesson in my care.”

Villain let go of Leader’s hair and Leader nearly dropped to the ground. “They got out,” Leader whispered, their voice shaking.

“Did they?” Villain asked, then they were dragging Leader away from the bridge and back into the car.

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