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honeybunnybeez · 3 years

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Hugging you close but it still feels too far

♡Genre:Fluff with angst at the end

♡C!Schlatt x GN!reader

♡Format:Fanfiction

♡Summary: Schlatt feels a headache coming on but thankfully you've come at just the right time to help it go away. Unfortunately, a different kind of ache rears its ugly head.

♡WARNING: Self-loathing thoughts on Schlatt's part.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" Everyone in the meeting room flinches as Schlatt spits out those words. His glare forces everyone in the room to look down at their laps, not daring to make a single peep as the president starts to slowly lose his temper.

This whole meeting has been quite a mess, with employees coming late and important documents being misplaced and forgotten. Honestly, Schlatt's usually drunk off his rockers 24/7 and yet he's surprisingly the most prepared for this meeting compared to the rest of his staff.

"Y'know what, fuck it, we'll continue this another day, this isn't important right?" It kinda was important but everyone in the meeting room nods along anyway and says that moving it to tomorrow won't exactly make much of a difference. "Good, good, now get the fuck out, all of you, right now."

They don't waste a single second in scrambling to get out of the meeting room and out of Schlatt's sight, fearing the consequences if they were to stay.

Schlatt sighs and leans back into his chair, massaging his temple. He feels a headache coming on, he needs a drink.

"Why is it that everytime I come to visit you at work your employee's always look like they're on the verge of passing out from fright?" Oh, nevermind, maybe he won't need that drink after all, it seems that someone better just popped in.

"Well hello to you too, sugar," Schaltt pushes his chair away from the desk, looking up at you with a giant grin. "Lock the door behind you, will you?"

(Read more placed, heavy self-loathing thoughts under the cut.)

You roll your eyes but do as your told, the door clicks shut and Schlatt lets out a sigh, opening his arms out wide.

"...Really? Here?" You can't help but be a little suprised by his action, knowing how he likes to keep the 'mushy shit' on the down low.

"I have a reputation to uphold, sugar," you remember him saying to you countless of times whenever you tried to get physically closer to him in public, "and I can't let that be ruined by all of this soft and sweet bullshit, understand?"

"Are you sure?" You feel like you're being fooled right now, this feels very out of character for him, and truthfully it is, even he feels weird doing this, but a part of him is aching for you and all he can think of is having you by his side.

"...Please..." ugh, you hate and love it when he used his manners, it always made you give into what he wanted way quicker than you should. Deciding that second guessing won't do anything you give him what he wants, sitting on his lap and letting him gently headbutt your cheek and under your chin.

"Do the thing I like," he demands, resting his head on your chest. When you don't move quick enough for his liking, he takes matters into his own hands quite literally by grabbing your hand and placing it on top of his head. He lets out a satisfied groan when he feels you running your fingers through his hair, helping him soothe his headache with your gentle touches.

"I'm pretty sure if your employee's could see you now, they'd probably stop being so scared shitless of you knowing that you like to be pet," you can't help but tease him as you watch his face shift into one of absolute bliss as you kiss his temple and hold him closer to you.

"I will bite your jugular clean off if you tell a single soul about this, you hear me?" As if to prove a point, he presses a hard kiss to where your jugular should be, tickling you a little with his facial hair.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say Mister President."

After a while of your gentle carasses, he lets out a big yawn, his grip on your waist loosening and his eyes growing heavy as you continue to massage the top of his head carefully. He starts to ask himself when was the last time he properly cuddled with you back home in the safety of your shared bed, it's probably been ages.

'Maybe I should change that,' a distant part of him thinks.

'You keep saying that idiot, but literally nothing ever changes, if anything you keep getting WORSE.'

...Oh, fuck no. It's starting again, those stupid thoughts of his that whisper in the back of his head everytime he finally has a moment of silence with you. He just wants one day without them, one day of just letting you love him like you're supposed to, is that so much to fucking ask for?

'You keep asking for way to much, ever notice that?'

'They love you enough but do you ever show them that you love them back?'

'Fucking useless, it's only a matter of time before they start seeing you that way too.'

God, he wants them to shut up, please just shut the fuck up. Please-

"Hey," he jolts slightly when your voice shakes him out of his aggressive growing thoughts, "getting tired there, princess?"

He wants to argue with you that he isn't sleepy at all and to never call him princess again but as another yawn escapes him, he decides that maybe a nap isn't the worse thing in the world right now and that pet name argument could always be brought up another time. He doesn't verbally respond to you, choosing instead to nuzzle closer into your chest and shutting his eyes.

"Don't even think of leaving me alone here before I wake up, (y/n)," it's more of an order than a threatening warning with how sleepily he slurs his words. If you weren't practically on him at the moment, you swear that you wouldn't have been able to make out his mumbling demand.

"Of course I won't, you big baby." You struggle to stiffle a small laugh when you hear him groan and lazily hit your arm at the affectionate insult. "I'll always be here by your side for as long as you want me to."

He can never stop his heart from aching whenever he hears you say such sincere words like it's practically second nature to you. Why is every part of you so genuine and why does it hurt him much more than it should whenever you do anything remotely loving to him like he deserves it. Maybe that's why he doesn't always come home to you like he's supposed to.

'You don't fucking deserve any of this,' a sudden thought of his screams, causing his heart to jump. His fingers grip onto your shirt for a moment by instinct when he feels that thought linger longer than it should have.

"Hey, you okay-?"

"Fine!" He cuts you off quickly before you can properly finish your sentence. "I'm- I'm fine, it's just the usual shakes. Im going to sleep so kindly shut the fuck up, alright?"

He doesn't give you room to respond as he nuzzles even harder against your chest and goes back to closing his eyes. He tries to steady his thoughts again and after awhile he thinks he's finally succeeds in doing so. He can feel himself slowly starting to drift off but before he can do so, the light brush of lips can be felt on his temple. He knows what this usually leads to and he silently pleads for those words to not spill from your lips but of course they do, they always do.

"I love you."

Schlatt knows that any hope for a dreamless slumber is lost as his heart and head fills up with guilt like it always did when you held him back home, whispering sweet nothings to him thinking you were lulling him to sleep when instead you were only fueling the thoughts in his head to shout at him louder and louder.

He constantly scolds and reminds himself that all of this isn't worth it, that he should just end things with you now to stop the constant cycle of personal torment, but Schlatt's never been known for being a rational person who cares about the well being of others, and it seems that it translates to himself as well. Really, as angry as he wants to be with you for all the heartache you cause him, he knows that there's truly no one else to blame for his pain but himself.

A/N: Will I ever be able to write c!Schlatt content without making it sad? Apparently not- ^^' I just really love angst when it comes to him. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed reading this!

(Requests are open and anon is on!)

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #dream smp x reader #dream smp imagines #c!/schlatt

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wallwriterstuff · 3 years

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The Good I Come Home To ||Leon S. Kennedy x Female!Reader|| Part 1

Warnings: Angsty, PTSD Leon being very jumpy and shell-shocked, mentions of sex.

Words: 3318

Summary: Originally posted to my Archive of Our Own Account.

Part 2 can be found here

Leon has kept it very casual with you for months, seemingly oblivious of the growing feelings you harbour. You have no idea just how badly it hurts him to leave you every time until he tries to cut you out of his life completely. You have other ideas. You just have to persuade Leon they're the right ones.

Leon S. Kennedy was a complicated man in many respects, but it was easy to unravel all those complex layers if you started looking at his core values, his sense of purpose. To serve, to protect. Leon was built to be the bodyguard of humanity, the first line of defence between unimaginable horror and the things he loved. Every experience had moulded him into this hard shell of a man, so far from the one people used to know. It had been interesting, really, to see an old friend from the Police Academy approach him and see just how different they had turned out. They both had the eyes of experience anybody in the force acquired over time, but Leon’s were sterner, like an unbreakable stone as opposed to ice you could chip away at and eventually shatter. This old friend of his had a small-town job and apple pie life. He had the white picket fence and the wife who kissed him when he came home to freshly made dinner. His children were doing well at school.

Leon had listened like his life was a whole other world away. It was visible in his eyes, though he carefully kept it off his face, that the comparison between each man actually disturbed him. You hadn’t meant to see of course. It was pure coincidence you’d happened to be in the supermarket, walking down that same aisle. His old friend had hit the barricade you so often hit when you asked. You’d stopped questioning it after a few months of back and forth and the looming threat of losing him became a dark and unbearable burden.

“So er, heard about the huge explosion at Raccoon. Where’d they place you after that?”

“Nowhere. I work for the government now.”

“Oh damn. FBI?”

“Something like that.”

His job was the complicated topic. Classified and bad enough to put a certain brand of darkness behind his eyes when you asked, it was best left untouched by your hands because it was hidden beneath the many layers of the man you’d only ever been allowed to scratch the surface of – literally and figuratively. Beyond his core values, the simplicity of Leon S. Kennedy lay in his needs. He was a flesh and blood man after all. He was guaranteed to need to eat, to do laundry, to shower, to relieve himself. These simple needs were what made him somewhat predictable to you. On his best days, when he text you days or hours before, you were almost guaranteed to be wined and dined. Okay so the wine and dine option was sometimes more like beer and take-out pizza but it was always paid for by him if you bought the alcohol.

When he was feeling a little less than okay, you’d get no outright statement of his desire to see you, but he’d hedge around the topic and wait for you to ask him, like he was afraid to be a nuisance. You’d only get this awkward and prompting behaviour from him an hour or two before he showed up which left you little time to prepare, but a quick shower was always on the cards. In his worst moments, he’d give no warning and simply show up at your house with smouldering eyes that demanded your attention and everything else you had to give him. God help you, you always gave him everything. As simple as his needs were, as his feelings on the matter appeared, yours were much more complicated. Leon S. Kennedy had made it clear from the start when he met you at the bar that fateful night, all chiselled jaw and playful eyes, that nothing serious was to come of this.

It had progressed to a proper agreement when you both seemed to just keep running into each other. You were free to date, if you so pleased, and he’d stop showing up. He’d be gone like dust in the wind, untraceable and impossible to bring back. You didn’t want that. Until the day either of you became tied down you had agreed you were exclusive. You sated each other only. It was hard to keep to that promise all the time when he was away for long periods, but you remained true to your word anyway, and that was how it had stayed for a solid eight months. Leon came back to a bed you kept free just for him and left in the morning like it was no more than a pit-stop on a long and winding road.

You suspected he wasn’t proud of it. You thought sometimes you could see something softer in his eyes, something that made you think he wished for something more than he was already giving you. There were moments his eyes lingered when he said goodbye, times his hands stayed on you a little longer than they usually did. On rare occasions, when he was just a bit too drunk after what you guessed was a bad job, you let him sleep it off with his arms around you and listened to the whimpers in his sleep with an aching heart. Leon consistently let you have his body, gave you the briefest glimpses at the big heart he held so carefully hidden away, but never once did he let you into his mind. As much as you loved being with him, you had never truly been with him at all. You’d never truly connected with him beyond anything physical. It pained you to know you never would. You cared for him too much. You saw the deep pain he carried with him everywhere, and you’d never be able to alleviate that load because he wouldn’t let you.

You had to pause the TV to be sure you’d actually heard anything at all, but when you heard the noise again it was stronger, bolder. Knocking. Glancing at the clock, you turned the TV off with a frown. There weren’t many people who would come knocking at this late hour, and you didn’t know if your heart was in it tonight to let him in when he would forever keep you out. As if on cue, when you opened the door to a dripping wet Leon, thunder rumbled and rattled the open window in the corridor of your apartment block. A small puddle of water had formed on the windowsill, dripping in as the harsh rain battered the glass. Leaving your door propped with the door stop you kept nearby for moments like these, you crossed to the window to close it and lock out the weather. You felt sullen enough without the storm clouds invading your house.

“Leon if you’re here to drink that’s okay but I’m not really up for-“ you cut yourself off, uncertain all of a sudden as to what it was he was here for. His needs were always so simple, the looks and actions associated with them something you had come to learn to recognise without much conscious thought. This was entirely new. Those piercing blue eyes were sullen, fighting between being as hard as sapphire and as soft as calm ocean waves. What was frightening was the depth of the ocean you saw. It was like staring into an abyss of torment. Red-ringed and with whisky on his breath, it didn’t take a genius to realise Leon had been crying and was in fairly bad shape. Hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, he stared at you through those horribly complex eyes, his mouth half open like he wanted to say something but couldn’t force the words out. He was pale, breaths even but heavy, like he had to physically remind himself to huff out each one.

Wordlessly, you took him by the hand. His skin was freezing to the touch and you guessed the faithful jacket had done little to keep the bitter cold from seeping into his exposed skin. Your theory was proven right when his cheeks were just as cold to the touch.

“I…” you thought he might say more but it was like watching a caveman learn to talk. There were only sounds, no words. He was usually very skilful with his tongue but tonight those talents were nowhere to be found. Pushing his jacket from his shoulders you hung it to dry over the back of your sofa, hoping the radiator would do its job and leave it toasty for him when he inevitably put it on to leave you again. You ignored the stinging in your chest at the thought. Leon didn’t need you to be petty right now. Truthfully, you were frightened. Leon’s carefully constructed composure had been shattered by something and you didn’t think you wanted to know what was strong enough to shatter this man’s rock hard exterior and cut him so deeply. He stood dumbly in your hallway, and you gently pushed him to the edge of the sofa to take off his shoes so they wouldn’t traipse water into your home.

“Shhh Leon, just come with me.” You coaxed him back onto socked feet, leading him down the hall to your bathroom.

“No…no Y/N I, I don’t…” he swallowed.

“Do you trust me Leon?” you asked him, keeping your voice gentle like you were cajoling a wild animal into eating from your palm. Leon nodded without question and you smiled slightly. “Then just follow for me now.” You kicked open your door and led him to the edge of the tub, grabbing a towel from the shelving units there and placing it on the sink.

“What are you doing?” he could barely speak above a whisper, looking confused and upset and lost all at once.

“I’m going to run you a nice hot bath before you catch your death. I don’t know how long you were in the rain for Leon but you’re frozen to the bone.” You said calmly, putting the plug in the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. Leon didn’t answer, merely watched you with the eyes of a man so lost in trauma he couldn’t find his way back to the surface world and make sense of the happenings around him. While you waited for the water to turn steamy, you rubbed at his hair with the towel in your hand to dry it. You knew something was incredibly wrong when he let you mess it up like that. There were very few instances you were allowed to touch his hair and you had to always, always comb it back into place or suffer the consequences. Occasionally, you took a break to fill the tub with some of your prized bath oils. Lavender, camomile, jasmine, all your favourite scents from a beautiful kit a colleague had bought you as part of secret Santa last year.

He didn’t comment as the room filled with intoxicating, relaxing scents, nor when you checked the temperature again and told him he could get in when he was ready. He held the towel in both hands, staring at the cotton as if it might hold some answers.

“Thank you.” He mumbled. You nodded once.

“Have you eaten anything yet?” you asked him. He nodded once, but he didn’t meet your gaze. He was lying you were sure. “Okay. Take as long as you need in here, I’ll be about when you feel ready to see me alright?” you promised, leaning up to kiss his cheek softly. Your lips lingered a little too long, but Leon didn’t move away. He closed his eyes as if the contact was all he had wanted and more. As the door closed behind you you heard the soft, muffled sob he tried so hard to bury in the towel, and your heart broke a little more. Something had shattered Leon S. Kennedy and it didn’t sit well with you at all to see him this vulnerable. He needed the space right now to get his mind back in order but once he did, when he was ready to face you, you weren’t sure you’d get an explanation from him. He’d shut down every time you’d ever asked for one before.

He’d woken screaming one night, lashing out so violently that if you had been sat upright there’d have been no way to avoid his fist and he’d have knocked you out cold. When you tried to ask what was wrong, he’d simply snapped at you to leave him be and left your apartment so fast there could have been a fire under his ass. So, what did you do? Did you just not even try? He hadn’t made a move on you, had specifically said no when he saw you heading in the direction of the bedroom. But if he wasn’t here for sex what was he here for? It only added to your anxiety that you really had no clue what he wanted if it wasn’t your body he’d come for, and though part of you thought that should make you angry, another part of you hoped that that meant it was something more that he was after this time. The kind of more you wanted.

No. You had to try for him. You couldn’t let him go on like this. He didn’t have to fight the war in his head alone, not when you were here. At least, if he wanted to go it alone, he could have someone stable waiting with a safety net if he stumbled. For now you’d let him linger and soak in the tub, and you’d make the most out of the ingredients you had in the fridge. If he stayed, he could eat it off a plate. If he didn’t…well, you’d make some in a container in case. Pasta bake had always been your father’s speciality and it had been your favourite as a child, was still your comfort food now. Chicken and bacon sizzled, pasta boiled, and you grated the cheese to the rhythm of your favourite song playing softly on the radio while the milk and butter warmed on the stove. You snagged a piece of bacon from the wok and let the salty flavour burn your tongue.

With your masterpiece constructed and more cheese grated on top, you slid the dish into the oven for it to crisp up and set your timer, setting about washing the utensils next. It kept your hands busy, kept your mind from wandering too much, but even the sudsy water couldn’t quite keep your mind from ticking over. Why had Leon come here in the pouring rain? What had spooked him so badly he’d thought, in his less than coherent state, that he needed to be here in your apartment? Did the fact he’d come to you mean anything at all or did he just happen to be nearby? You put the saucepan a little harder than necessary into the rack when it slipped from your hands, jumping and cursing to yourself at the loud clang it had made.

“Y/N!” Leon almost roared your name in pure, abject terror. Eyes wide you rushed for the bathroom, hands still soapy and dripping water. He was already out of the bathtub, naked and scrambling through his jacket until he came up with a gun of all things, aimed right at you as you burst through the door. A shriek escaped you and you immediately dropped to the floor, hands above your head.

“Leon it’s me!” you begged. Harsh breathing filled the room.

“Where is it?” he demanded. You peeked up at him from below your arms, lowering them slowly. He was half-crouched, eyes wild and fixated on the door that led back to your room. He offered you a hand. “Come on, get up and get behind me, where is it?” he repeated the question more firmly now.

“Where’s what? Leon I – there’s only us here. I just dropped a saucepan.” You breathed. His expression faltered, confusion flooding his features first , then guilt, and finally grief. His eyes closed and he inhaled deeply, held it, exhaled slowly. He lowered his gun after a few more deep breaths.

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking a little like a kicked puppy. You shook your head, slowly pushing to your feet so as not to startle him. His skin was tinged pink, little suds clinging to the ends of his hair. The timer went off in the kitchen and Leon flinched again, hand tensing around the gun. You soothingly placed your hand on his arm.

“It’s just the timer. We’re the only people here Leon, nothing’s going to hurt us. How’s about you dry off and come have something to eat?” you suggested. He blanched at the mention of food and you frowned. “You don’t have to eat everything, just a little bit, you look really pale.” You reached for the towel and held it out to him until he reluctantly nodded and wrapped it around his waist. You left the door slightly ajar and headed for the kitchen to switch off the damn timer. He was so jumpy, so eager to jump to your defence. You plated up a small portion, not wanting to put him off with a large one. You didn’t feel particularly hungry yourself but you’d had a proper meal earlier in the evening, a cup of tea would suffice, camomile and honey would soothe your nerves. Leon had a liking for peppermint you knew. Maybe if he was nauseous that would help him eat? Tea and pasta bake served you sat opposite his place, one hand wrapped around the handle of your mug and the other pulled up to your mouth, your teeth nibbling the side of your nail.

“You’ll make your thumb sore.” He lingered in the doorway like he wasn’t sure if he should sit down or run away. You dropped your hand and placed a more welcoming smile on your lips, nodding to the plate.

“Chicken and bacon pasta bake. It’s good.” You invited. Hesitantly, Leon shuffled to the chair and sat down. You didn’t push him to talk. Months of being with Leon had assured you that pushing would only clam him up further, and you wanted to pry him open tonight. With a sinking feeling, you realised it might be the last night you ever saw him. He’d let himself be extremely vulnerable to you already and you weren’t the type of person to see this kind of trauma and let it go unchecked. You’d want to check in on him, you’d want to help him feel better, and Leon didn’t appreciate the questions you’d have to ask to get the kind of help he needed right. He sighed slightly, picking up the fork and taking a small bite. He looked physically sick for the first few mouthfuls, and you made an effort to distract him with small talk about the weather, your day and all its mundane happenings.

He seemed enraptured by your very voice, soaking in every syllable that crossed your lips and mindlessly working his arm and mouth to clear the plate and drain the mug in front of him.

“Can I have a bit more? It’s really good.” He surprised you with his request but you obliged him, spooning some more on his plate.

“If you’re that partial to it you can take some home to.” You said simply. He nodded once, clearing the second portion with ease and looking much better for it. The colour had returned to his cheeks and he looked a little more put together than before. You settled back in your chair, watched him clean his plate and put it in the drying rack. It was a courtesy you’d never have asked for but were grateful for nonetheless. He didn’t turn around though, keeping his back to you and tightening his grip on the countertop.

#resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy #female reader #leon kennedy x female reader #angsty #tw ptsd #part 1

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early2000smovieimagines · 3 years

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Meeting and Dating Sirius Black

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(For future reference, you can also request for marauders era Sirius and Remus but you’ll have to specify in the request since I’ll just write for their characters in the movies if you don’t. )

- You and Sirius meet though the Order. You were a trusted confidante of Moody; which is an accomplishment in of itself, and a talented witch, so when the group was being formed, you were almost immediately invited to join.

- Like any rational person would be, you were a bit nervous upon meeting the formerly Azkaban imprisoned Animagus. Your mind ran wild with assumptions and visions of the neurotic individual that took up the front page of the daily bugle; more than once, so when you entered the room and found a freshly washed, neat, and charming individual, you were almost in disbelief.

- It was fascinating to see how different he looked, calmly stood in a room full of people, unchained, and in regular clothing. He was handsome, which is a word you never expected to associate with Sirius Black of all people; though you’d certainly heard rumors of his attractiveness.

- And you, my dear, are beautiful. Sirius really hasn’t been in contact with anyone for the past thirteen years, let alone a pretty, young woman such as yourself, so the minute he sees you, his heart skips a beat.

- Perhaps if he’d had time to brush off his old charms; or if they were never put on the shelf to begin with, he would have been able to throw you a line or two, but you completely caught him off guard. Because of this, he was merely able to give you a nod and a handsome smile after the two of you were introduced.

- The two of you don’t talk a lot at first but over time you do start to warm up to each other. And warm up you do....

- You start having those heat-inducing interactions, the ones with the cheeky comments and the flirting and the innuendos. All of its done away from the group and in close proximity of each other, and sometimes it feels as though you can hardly breath with how smoldering his demeanor can be.

- Every now and again, he’ll find you in the living room late at night and you’ll share a few drinks until you’re both pleasantly warm. You like each others company, you like your conversations, and you can feel yourselves growing closer by the day.

- It’s probably a bad idea for the two of you to be together; especially right now, but when has Sirius ever let what’s “bad” stop him from something he’s wanted to do?

- So, he approaches you one day and; in a surprisingly nervous fashion, asks you out, assuring you that you don’t have to if you don’t want to and that he would understand but that he’d be honored if you’d join him for dinner.

- Well, of course you agree, and soon enough, you find yourself having a nice and comfortable dinner with him at the Grimmauld place. The two of you talk and get to know each other, and he starts to feel more confident, getting back a bit more of his flirty charms as the night goes on. And there you have it, the beginning of something beautiful.

- Let’s pretend that he lived shall we; since we all already do that anyway, the two of you kissed a few months into your relationship, mainly because you didn’t have a whole lot of time to spend with each other.

- The group is planning a big mission and you’re saying goodbye the night before it’s supposed to happen. And there's so much that you both want to say but you cant find the words and so, finally, he just leans in and kisses you soft and slow. When he pulls away, he kisses your cheek and says goodnight, and you go to bed praying that everything will go as planned.

- He did his waiting, and now he’s found his soulmate ...so perhaps it was worth it in the end.

- The amount of Pda that the two of you get into really depends on what the world is like at the time.

- Considering the fact that he really can’t be seen in public; for risk of being imprisoned again, your pda consists of him licking your hand, brushing up against your legs, and putting his head in your lap as you pet him between his ears.

- If we’re imagining a world where he isn’t a fugitive then he’d be much more touchy. A hand on your thigh here, a tight hug there; little things that let him feel your presence and know that you’re there.

- Touch starved; twelve years in the most brutal prison of the wizarding world will do that to you. You should see the way he leans into your touch, it’s enough to make you melt.

- His hand on the small of your back or gripping your waist whenever you’re standing together.

- He likes to take one of your hands in his whenever the two of you sit together, usually pairing it with eye contact and a few quiet, romantic words.

- Sitting in his lap.

- Tight hugs.

- Temple and head kisses.

- Your kisses are going to be somewhat clumsy at first, he’s obviously going to be a bit rusty but he gets the hang of it again very quickly.

- Darling, angel, dearest, love, my lovely. You practically get a new pet name everyday.

- He holds you close at night, spooning you so tight that you can hardly move at times. He holds you as though he’s afraid he might lose you, likes you’ll disappear if he doesn’t.

- Sometimes he twitches, whimpers, fidgets, his grip tightening, and his face burrowing into your neck; it’s how you know he’s having some kind of bad dream.

- Gifts. It makes him happy to give you things, to be able to provide for you and make you happy. It feels very domestic; it’s just what he needs.

- Long conversations.

- Sitting together as you bathe. It’s not even a sexual thing; though it can be, you’re just comfortable with each other. You talk, you joke, and you tell each other about your days. It’s relaxing.

- Firelit evenings spent drinking wine and enjoying each other’s company.

- Spending most of your time inside. He’s on the run; if you haven’t noticed, so you’ll have to make do and enjoy what you can.

- Ignoring Kreachers insulting mutterings. You occasionally have to hold Sirius back from throttling the ignorant creature.

- Stargazing and walking around together at night.

- Having dinner together.

- He’s still got some youthfulness to him so the two of you get into your fair share of adventures. He still enjoys a good bit of fun from time to time.

- Visiting Hogsmeade for a bit of nostalgia once everything is over. You both love and hate seeing him there: you love the twinkle of fond memories in his eyes yet hate the melancholy smile that inevitably paints his lips during your trip.

- Listening to stories about his younger days. How fun James was, how they tormented Snivellus, how awful his family was. Occasionally, he’ll trail off sadly and you’ll just kiss his cheek, giving him a tight hug as he assures you he’s fine.

- Harry coming to stay with you over the summer. You’re practically his godmother by now.

- Having Remus and Tonks over a lot. You and the woman become good friends and him and Remus enjoy sitting back and watching their girls.

- Surprise visits, albeit usually by a black dog scratching at your front door.

- He loves your infatuation with his tattoos. The feeling of your fingers on them or your hand splayed out on his chest is the best in the world.

- Playing with his hair as he lays his head on you.

- Cooking for and taking care of him. He deserves to have someone doting on him after all he’s been through, doesn’t he?

- Lazy mornings spent in bed. He likes pressing a few soft kisses to your shoulders after he wakes up.

- Lots of jokes, many of them dog related. He always has you laughing.

- Smartass comments. You occasionally have to keep him in line; you don’t need someone killing him just because he can’t keep his mouth shut.

- You keep the peace between him and a lot of people. He’s got his fair share of enemies or just people that he doesn’t get along with, and you do your best to ensure that things don’t erupt between them.

- Catching him up on everything that's happened.

- Comforting him during hard times.

- The instant you’re upset or insecure, he senses it and is on your ass, comforting you and giving you words of wisdom. He can always make you feel better.

- He’s not an incredibly jealous person but he does have his moments. He’s surprisingly good at holding his tongue when it comes down to it. He’ll just take you aside later and tell you that he loves you, needing to hear you say it back without any hesitation.

- He’s very protective when he needs to be. He’ll do whatever he has to to ensure your safety. He’s not going to lose anyone else if he can help it.

- Even prior to your actual relationship, you were definitely followed around by a shaggy black dog; whether you were aware of who it was or not. He just wanted to make sure you were alright, and he was bored.

- The two of you really don’t have a lot of fights. He reserves his jackassery for other people so he doesn’t have too much left when it comes to you.

- Whenever you do argue, he apologizes fairly quickly. He hates fighting with you and he wants your little argument to be over as soon as possible, even if that means swallowing his pride and saying sorry.

- There’s quite a few I love yous in your relationship. He loves the smile you get when he says those three little words, and he adores hearing them from you.

- After everything he’s been through, he just wants a nice, happy, quiet life. One that wouldn’t be complete without you.

#hp imagines #hp imagine #hp headcanons #hp headcanon #sirius black imagine #sirius black headcanon #sirius black headcanons #sirius black imagines #harry potter imagines #harry potter headcanons #sirius black x reader

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years

Text

Badass || Bill Denbrough x Reader

Day 2 of Fictober

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x [gn] Reader

Requested: how about you do a bill x reader where the reader is a badass but still in the losers club???? just came up with it!!! btw love ya work and love ya!!!!

A//n: Aw thank you so much! That’s so sweet of you. Love you too darling, hope you like it 💛💛💛 and thanks for being so patient like the rest y'all 😘 [also i am in no way a badass so I’m sorry, I tried lol] edit: OKAY IM ACTUALLY SO PROUD OF THIS, HOLY CRAP?? And again, i finished and pressed saved draft 30 SECONDS before midnight, so fight me this counts lol i just had to set up the title and tags and stuff on my computer before posting. anyways, thanks for waiting for this request, i hope you enjoy this, like i said, im actually surprised at how proud of this one i am!

Fictober Prompt: “that’s the easy part”

Warnings: Blood

“ROCK WAR~!”

The next thing you knew, rocks were soaring across the stream straight for your head. Luckily for your skull, your reflexes were faster than you remembered and you managed to duck before a giant stone could knock you out.

And yet you still heard a thump?

You peek out from behind your arms, looking behind you to see Richie laying flat on his ass, his glasses askew. You winced before you caught sight of a giant rock near his foot and quickly made a grab for it.

Your glare stretches across the stream, settling on the leader of the bigoted pack. You kissed the rock as you met his eye, a devilish smirk stretching across your face as you wound up. Bowers was scrambling for ammo but you had already released. The rock found its target with a satisfying ‘thunk’ leaving Bowers on his ass clutching his bleeding nose. He pulls his hand away, gaping at the overwhelming amount of blood that had already painted his hand before locking eyes with you.

“KISS MY ASS, HENRY!” You hollered with a triumphant smile. “YOU TWISTED FUCK!”

“What the fuck?” Belch and Victor began scrambling back, looking around desperately for rocks of their own.

The Losers spared wide eyed glances your direction as they unleashed a storm of rocks on the now deeply unsettled Bowers gang. Bill was the only one who hesitated, his wide blue eyes frozen on you when you turned to give him a smirk. You had been looking for ammo and it seemed he had the perfect one. You cocked a brow, your devilish smirk still dominating your face as you gestured to the stone in his hand.

“You gonna use that, Billy Boy?”

You threw a few quick glances across the barrens making sure your weren’t gonna get hit. Luckily morale seemed to be growing scarce over there.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t completely gone.

“Ow,” Bill hissed, right hand clutching his left shoulder. “F-f-uck.”

Your head whipped around on your shoulders again to see Victor Criss’s upper lip twitching into a satisfied smile as he looked at Bill. You returned your attention to your boyfriend and the rock he held out for you.

“Let me,” you seethed.

You snatched the rock up, stomping forward with a wild glare in your eyes that was enough to intimidate the bleach blonde. Victor was already on his heels and running, but you weren’t letting him get away that easy. You threw with all your might and watched with pride as it soared through the air and hit him directly on the spine that was poking through his back. He cried out in pain as he fell to the ground, his chin meeting the very rock bed that fueled the fight.

“EAT SHIT,” You spit. “YOU LACKEY ASS FUCK!”

~~~~

“Turn it off!” Beverly cried. “TURN IT OFF!”

The projector in Bill’s garage had quickly turned into It’s stage as It put on a horrific display for you and the rest of your friends. What was just once pictures of Derry, suddenly turned into pictures of Bill’s family - you missed Georgie terribly, having grown so close with him the year before he died when you and Bill first got together. And now you were all staring death in the eyes as It manipulated the very air in the room around you. Every click of the projector put you on edge, the stroking effect and of course the child eating clown tormenting you all.

It was hard to process your own thoughts as they were quickly drowning in everyone’s screams and your own fears. You clutched Bill tightly to your side, your arms linked and your fingers stitched together. Everything was moving so incredibly fast it was near impossible to process until you realized you weren’t holding Bill’s hand anymore.

“Y-Y/n!” He cried, tugging at the back of your shirt before it slips from his grip. “Y/N!”

Mike had already unplugged the projector, that much you knew. But you were fucking desperate. You lunged for the projector, gripping it tightly as you held it high above your head. With a guttural scream, you threw it as hard as you possibly could into the cement floor. It broke instantly into several unidentifiable pieces, the room now completely dark and eerily silent.

Heaving, you finally look up to meet your friends faces. Each of them were gaping at you, an expression they seemed to always be wearing around you.

“Well,” you say finally. “I think it’s safe to say we found It.”

~~~~

“How hard is it,” you seethed, your voice growing in volume. “to NOT wander off? In a FUCKING HAUNTED HOUSE?!”

You took all your anger and fear out on the door Richie was being held in. Your elbows were practically glued to the surface while your fists and forearms repeatedly pounded on the door. First Eddie, now Richie. You swear, these idiots had to me smarter than this.

“Richie!” Bill joined your side, pounding on the door that had closed all on its own.

“RICHARD!” You pounded on the door again, your anger turning to pure fear that was now stinging your throat and eyes as tears began to well. “This is not fucking funny, open the goddamn door asshole!”

Your hand wraps around the doorknob again, and you shake the handle, jostling it around in hopes something will cave. When the door flew open, you didn’t know whether to chalk it up to luck, skill, or it was all still part of It’s torment but you didn’t care. Richie was alive, and tumbled into your and Bill’s grip.

“Richie!” You hugged the boy tightly, then pulled away with your signature glare. “WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING!?”

“N-n-no t-time,” Bill says, looking between you and Richie with determination in his eyes. “L-let’s get outta here.”

A muted thump answered before you could. You, Richie and Bill all looked to the source of the noise to see the moth-eaten mattress from earlier was now shifting by itself. It looked as if it was filled with jumping beans. A melon sized lump grew in the center before the fabric split to reveal the disheveled and muddied up head of your friend.

He smiles at your twisted expressions. “Wanna play loogie?”

Your reflexes are faster than your thought process and you run forward. Just as a strange black goo starts to spill from fake Eddie’s mouth, your leg was swinging through the air. Your left foot connected with the left side of his jaw, narrowly missing the sizzling black ink and Eddie’s head popped off his body as you put it across the room.

It sails through the air, his greasy hair catching several cobwebs as it spins. Specks of the goo go flying landing on the walls and ceiling before the small head collides with a disturbing ‘thunk’.

“What the fuck?!”

“Holy shit,”

Eddie’s head lands in the far corner of the room where it rolls back and forth on his right ear before settling. He was groaning as if all the spinning had made him dizzy. The ooze of black goo came out even faster as if he were ralphing, and it was now pooling across the floor and inching towards their feed.

“Oh, that’s fucking GROSS!” Richie looks quickly to you. “And now you made him angry!”

“At least I did something!”

“Guys,” Bill pleads. “C-come on,”

The pool of black tar is spreading fast and you and Richie don’t have to think twice to listen to Bill. You all turn on your heel, only to find three doors instead of one.

Very Scary, Scary, and Not Scary At All.

Not Scary At All was the winner, Bill and Richie quickly decide. And despite your protest that it was all clearly a trick and the doors were misnomers, they opened the Not Scary At All.

“Where’s My Shoe?”

The light was turned on to reveal the severed body of Betty Ripsom and you had promptly decided you had had more than enough.

“WHERE THE FUCK WERE HER LEGS?!” Richie cried.

“I’ve got a guess but I’m not sticking around to find out.” You growled.

You cast a glance behind you to see the tar had eaten up most of the floor, giving you little room to do what you wanted. Luckily, you didn’t need much. You took a few steps back and looked at the door in the center, your eyes settling deep into the crimson letters spelling “scary.” You were certainly glad you realized when you did that unlike the door that held Richie hostage, this one could easily be broken down from where you stood.

You sighed. “I have to do everything.”

~~~~

“WELCOME TO THE LOSERS CLUB, ASSHOLE!”

Richie’s bat swung through the air and knocked the clown back. Pennywise quickly recovered and lunged for the nearest target with a disgusting growl. You quickly scrambled for a weapon as Mike stepped up to bat. He threw the fence iron rod at the monster but it was stopped midair when It’s jaw unhinged and out came several charred arms holding it in place. More and more reached out from inside It’s throat and made a grab at Mike who was fighting back the force of all the arms.

You never happier to have been too slow to save your friend when you saw Stanley pick up one of several spare iron rods off the ground. With a brave determination, he launched forward with a fierce battle cry as his torch came down on the branch of arms that now recoiled, saving Mike. It stumbled back, the charred arms slinking back into its mouth and disappearing and Pennywise stumbles again when Richie kicks It forward and away from him. Unfortunately that brought It right to Stanley.

“Stan, watch out!” Bill cries from your side.

But it’s too late, It’s head had already changed to the same horribly contorted lady that had you had already found attacking your friend. Only this time it was still wearing It’s clown suit, and it was racing straight for Stan.

“Stan!” You cried, already running forward after him only to stop second later.

Yet again Stanley roared, striking the clown across the face with the most furious look you had ever seen on him. Despite the horrifying circumstances, you were quite proud. You quickly fell back into line, ready to fight with the others and you smiled yet again when Mike followed up Stan’s strike with a devastating blow of his own.

The small moment of victory was soon cut short - a pattern you were currently getting used to - when a pair of red tentacles-turned-crab-claws pulled Mike to the ground.

“Mike!” Eddie shrieked.

Mike was able to barrel roll to safety as as It advanced on him. The end of each gigantic claw striking the earth and narrowly missing him and you and your friends quickly followed not knowing what to do. You couldn’t watch it anymore, and you hated yourself for what you were about to do but you knew you would simply never forgive yourself if you lost Mike, or any of your friends.

For what Bill wished was the first time of the summer, he felt you leave his side as you charged headlong into danger. Another guttural scream left you as you hurled yourself onto It’s back, your iron spike in front of It’s neck, both hands on either side of the rod and you pulled as hard as you could.

Pennywise’s disturbing, maniacal laughter grew even scarier, something you didn’t think was possible as he began to suffocate. You let yourself drop back down to the ground, your grip still tight on your weapon as you used your position to pull It down to the ground. It was still laughing through chocked breathes but it had done what you hoped, and stopped, Mike had gotten to safety with the Losers.

And for one glorious moment you felt indestructible. Until you saw it shift before you’re very eyes and your eyes widened, as did the eyes of your friends and Bill. It’s complete figure changed, starting with It’s head. You and the Losers no longer saw a painted lady, a mummy, a horrible memory, an abusive father, or even a late little brother. But they saw you, their friend Y/n, cowering and crying under the iron rod that pinned you to the ground by the neck.

“Please,” It whimpered, bottom lip quivering horribly. “Please don’t. I don’t wanna die.”

The real you was staring at the sight of yourself, the real fake you that you always tried so hard to push down. You knew it was Pennywise, but it was enough to make you choke completely. You were always so confident, and you were good at sticking up for yourself and the rest of the Losers. At least that’s all they ever saw, that’s all you ever let them see. Deep down you were terrified, and much more than that you were terrified that your own fear would get in the way of protecting your loved ones.

Like now.

“Y/n?” Bill’s soft voice called out to you, breaking you from your spell.

You look down at your blubbering face, tears streaking down your cheeks as you begged yourself for mercy. Several pleas leaving your lips when finally you pulled the rod back. Your eyelids flicker open, gazing back up at you and watch your every move cowering.

“Y/n?” Ben asks.

You don’t answer, you just straighten, your demon double cowering beneath you and it only angers you more to know none of this is It’s own fear. It was yours. It was mocking you.

Which was pretty stupid, considering you still had the spike.

You bare your teeth as you summon your strength, throwing the end of the spike into the ground, going right through your throat.

~~~~

You watched with head on Bill’s shoulder as another drop of blood from your palm fell onto the grass. You were trying to think about anything but the pain, and with everything you had faced this summer, you certainly had the pick of the litter.

“It feels different now,” you say, voice quiet. “And not just cause It’s gone, ya know?”

You even hate to let yourself believe that, but for the sake of your sanity and the chance of every getting another night’s sleep you’d have to believe it. And knowing Bill as long as you did, you know he felt it too.

You pick your head up off his shoulder and look to his gaze break away from the hills in the distance to meet your eyes. For a moment he doesn’t say anything, and you know for sure he’s thinking it too. Beverly was leaving for Portland, Stan said he heard whispers from his parents that they might be moving and that was all on top of the heavy weight of your guys’ trauma that had already begun to drain everyone.

“A-a-at least we-we’ve got each o-other,”

You smiled, nudging his shoulder with your own.

“Big sap,” you chuckled.

He smiled a little, enjoying the small moment between the two of you. But it disappears when his mind returns to image that had been replaying in his mind nonstop since Neibolt. The image of your cowering form that bothered you so much. He had never seen you - the real you, that was being confronted, that is - so distraught. He gulps, gathering his strength.

“W-what made you s-see that?” He asks.

You don’t answer for a long moment, and Bill fears he’s upset you. Or confused you, but he doubts that is the case. Finally, you look up at him, and lick your lips nervously.

“I’m scared Bill,” you croaked, heart pounding wildly at the admission. “I’m always worrying about you, I’m always worrying about Richie, Mike, Eddie, Stanley, Bev, and Ben. I’m always worried something is going to happen. I’m always scared something’s gonna happen to the ones I love, and I get scared that I’m not gonna be enough to protect them.”

You take a deep breath, swallowing all the air you lost in your unintentional rant. Somewhere during your confession, your gaze broke away from Bill’s gaze and now here you were afraid to even look him in the eye.

There’s another silence that Bill finally ends after a small thoughtful moment.

“It’s okay to be scared, Y/n,” he says, pulling your eyes to him. “I-I-It’s part of being h-human.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying your best to banish the image of your cowardly form from your mind. Suddenly the sting of your cut didn’t hurt so bad.

You looked back into Bill’s soft eyes, and shrugged.

“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel too great either.”

He nudged you again with a charming smile.

“Well, y-you’re still a badass. Y-You’re always s-standing up for us,”

You chuckled weakly, sending him a smirk.

“That’s the easy part,” you say. “It’s looking out for myself that’s harder.”

“T-t-tell ya what?” You raise a brow at his sudden demeanor. “I’ll be t-the b-b-badass lookin out for you,”

You laughed, leaning in and giving him a lingering kiss that turned his cheeks absolutely scarlet.

You smiled when you saw this. “Thanks Billy Boy. Appreciate it. But I’d still like to work on myself a bit, ya know?”

He smiles again, this time triumphantly. “Deal.”

#bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough imagine #bill denbrough one shot #fictober20 #fictober 2020 #fictober #fictober day 2 #bill denbrough #jaeden lieberher #jaeden martell #reader insert #x reader #losers x reader #losers imagine #it 2017 #fic

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plus-size-reader · 4 years

Text

Consequences

Ivar the Boneless x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1844 words

Warnings: murder? Ivar/Sigurd dynamic

Summary: Sigurd talking badly about you, knowing its the one thing that really gets to Ivar, and having to deal with the consequences.

——————————————————————————————————

It was no secret that Sigurd liked to get a rise out of his youngest brother. Anything he could do to upset Ivar he would do without a second thought, and you all knew it.

However, more and more Sigurd was finding Ivar less willing to fall into his cheap attempts at upsetting him.

...So, he decided to evolve his technique.

More than anything else in the world, Ivar cared for you. In all his life, he had never found himself more drawn to another person and his love for you knew no bounds.

There was nothing he wouldn’t do for you and to Sigurd, that made you the perfect target for his attacks.

He knew no hatred for you personally, but the best way to upset Ivar would be by using you, so he was going to just have to get cruel. His monster of a brother deserved it, maybe if even you didn’t.

Sigurd had been so miserable at the hands of his brother for so long, that it was only right he administered some of his own consequences upon him.

He just had to find the best time to make this all work, and he found it in the form of a feast, thrown outside to celebrate the changing of seasons. The flowers were in full bloom and you never passed it up.

After all, you insisted on a feast like this one every year and not one of Ragnar’s sons was going to argue with you.

Instead, they each took their seat at the table and waited for you to sit among them, ready for whatever courses you’d set on having the thralls make. You always took this very seriously, and they couldn’t fault you for it.

It didn’t hurt that Ivar had threatened each and every one of them with countless nights of torture if that smile was forced from your face.

This didn’t matter to them, but it certainly did to you and if anything ruined that, they would surely never hear the end of it.

“The lamb should be out in a few seconds boys, for now we have plenty of ale” you grinned, sitting down at the table beside Ivar, holding your own horn filled to the brim with golden liquid.

As best you could tell, there was nothing going on. However, that changed rather quickly as soon as Sigurd opened his mouth. He saw a window to jab at his brother through and he was going to take it.

...And without missing a beat, he did.

“It’s no surprise at all that you had something as decadent as a lamb prepared, I suppose” he started, leaning across the table toward where you were sitting, his eyes fully focused on you.

You had no idea what he was doing, but you didn’t care.

You were having too good a time to let Sigurd bring you down, not to mention what a waste it would be to let his foul mood ruin the excellent weather.

Not that your shrugging him off the first time was enough to put a stop to his coming attack. You were a very easy target for Sigurd’s torment, and there was nothing he could do about it.

It wasn’t clever or anything, and certainly not his finest moment, but Sigurd didn’t care. He was angry at his brother, and nothing else was as important as getting back at him.

Especially not right now.

“Come on, tell us all...how much of that young lamb are you planning on eating? I wouldn’t be surprised if it was all gone as soon as they set the tray in front of you” he continued, spewing poorly worded insults your way which you again ignored.

Though, Ivar wasn’t nearly as inclined to allow Sigurd a pass. He could be as cruel as he wanted to anyone other than you.

As far as you were concerned, he should have known better than to open his mouth.

“Watch your mouth brother” Ivar started, his jaw tight and his fist clenched as he watched him. Sigurd had quite a lot going on in his head right now but he wasn’t afraid of what Ivar would do.

In fact, he was looking forward to seeing how you would react if he kept pushing all those buttons.

You sighed, reaching out to take his hand in your own, trying your hardest to calm him before something bad happened. You knew that his temper could be a little uncontrollable but if you could do anything to make it better, you had to.

“I’ve had enough food prepared for each of you Sigurd, don’t worry about that” you assured, breathing deep to keep your composure. You didn’t care about his weak insults, not really.

Perhaps they stung a little, but you were not children playing in the street anymore. Each of you was an adult, and if Sigurd had a problem with the way you looked, he could deal with that himself.

You didn’t have to concern yourself with his opinions.

...But Ivar didn’t have that luxury.

As soon as his spiteful brother opened his mouth, he had started something there was no end to and he had to be taught a lesson. For making you question yourself, Ivar was going to punish him.

“I have no doubt that’s true, I just hope they don’t have to loosen the seams of that dress too much” Sigurd finally chided, giving one last blow before deciding he’d done enough damage for the day.

By the time he’d finished that sentence, Ivar was practically vibrating with rage and it couldn’t have been better for Sigurd. This was what he wanted all along, after all.

He wanted to get a rise out of his brother, and a rise he had gotten for sure.

“Shut your mouth!” Ivar yelled now, seeing red as he looked upon his brother. How dare he say those things about you? After all the hard work you’d gone through to have this entire feast set up.

You didn’t even have to include Sigurd and you’d done it anyway.

Understandably, there was a moment or two of silence as each of you in turn tried to decide what to do. You had no idea what had gotten into Sigurd as of late, but you had no words.

You had been nothing but kind to him and out of nowhere, he was being completely cruel, seemingly for no reason.

“I was just making an observation” Sigurd shrugged casually, knowing that the more nonchalant he was, the more difficult it would be for Ivar to keep his cool.

...And he was right.

Before any of you knew what was happening, Ivar had thrown his axe across the table, causing it to land square in Sigurd’s chest. You had no idea what to do, or how to react.

After all, it all happened so fast and as Ubbe and Hvitserk rushed to where he was now laying on the deck, you could only sit with wide eyes, waiting for someone to address you.

Had that been your fault? You had tried so hard to keep your calm and not cause problems but Ivar had been angry anyway. So angry, in fact, that he had likely just killed his own brother.

He killed Sigurd.

The events after had gone just as fast as to be expected, but you didn’t have a chance to clear your head until you were in your room, much later in the night.

Your feast had been ruined.

The day had been ruined.

...And Sigurd was dead.

That left you, sitting in your bedroom, having to wonder if you had made this happen. Was there anything you could have done to keep him alive? Had you reacted poorly in the moment?

Maybe Ivar had caught on to some behavioral cue that you didn’t even know you were giving during Sigurd’s attack on you. You had no idea what it could have been, but there was no going back now.

Whatever it was, you would never really know the truth.

The silence in the room was interrupted by Ivar, entering without so much as a courtesy knock to make sure that you were decent. It didn't matter, not to him.

You could have been in there doing anything and he wouldn’t have batted an eye.

Right now, he just needed to be with you. Nothing else mattered more than that.

“What are you doing in here? All alone” he wondered, having looked all over for you before finally deciding that you would be in your room, turned in for the night.

Perhaps you were pouting over the fate of your precious feast? Whatever it was, it didn’t even occur to Ivar that it could have something to do with his brother, whom you would all be burying in the morning.

That didn’t even cross his mind.

“You murdered Sigurd today”

It took a moment or two for you to even decide what you wanted to say. You didn’t want to upset Ivar, but at a certain point, you decided that you didn’t care. There was no need to protect his feelings after what he’d just done. As much as you loved Ivar, he needed a quick dose of reality.

“I did not. It was an accident, he kept saying all those terrible things about you” he huffed, knowing that he should have been prepared for that. You never let him get away with anything.

Even if he thought he was doing it for the right reasons.

“I understand that Ivar, but I can handle a little bit of ridicule. No one can handle an axe to the chest” you scoffed, scooting over on your bed to make room for Ivar, as he made his way over.

You weren’t sure how to handle this.

All your life, you had been making excuses for Ivar and assuring everyone around you that he meant well and that he wasn’t as cruel as they thought. You had always had his back, and you knew that he had yours.

However, you weren’t prepared for what that would mean until today. Ivar had never killed someone for you before, at least, as far as you knew and it was a lot to take on at once.

He had murdered his own brother, in pursuit of protecting your honor. It was almost hard to believe.

“I’m sorry, but at least now the rest of the men know not to make comments about you” he joked, keeping his voice somber though there was a grin on his face.

It wasn’t funny, and he knew that, but you couldn’t help but laugh anyway. He had done something horrible, but at least he had come to check on you.

It wasn’t much, but it was more than you’d been prepared for. No one could ever say that he wasn’t caring, at least where you were concerned. You just wished that courtesy extended to other people too.

Perhaps if it did, Sigurd would still be alive.

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luciferloser · 3 years

Text

Demon brothers & Undateables react to an MC with a preteen child

(As you might have guessed by now, GN MC!)

(the child’s gender may be specified in some of the scenarios)

(Y/C/N = your child’s name)

Spoilers for lesson 16 in Belphie’s section!!

Lucifer

Toddler or Preteen, it didn’t make much difference to the eldest brother. He’s seen all the stages of development with the majority of his brothers and Satan, there’s probably nothing your child could possibly throw his way that would shock him.

That is, until he actually met your child. At first he remained at his full height to assert dominance, there was no way he was going to stoop to this human’s level not that his back would allow it anyways. But then, before he could even properly introduce himself, your 12 year old squared his shoulders and declared to the Avatar of Pride, if he did anything to hurt you, your son would make his life hell... oh wait.

That bold statement did surprise Lucifer at first, but as your son trailed off and stepped back slightly, realising his mistake, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Kudos, young man, but I don’t think there’s much you can do that can torment me terribly.” he chuckled.

“Wanna bet?” your son grumbled in response, already thinking of numerous ways to make this strange man pay.

“I have six younger brothers, I’d like to see you come up with anything they haven’t.” he smirked in response, “Anyways, come along, preparations for your room have been completed.”

With that, Lucifer turned away from your son and strode down the corridor. This year was certainly going to be interesting...

Mammon

The Avatar of Greed didn’t really know what to say when he saw you standing next to a slightly smaller version of yourself. At first, he thought you were siblings, but then it dawned on him that you had a child.

Mammon, as the ‘babysitter’ naturally spent more time around your daughter than you, but that certainly didn’t stop him from adding the odd flirtatious remark to you when he wasn’t being a tsundere.

It was this development that caused your daughter to speak up one evening when she was chilling in the lounge with Mammon and Asmodeus. “Listen, Mammon, as much as I don’t mind you flirting with my parent, there’s something you ought to know. Hurt them and I swear to you now I will kick you so hard up the ass you’ll taste nothing but my shoe for a week.” your daughter boldly announced, not once glancing up from her phone.

While Asmo was busy rolling on the floor in tears of laughter, the white-haired demon just spluttered as his cheeks darkened. “H-hey what makes you think I-I’d hurt ya ma anyways.” he tried to defend himself.

“I’m not saying I expect you’re going to hurt them, just giving you even more of an incentive not to.” your child smiled in an almost sickeningly sweet manner before jumping up from the sofa.

“This was a lovely chat but me and Beel are going out for lunch, catch you later!”

Asmo picked himself up from the floor, and as he pushed Mammon’s jaw back up, he added “she’d be the perfect niece for me, hurry up and take MC out on a date.” With that, Mammon shook his head slightly as he went to go and find you. He wasn’t sure whether he hoped the attitude came from you or not...

Leviathan

When the otaku heard the news that the exchange student had a child, he was quite nervous. One human was going to be enough to handle, let alone an additional smaller one.

His fears only worsened when you left him alone with your child for the first time. The two of you had been gaming as you usually did once a week and your child wanted in this time. You stood up at the end of that round, promising that you were going to get the three of you drinks and some snacks. Before Levi could even protest, you had already closed the door behind you.

The demon of Envy’s eyes darted all around his room, looking anywhere but at the small human. That is until your spawn child murmured his name. Snapping his head round to face your child, his eyes widened slightly.

“Okay so I get you don’t really hang out with ‘normies’ or whatever that’s supposed to mean, but if you really don’t wanna be with my parent then tell them that. I’m not gonna let you hurt them like that.” your child confessed, eyes never once leaving his.

After that confession, Leviathan got a faraway look in his eyes as he thought of the resemblance to an anime he’d just finished binge watching last night; ‘my human best friend has a child that is secretly a guardian angel!’.

Snapping out of his reverie, Levi looked down at your child once more and nodded his head profusely. ‘I solemnly swear to you I will protect them.’ he recited the lines the protagonist from the anime had used, but he meant every word he said.

Satan

Being the youngest of his brother’s meant Satan had never really had anybody to be a role model for. Which is why, surprisingly, he felt compelled to look out for your child when he first met you both. Especially because your child was already past the unnecessary crying stage and had a pretty solid understanding of communication.

Your child had never really been an extrovert and so the avatar of wrath hadn’t been too opposed to looking after your carbon copy when you were busy being pulled in every which direction by his brothers. On one of those days, your child had accompanied Satan to the library to find some more books to occupy themselves with; seeing as they weren’t technically enrolled at RAD there was no need for them to complete any class work.

“Hey Satan, can I ask you something?” Your child enquired, glancing up from their novel.

“Hm? What’s on your mind, Y/C/N?”

“Why do you look at my parent like they hung the stars in the sky? And don’t say you don’t, because I spoke to Asmo about it too and he couldn’t agree more.” Your smaller version of yourself asked, tilting their head slightly.

Blinking rapidly in surprise at the question, Satan gawped at your child before shaking his head slightly. “You shouldn’t ask Asmo questions like that. He’s the avatar of lust - not love. I know for a fact he thinks I’m looking at them like-“

“Gross! I don’t need to hear about things like that, I’m gonna go hang out with Simeon if you’re gonna talk about that.” Wrinkling their nose in disgust, your child stood up to leave, packing his books with him. Smiling to himself as he watched Y/C/N leave, he thought to himself ‘I guess I need to have a chat with Y/N’

Asmodeus

The avatar of lust couldn’t help but squeal in delight when he took in the sight of you standing with your child. He had not one, but two new friends to go out clubbing with! What? What do you mean Y/C/N isn’t allowed to go clubbing? Well that’s boring. Oh well, they can always just go shopping together and Asmo can arrange some fashion shows for you and your child. In fact, yesterday he bought the cutest coat and it would suit Y/C/N so well.

Speaking of going shopping together, one night when you and Beel had gone out to Madame Screams to try some of the new ice cream on offer, Asmo had invited Y/C/N back to his room for a self care night after shopping all day. Applying a face mask to his skin and your daughter’s, he laid beside her to let the mask dry.

“Hey Asmo, I have a question for you.” your child stated, staring up at the canopy that covered the demon of lust’s bed.

“If its about that brunette demon that held the door open for you at River Styx he’s single but there’s so many nicer demon’s out there for you and I’m pretty sure he-“

“No! It’s not about him. I admit he was cute but that’s not what I wanted to ask. What I wanted to ask was, whether you were interested in anybody...” your daughter trailed off, suddenly feeling bad for prying.

“Oh honey, while you’re an absolute treasure and I have loved spending time with you lately I don’t think we’d be a very good match at all. If I’m honest I’m more interested in Y/N. I’m so sorry you had to find out this way- why are you laughing?” Asmodeus stopped his spiel of an apology at the sound of your daughter’s chuckles.

“I’M not into you like that either, babe. I only asked for my parent’s sake. They’re head over heels for you and I just wanted to see if you felt the same.” Your daughter confessed, rising from Asmo’s bed to find a washcloth. “When they get back from the ice cream store with Beel, you should totally ask them out. Watch how quickly they’ll stumble to agree.” And with that, your daughter left the avatar of lust alone with his thoughts of you.

Beelzebub

“Did the human bring a snack with them?”

That was the first thing the redhead ever said to you and your teen son. Needless to say it took a while for your son to warm up to Beel after that. When the situation was explained to the glutton felt very guilty afterwards and went above and beyond to make it up to him.

One afternoon when the three of you were supposed to go to a new cafe that had just opened, Lucifer wanted to go over some paperwork with you, and so Beel offered to take your son out anyways and promised to try to save you a cupcake. Your son didn’t look too thrilled at the idea of going out for food with the demon who thought he was the snack, but reluctantly agreed for your sake.

“Look, Beelzebub I have to be honest with you. You seem nice enough and all, but I still don’t trust you especially knowing you could swallow us whole and thought about doing that the first time we met you. But on the flip side, you did protect Luke from Lucifer a while ago. So I suppose I can learn to trust you, is what I’m trying to say.” Y/C/N stated as he brought a mug of spiced tea to his lips, looking over at the demon who went wide eyed at the sudden confession.

Swallowing the rest of the cheesecake in his mouth, Beel nodded earnestly, “No its okay! I’m not surprised you don’t trust me, after what i said to you I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me. I know this probably isn’t what you want to hear, but i care about you, you’re basically family at this point. And I care about Y/N too; quite a bit actually.” By the end of his sentence, the demon’s face was almost as red as his hair.

“Hmph, I figured as much. If you care about them even half as much as you say you do, say something. You might be surprised what you find out.” Your son smirked, leaning back in his seat to take in the blushing demon before him.

Belphegor

Unsurprisingly, your son had a blatant distaste for Belphegor when they met officially. Watching your body fall still in Mammon’s arms to then disappear was enough to send him charging at the sloth demon. Even after Barbatos’ assistance on the matter and bringing you back, Y/C/N held the iciest glare he could muster. Laying a hand on his shoulder, you assured him you were okay and didn’t hurt anymore.

“Put it this way Belphegor. I never want to see you within touching distance of us again. Demon or not, I will not hesitate to swing for you. Nobody hurts my family.” Y/C/N spat, turning on his heel and tugging you with him.

After weeks of awkward meal times, you and Beel hatched a plan to get your son and his twin talking. You had forgiven Belphie for what happened, understanding that he’d had his own family in mind when he attacked you.

“Oh. Y/C/N have you seen Y/N? They wanted me to meet them here.” Belphegor asked, avoiding eye contact with your son the entire time.

“I wanted to ask you the same thing about Beel, he said-” your son was cut off by the sound of the living room door slamming shut and the lock clicking in place. “Is this some kind of joke? Mammon if that’s you and this is your idea of a joke you’re not funny! Open the door!”

There was no answer from the other side of the door, the only sound being that of a pair of retreating footsteps. Sighing in defeat, your son slid down the door and glancing at Belphegor, to see him looking just as uncomfortable as Y/C/N felt. “Well, there’s no telling how long we’re gonna be in here. I feel like I owe you an explanation...” The sloth demon began, wringing his hands together as he prepared to tell your son everything.

A few hours later, you and Beel opened the door slowly to reveal your son and Belphegor dozing on one another. Smiling at each other in victory, the two of you crept closer and wrapped them in one of the blankets on the back of the sofa. You had to admit, this was the most peaceful the two of them had looked in a long time.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me imagines

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the--highlanders · 3 years

Text

2. “You have no proof.”

on ao3.

He stood in the doorway, hesitating, his mouth half-open but his words reluctant to come out. Well, he thought, he could hardly blame them. They were not exactly pleasant words to have to speak. And he had no desire to inflict them on Jamie, of all people. A small part of him was still wondering if he couldn’t just turn around and walk away, never say anything at all. But it had to be done. The plan demanded it. And it was fairer to tell Jamie himself, rather than let it come from someone else.

His other option, of course, would be to go and tell Victoria first. An even harder proposition. No, he thought. Best to practice on Jamie, and leave Victoria for a little while longer.

Jamie had not yet looked up and seen him, thank goodness. He was sitting on the bed, turned slightly away from the doorway, hunched over something – a lump of wood, the Doctor guessed, from the flashing of a knife in his hand. Whittling away, totally innocently. Not knowing what was coming.

How he wished he didn’t have to do this. But it was too late now.

Who knew how long he would have stood there, debating what he ought to do. But luckily – or unluckily – enough, the universe took matters into its own hands. As he shifted his weight forwards a little, the floorboard beneath him creaked, and Jamie’s head jerked up. He hissed, holding out one hand before raising his finger to his lips, and the Doctor winced as the tang of blood floated up into the air. It would not be the last pain he would cause Jamie this afternoon.

Again he wondered if he should just turn and leave, but Jamie moved before he could even decide on what to do, twisting around to catch sight of him standing there hesitantly. His eyes lit up, and the knife of guilt twisted further into the Doctor’s stomach. “Ah – hello, Jamie,” he said. “I do hope I haven’t startled you.”

“Eh?” Jamie glanced down at his finger. The blood had been sucked away, revealing a mercifully narrow slash, but redness was welling up beneath the skin again. “Och, it’s just a scratch.” He grinned, shuffling over like he had to make room on the bed. But the Doctor made no move to sit next to him, and his face fell. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell you something.” Both the Doctor’s hearts were pounding, almost loud enough that he could not quite hear what was coming out of his mouth. He could only hope it was convincing. “Something you’re not going to like.”

Why on earth had he agreed to this? he wondered. To scapegoat himself? Oh, there had been a knife at his back when he had said yes – but could he not have been brave enough to take the fall? Not that Jamie and Victoria would have liked that any more. And with a little luck… well, a lot of luck, if he was completely honest with himself, his gamble might pay off, and this could all be sorted out rather neatly, without anyone getting hurt.

If he was wrong, though…

It was not so much the thought of punishment that bothered him. He could take anything dished out to him, so long as Jamie and Victoria were safe. It was the thought that they might believe the worst of him, and go on thinking that for the rest of their lives. If he failed to prove his innocence and ferret out the real killer, he would end up locked away, never knowing what they thought of him. Whether they could ever trust him again. Not that it would matter, with him mouldering away in some dark dungeon.

No time like the present, he supposed, drawing in a deep breath and closing his eyes. He could not bear to see Jamie’s face as he spoke. “It was me. I killed Thani’lar.”

Dead silence.

He had expected rage. Disappointment, maybe. To be thrown out of the room in anger. He had not thought about what he might do with silence.

“I’m going to hand myself in,” he carried on haltingly. Still not a syllable from Jamie, and still he did not dare to open his eyes. Perhaps seeing Jamie’s face would be better than the dark and the quiet – or perhaps not. “You won’t have to worry about me. There’ll be a trial – a formality, you understand, seeing as I’ll have confessed – and then they’ll lock me away. Everyone will be quite safe.”

More silence.

“They’ll look after you here.” What more was there to say? “The Cathions have one of the most advanced travel systems on this side of the galaxy, you know – they’ll be able to get you anywhere. Even back to Earth, if you so wish. I’m afraid you won’t be able to return to your own times – but I don’t suppose either of you would want to, anyway, so that’s rather a -”

“No.”

He fell quiet, his mouth still opening and closing without a sound emerging. Had Jamie been agreeing that he would not like to return to his own time? Saying that he would not like to leave the planet? Something else entirely? How could he know?

Would it be safe to open his eyes?

Slowly, steadily, he opened them. Jamie was still not looking at him, staring down at the wooden block grasped loosely between his hands. His voice had been firm, but his expression was firmer, and the bottom dropped out of the Doctor’s stomach when he realised why he had said no with such certainty.

“I don’t believe it.” There he was, then. He had been right. “Ye wouldnae have killed him. It’s no’ – that’s no’ you.”

There was another thing he had failed to plan for. Jamie simply refusing to swallow the story. What on earth was he going to do about that?

“I can assure you, Jamie, I did,” he said gently. “I – I found him in the catacombs, and -” He had always thought nausea in the face of a simple idea to be a rather distinctly human reaction. Quite disgusting, and evolutionarily silly. But he had no other word for the feeling rising in his throat. “I broke his neck. It was all over very quickly.”

“No,” Jamie said again. “No, I don’t believe you. You’re – you’re just sayin’ it for some reason -” At some point, his hands had started shaking. The wood dropped to the floor with a clunk, rocking back and forth. “It’s no’ funny, aye? I’m no’ laughin’.”

“Neither am I.”

“Why?” Jamie snapped his head up to face him, his eyes blazing. “What reason would ye have for doin’ somethin’ like that?”

“He -” This was something he had prepared for, but it did not make it much easier to say aloud. “He wanted to stop me accessing the archives. I had to get past him.”

“Ye wouldnae do it like that. You’d talk to him. Break in there if ye had to. But ye wouldnae kill anyone to do it.”

Oh, Jamie. He always was a smart one. Too smart for his own good, in this case. “I didn’t plan to,” he said quietly. “He was just – in my way.”

“How did ye do it?” Oh, goodness, there were tears brimming in Jamie’s eyes, and in his voice. Whether they were tears of fright or anger or sadness he could not tell. Perhaps they were all three. “How did ye break his neck? With your bare hands?”

“Well – my people are rather stronger than humans, you know, Jamie. I’m perfectly capable of it, physically speaking.” Just not mentally speaking, as Jamie so clearly knew. But he could hardly say that.

“You’re no’.” All but launching himself up off the bed, Jamie strode over to take the Doctor’s hands, turning them over to inspect his palms. “You’re not – they’re no’ a killer’s hands. I know they’re not.” Seeing him up close was even worse. Don’t start blubbering away, the Doctor told himself sternly. His lie was apparently flimsy enough already. Crying wouldn’t help.

And then his hands were being lifted and fitted around Jamie’s neck, and his breath caught in his throat.

“Go on, then.” Jamie sounded like he was holding back tears himself. His grip on the Doctor’s hands was only just steady enough to hold them in place. “Do it. If ye can kill someone else, ye can kill me. But I’m bettin’ my life that ye couldnae do it.”

“Well – well -” He tried to wrench his hands away, but Jamie’s hold on his wrists was strong. “Jamie, be reasonable.”

“Ye couldnae do it!” Jamie cried, his voice full of something that could either have been elation or torment. Maybe a little of both. “Ye couldnae kill me, an’ ye didnae even have the strength tae throw me off.” Letting go of the Doctor’s hands, he swept away to pace across the room, gesturing wildly as he spoke. “Ye couldnae have killed him. I know ye wouldn’t have. I dinnae know why you’d say ye did.”

“Because I did kill him.

“Ye didn’t,” Jamie spat. “Ye have no proof. No proof.”

What more proof did Jamie need, besides his own word for it? What proof could he give, when none existed?

“Please, Jamie,” he said. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

“Ye have no proof,” Jamie repeated. “I know ye didnae kill him. I don’t know why you’re sayin’ that ye did, but I’m gonnae find out.”

That was the last thing he could afford. For Jamie to go poking around. Too smart for his own good, indeed. He was certainly clever enough to pick up the trail, perhaps even resourceful enough to follow it all the way to its root. And he would be killed for his trouble, without a doubt. The Doctor could not let that happen. He would never let that happen.

The one silver lining, he supposed, was that Jamie would not risk allowing Victoria to become mixed up in all this. If she ended up in danger, too – well, that would be far too much for the Doctor to bear. He would never forgive himself.

“Jamie,” he said again. When he reached out, Jamie backed away from him, so he paused, standing there lost and unanchored. “I know you’re hurting. I know you’re confused. But please – please, you must trust me. I’m doing what’s best for everyone.”

“Ye don’t always know what’s best,” Jamie snapped back. “Dinnae go tryin’ tae convince me, ‘cause it’s not going tae work. I’m never going tae believe ye. An’ I’m not going tae stop until I find out why you’re sayin’ this, an’ put an end to it.”

And the worst part was, he thought, that he had no doubt that Jamie was telling the truth. He knew the depths of Jamie’s loyalty, after all, and the depths of his determination. Never once had he imagined that it might turn against him like this.

Oh, dear.

This was going to be harder than he had thought.

#second doctor #two/jamie #fanfic archive #my writing #fictober 2021

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bondsmagii · 3 years

Note

Regarding beloved toys becoming real a la the velveteen rabbit

ARCHIVIST

Statement of Matthew Calhoun, regarding a living childhood toy. Original statement given January 23, 1998. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

Statement begins.

ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

I didn’t have any friends as a kid. I’m not exaggerating – I didn’t have any. There’s always that one kid in every class who’s just… well, a reject, really. It sounds harsh to say, but I don’t really blame them for it. Of course, I would have preferred it if they’d just left me alone; ignored me rather than tormenting me, but that’s how it goes. I can’t excuse their cruelty, but I can excuse their dislike of me. I really, really can’t blame them. Now I’m an adult, looking back on it all, I really… well, is it bad to say it? I suppose I should just be honest. I’m about to admit to much worse. Alright – I hate my child self. I’m embarrassed by him. If I had a kid like that, I—I don’t know if I could say I wouldn’t love him, but let’s just say my sympathy would be limited if he was getting teased. I was unbearable as a child. I was a swotty little know-it-all; I snitched on my classmates; I always had a smart answer for everything. I’d try and get people to talk to me or hang out with me and when they didn’t want to, I’d stick my hand up and tell the teachers they were being mean. I was a grubby little kid, too, which wasn’t really my fault at all because my parents didn’t have a lot of money when I was growing up, but I had other gross habits I could have probably avoided. I didn’t like to brush my teeth, so my breath always stank. I picked my nose in class with absolutely no shame, wiping it underneath the desk. God, when I think about it now I could just throttle myself. Like I said, I don’t excuse the cruelty that my classmates – and sometimes my teachers – inflicted on me, but I do think back and wonder why I managed to feel so victimised over the fact nobody wanted to hang out with me. I mean, who the hell would? This, along with the fact I didn’t have much to do at home thanks to my parents’ low income, combined to make me both very bored and very lonely, and that’s what led to the reason I’m here today. It’s a confession, as much as anything else – the only reason I don’t want to go to the police is because I know they won’t believe me at all, whereas at least I stand a little chance of being believed here. Maybe then you can judge me accordingly. It’s what I deserve.

When I was eleven years old, I murdered one of my classmates. Her name was Vanessa Smith, and the newspapers reported that she had been attacked and mauled by dogs while walking home one late afternoon. Her injuries were so severe they couldn’t think of what else could do it. Of course, no dog was ever found. They tested so many of them, inspecting them for traces of blood, for pieces of human remains in their waste. Nothing showed up, because no dog killed Vanessa Smith. It was me. Alright, not by my own hand, but I was the cause of it. Let me try to explain.

When I was four or five, my grandmother read me a story called The Velveteen Rabbit. It’s a children’s story about a toy rabbit who comes to life because the little boy it belongs to loves it so much. I was fascinated by the idea, and for years believed that such a thing was possible. Unfortunately for me, I didn’t have any toy animals, or really any toys to begin with, because my parents really had no money at all. We lived in a tiny house where all of the furniture was on loan; we had one sofa, a wooden chair, a bare mattress to sleep on each, and really not much more. My parents were on a steady upward trajectory as I grew up, so by the time I made it to high school we were at least managing to present as normal, but when I was a kid my toys were whatever I could find in the garden. My parents would send me out the moment I got up and I’d come back in as it was getting dark; in the winter they let me stay out until bedtime, because it was warmer for me to be running around outside than sitting still in our heatless home. Those were cold, lonely hours, and as I grew I found myself thinking back time and time again to that story – about the power to give something life because it was so loved. I thought this was fully possible. I was only a kid, and kids will believe anything; that was also my general understanding of how babies were made – that two people loved one another so much that they created a third. Well, I didn’t have another person to help me, and I didn’t want a little brother or sister. I wanted a friend. The thought that I could bring a toy to life myself, just out of love, utterly consumed me.

First, though, I needed a toy. Even second-hand toys were out of the question, money-wise, and I had no friends to ask for cast-offs. In the end I improvised. I found a scrap of fabric from one of the old sheets my mother had fashioned into curtains, and I lay it flat on the ground and filled the centre with a few rocks for weight, and as many dry leaves as I could find. Then I pulled all four of the corners up, twisted the fabric down to meet the filling, and tied it off with an elastic band. The end result looked kind of like a radish, I guess, or a strangely shaped ghost. Still, a felt-tip pen gave it eyes and a friendly smile, and I even drew a couple of fangs at the corners of its mouth, just to make it a little more boyish. I called him Sammy, and he became my best friend. He went everywhere with me aside from school, because I knew damn well what the other kids would do to him. Outside of school, though? We were inseparable. We ate breakfast and dinner together, we went roaming around together, he watched me as I dug around in the back garden or on the trails behind the house. He sat on the toilet seat as I had my cold baths; he slept next to me in bed. When he got a little crushed and out of shape, or the leaves disintegrated beyond anything I could shape them back into, I would play at putting him to sleep so I could “operate” on him and fill him back up again. I still remember the glorious day that one of my parents’ pillows split beyond repair, and my mother, meaning well, I’m sure, gave me some of the stuffing for Sammy’s head. After that he was almost a proper stuffed toy, soft instead of jagged, but I think it was that improvement that doomed me. He got stronger after that. I started to dream about him.

I was eight when I first made Sammy. I was ten when the dreams started. At first he would just be there, normal as ever. I would be carrying him around, we’d be doing our thing. Then one day the dream was different. The two of us were sitting at the breakfast table and it was dark outside, but the sky was a strange, beating red. Sammy was sad; I knew this somehow. I asked him what was wrong, and he said to me, “I’ll never be a real boy without a heart”. Then he lay his head on the table and began to sob. I woke up, feeling utterly wretched; I wasn’t even scared. I pulled Sammy to me and cried myself. I was utterly despondent. I knew I had to do something, but what? That was when I realised I could make him a heart. It might not be great, but it would be something, right? That very morning I drew a heart on a piece of paper, coloured it in my most vibrant red, and tucked it into Sammy’s fabric, securely tied underneath the elastic band. I thought he seemed much happier after that, and increasingly I was certain that he wasn’t in the same place as I’d left him when I got back from school. This excited me, because I was sure it would work somehow. I loved Sammy more than anything. He was my only friend in the world. I knew that some day soon, Sammy would have to come to life.

The hearts kept getting crushed out of shape, or fraying, or otherwise getting worn. Every time they did, Sammy would whisper to me – no longer in dreams now. In my head, in my ear. His breath tickling my cheek, smelling of mulch. Always the same things. “I’ll never be a real boy without a heart.” I kept making new ones but he started getting angrier; they never lasted. “I’ll never be a real boy without a heart! I’ll never be a real boy without a heart!” I wanted to do my best for him but he was starting to scare me. I didn’t know what to do. I told him this. For the first time, I got the impression he was mad at me for being sad, when he never had been before. But what could I do?

I got my answer the summer I turned eleven. The rabbit had been left right out on the trail I always walked to get from my parents’ house and into the woods behind it. It had been mauled by something – a fox, I thought – but not eaten. Its chest was open, and its small little heart was right there for the taking. I don’t know why I did it. It was disgusting, and what’s more I knew that if I put a real heart in Sammy it was going to rot, and stink, and Mum would make me throw him out. I knew all this, but I still couldn’t stop myself. I walked quite calmly to the rabbit, carefully pinched its heart between my fingers, and pulled it free. It came so easily. Nothing needed to be cut or wrenched; it just slid out, and within moments it was tucked inside Sammy. I heard it begin to beat.

Sammy wasn’t mine after that. I still tried to love him, but I was scared of him. I couldn’t understand what had happened. I thought love was supposed to be a good thing, you know? That’s what I’d been told. I wondered what it meant, that my love had created this. Everyone else’s love created nice things, fun things, safe things, warm things. My love had created this… this monster, this wretched little thing… I loved it out of fear. I was too afraid to let it know of my contempt, because I didn’t know what it would do to me. I think it knew anyway, of course. I think it knew I feared it; I think it realised, on some level, that I still had some of the power. I could throw it into the fireplace, for example. I thought about that a few times; even thought about asking my mum or dad to do it for me, act like I grew out of Sammy and was embarrassed of him. Sammy could sense it. I could have done it, I think, when it had the rabbit heart. Only a small heart, a rabbit heart. Not good for too much exertion. But I hesitated, because I was scared, and I thought if I ignored it and just left the heart to finally fail – because it had to eventually, right? – Sammy would be back to begging me in dreams and I could get rid of him – of it – once and for all.

That’s not what happened. I was out playing in the woods, must have been August. It was near to school starting back, and I was stressed about it because for me that was a line in the sand. I’d tried to tell myself I’d get rid of Sammy before I started Big School, high school, you know, but I hadn’t done anything and I was really wigging out about it. Sammy was with me, of course, sitting propped up against a rock while I dug around in the mud by a small stream. I guess it was the running of the water that muffled the footsteps, because when I finally heard them and turned, it was too late. Vanessa was stepping out from between the bushes, and her eyes had locked on Sammy. She wasn’t ever overly cruel to me at school, but she laughed with the rest of them whenever I was being put through the torment of the day, and like all kids that age she had it in her to be cruel. I was frightened of her, in the same way I was frightened of all my classmates, and the look on her face as she looked between me and Sammy told me this was going to be wholly unpleasant. I just adopted the stance, you know: feet together, eyes down. Waiting for abuse. She asked me if this was my toy, and then she went on to tell me how stupid and ugly it was, and then she went on about me getting some real toys, oh, wait, you can’t afford that… normal stuff, and at least she wasn’t going to hit me, because the girls never beat me up. She did go to pick up Sammy, though, and I yelled at her not to. Not out of any protectiveness towards Sammy, but because I was scared. Vanessa didn’t know Sammy like I did. She hadn’t noticed Sammy’s beady little drawn-on eyes somehow managing to swivel, to follow her, to lock onto her. The way his smile widened slightly, and I finally noticed how many teeth he had.

“I’ll never be a real boy without a heart.”

She reached down to snatch Sammy up. She was saying she was going to throw him into the stream. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even call out a final warning. She reached down and he was on her. I still didn’t see him move. He was just… there, and there was blood, and I could hear something tearing, and Vanessa was screaming so loudly. I should have helped. I should have tried to do something, but I was too scared. When I finally managed to move it was to run away. I fled through the woods, not bothering to keep to the trails. I ran blindly, crashing through the undergrowth, falling, dragging myself up. When I got home my parents were both at work. I scrubbed myself, scrubbed the worst of the mud from my clothing, tried to breathe. Tried to convince myself that I had seen it wrong. Vanessa would be fine, right? I even managed to tell myself Sammy was scaring her for me, sticking up for me. I waited in terror for Sammy to come home, but he never did. I was glad, but I also… I mean, it’s always better when you can see the danger, right? The thought that Sammy was out there, of what he might do… but I never saw Sammy again.

Vanessa – or what was left of her – was found the following morning. The woods aren’t big. Pretty much as soon as it was light, search parties found her. I don’t think anyone was happy with the dog story. I’ve avoided looking it up over the years, but I’ve heard things here and there. I know they say that the injuries inflicted on her were severe, even for a large dog. It’s more like something you would expect from a bear, or a big cat. Plus none of her was eaten, I don’t think. I mean, I’ve never heard it. Nobody suspected me, because why would they? My parents didn’t even ask about where Sammy had gone. I guess they figured I’d finally grown out of it.

I don’t know if there’s anything you can do with this statement, or if you’ll even believe it. I doubt there’s much room for research. I just wanted to tell somebody. Maybe if I was religious this is the point where I might go to confession, ask to be absolved. I’m not religious, though, and I’m not sure I can be absolved of this. That’s it.

ARCHIVIST

Statement ends.

Mr Calhoun is right. Not much can be done in regards to looking into this further. Attempts to reach Mr Calhoun for a follow-up statement were thoroughly unsuccessful thanks to the fact that he committed suicide shortly after making this statement. The records show that eleven-year-old Vanessa Smith was indeed mauled to death by a large dog or dogs in August 1971, though the story never really gained traction in national newspapers and further information is scarce. Martin spent an afternoon looking through online newspaper archives for the area and managed to find only one piece of new information; something that could easily be dramatization considering the fact it stopped being reported within twenty-four hours. I include it here only because it seems significant regarding Mr Calhoun’s story. Apparently young Miss Smith’s body was badly mauled but mostly uneaten – there was only one missing body part, believed eaten, and that was her heart.

Aside from that, there is nothing new to say about this one.

End recording.

#tma #statement prompts #my writing #fakements #long post #anon #asks

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christ0pher-evans · 3 years

Text

Never Ever

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, edging / angst / dom mentions

A/N: This one shot has been on my brain for ages and I couldn’t get it all down on paper quick enough, apologies for the length, I just couldn’t stop writing. I’m not even sure I like this but I’m posting it because it took forever! This is based on Taylor Swifts ‘We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together’ ENJOY. Please reblog and like🖤

(4.7k words)

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“We hadn’t seen each other in a month, when you said you needed space”

Two years. Two exclusive years on the arm of Hugh Ransom Drysdale. When you first met Ransom, naturally, you never thought that he would be someone who wanted to settle down, or that you would be the person he would want to settle down with. He was boisterous, self-centred and just obscenely rude but not with you, no matter what attitude he gave you, you gave it right back, showing that Ransom had finally met his perfect match. You were both such similar people and you truly believed that it was what bought you together, even though the universe tries to tell you that opposites attract. In life, you are conditioned to believe that there is a soulmate somewhere on the planet for you, and bizarrely you were starting to believe Ransom was just that, your soulmate.

You both had such loud personalities, insatiable sex drives and unmatched confidence; all reasons why you suited so well. However you both also had very demanding jobs, which meant it was often difficult to make time for one another. You didn’t live with Ransom therefore actually seeing each other in person was a challenge, but it never seemed too problematic because you were always on the phone or at least texting. At times, you were both guilty of being too busy for one another but you were deemed such a strong couple as well as independent individuals that it had never worried you. However, that didn’t stop your current excitement as you unlocked Ransom’s front door and let yourself into his place after a whole month apart. You hung your coat on the rack, removed your shoes and placed your bag on the table before looking through the open plan kitchen/living area, trying to locate Ransom. “Babe! Where are you? Sorry I’m late, work was hectic!”, you shouted awaiting a reply but there was only silence. You simply shrugged and made your way into the kitchen, helping yourself to a generous glass of wine, well deserved after your busy week. With your back to the room and your gaze preoccupied out the kitchen window at the autumn leaves, you felt Ransoms arms around your waist before you saw him. He gave you a tight squeeze, mumbling in your ear, “God, I missed you angel."

It wasn’t long before Ransom was carrying you over to the sofa, gently throwing you down onto it and admiring his view. Looking up at him, you could see dark circles under his eyes from working too much and frown lines from always carrying such an attitude but you could also see the softest smile as he held his gaze on you. You kept your eyes on each other, fidgeting slightly at the anticipation and breathing heavily at the sexual tension in the air, wondering who would make the first move. “I am going to devour you angel. Almost forgot what you tasted like, its been so long”, you bit your lip as the words rolled off his tongue, instantly turned on by them. You rolled your eyes as Ransom held still, watching him as he waited for you to make the first move, wanting to see you submit control and beg for him. Around Ransom you never held your nerve long, so giving in and pulling him on top of you on the sofa was the quickest way to get what you desired. His hands falling to either side of your head, you were now kissing with such desperation with tongues and teeth attacking one another anywhere they could; lips, neck, chest. Ransom sat you up so he could unzip your dress, pulling it off of you with no care, then pulled his own top over his head and discarded it on the floor with your dress before stealing your lips in another passionate kiss. You felt totally weak under his grip, simply letting him do whatever he pleased with you. He pushed you back and started trailing kisses down your body towards your core, removing your panties whilst you were distracted by his lips. Before you could even catch your breath, he was devouring you like he had promised. His mouth felt like it was over every inch of your core, fingers teasingly dipping in and out of your hole and it was barely minutes before you were cumming all over his fingers and face, moaning so loudly you were sure anyone within a 10 mile radius would hear you.

“Fuck Ransom! I swear you get better at that every time!”, you panted as he stared at you with a cocky grin whilst leaning back on the sofa, licking his fingers clean. “Well I think I deserve a reward, wouldn’t you say angel?”, you sat up and just smirked at him. “I’d hurry up and get on your knees if I were you”, by using his threatening tone, he knew you’d do anything for him, so you stood up on shaky legs, still reeling from your orgasm. You knelt before him, opening your mouth delicately and letting Ransom bring his cock to you, giving him another rush of domination. He constantly liked to be in charge of you and you had no qualms with it when he had that orgasmic look on his face whilst he fucked your mouth. He reached forward, placing his hand on the back of your head, pushing you all the way down on his cock, drawing an immediate gag from you. “That is honestly the sweetest god damn sound on this planet!”, you looked up as he spoke and fluttered your eyes seductively as his thrusts started to pull tears from your eyes at the intensity that he was forcing himself down your throat with.

Some time later and you were both laying naked on the sofa, blanket lazily thrown over your nestled bodies whilst some trash TV played in the background. You were tracing patterns on Ransom’s back, absentmindedly wondering how long it would be before Ransom whisked you upstairs to bed for a whole night of obscene i missed you sex. You were so distracted by your thoughts that you almost missed the words he whispered softly against your chest.

“I need space..”, you started shuffling away slightly, observing his request.

“Sorry baby, I thought you were comfy!”, a weak smile graced Ransoms face before he repeated himself, but slower and with more emphasis. “No, I need space..”, you raised an eyebrow confused, “..space, from us.”

You were absolutely dumbfounded by what Ransom was saying, certain you were misunderstanding, “What do you mean?”. He just looked at you and kept quiet, not even offering a further explanation as to why he had invited you here, had his wicked way with you before telling you he wanted space from your committed relationship. As if on impulse, you started to get dressed to leave, not wanting to spend another minute around him. “Y/N, you don’t have to leave”, that was when you saw red. “Like fuck I don’t!! We haven’t seen each other in like a month, I come here excited to see you, then you get your fucking dick wet before telling me you need some space! Space from what? Our relationship might as well be long distance at this point, now you need more space from me! Fuck you Ransom, you absolute chickenhearted piece of shit!”, you didn’t even look back as you stormed out of his place, before getting in your car and speeding off without giving him another look. All you could remember was screaming in anger and confusion as you drove all the way back to the comfort of your own bed.

“Baby, I miss you and I swear I’m gonna change, trust me” Remember how that lasted for a day?

It had barely been two days since you left Ransom’s the evening he told you he needed space and you were still pretty pissed with what happened. You were still in shock that he has asked for space and still hadn’t tried to contact you to at least explain himself. Assuming you were broken up and he was getting his dick wet elsewhere was the only reason you could tell your brain that he wouldn’t want to be with you anymore, the thought of anything else upset you stupid amounts. 2am and you were laying in bed, tossing and turning, trying to get some sleep without dreaming of Ransom and his hands all over your body, you were physically craving him. From the moment you slept with Ransom, you knew he had ruined you for all other men, it was obvious no one could be better than him sexually. Your phone started vibrating and it snapped you out of your tormenting fantasy. Looking over at your phone, you saw Ransoms name and had to pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t actually in some twisted dream, but his name really was there and he really was calling you at 2am.

“Ransom, why are you calling me?”, you answered harshly but were quickly silenced by the blaring music and mumbled voices coming through your speaker.

“Y/N, angel, please don’t hang up!” You could almost smell the amount of whiskey he must have consumed through the phone, his voice stumbling over every word he spoke.

“I miss you. You’re so fucking sexy. The things I would do to you right now. I love you. I shouldn’t have told you I needed space. I’m gonna change, just for you, trust me. Fuck, I love you!”, he rambled on and on and you kept telling yourself that he didn’t mean any of it, he was too fucked up to remember any of this tomorrow anyway. You just disconnected the call, throwing your phone back onto the bedside table and hiding under your duvet, hoping that sleep would consume you soon.

You awoke early on Saturday morning, groaning as you saw it was only 9am. After the week you had endured, you were hoping to sleep till at least midday. Deciding that you definitely couldn’t get back to sleep, you settled on a relaxing bubble bath that might at least help towards an afternoon nap later. After an excessive self-care morning, you were dancing around the kitchen in your sweats, making an extremely late brunch. By the time you’d cleaned up the kitchen, it was pushing towards 2pm and you settled on a movie day. Halfway through ‘Mamma Mia’, you were rudely interrupted by the doorbell. You weren’t expecting anyone so when you opened the door and saw Ransom with the biggest bunch of your favourite flowers, you couldn’t help but smile. You didn’t let him straight in, your back still up about the past couple of days. Ransom was clearly nervous, his body language oozing with guilt and you started to wonder if he really did feel terrible about what happened between you both. “Y/N, my angel. I’m so sorry about the way I called you last night but I’m not sorry about what I said, I meant every word..”, bewildered was the only way to describe your demeanour because it was so unlike Ransom to share his feelings with you, but here he was in front of you, baring his soul. You hesitantly let him in, quickly noticing the bag full of treats hidden behind his back as you both walked awkwardly to the kitchen. Watching Ransom pull out all your favourite snacks, you favourite bottle of wine and put the flowers in a vase, you could really feel yourself starting to believe that he was sorry, pondering if it was just a momentary freak out the other day.

You had slipped right back into relationship territory with Ransom that afternoon; chatting, laughing, eating. Ransom was feeding you chocolate covered strawberries, often caressing your cheek or running his fingers through your hair whilst he listened to every word you spoke and simply looking at you with such love and adoration. It might have been the couple of glasses of wine you’d drunk or the endless intimate touches from Ransom but you had never wanted him more than in this moment, your mind and body plagued with your carnal needs.

Hours had passed and it was fully dark outside, possibly into the early hours of the morning but you were still writhing under Ransom, an endless span of almosts as he continued edging you until you were completely his. “Ran, please, I can’t..”, you whimpered as he thrust back into you for what felt like the thousandth time with no release, every part of your body screaming with sensitivity. He just smirked at you and continued at his relentless pace that made you believe he was finally going to let you cum, but stilling immediately as you started to clench around him. Panting, he nibbled on your ear before mumbling seductively, “You’re so fucking hot when you’re begging for me, begging for my cock!”, and then you snapped. You mustered every physical fragment of strength you could to push against Ransoms chest, flipping you over so you were straddling him, pushing your hands against his chest to hold yourself up to try and assert some facade of dominance. Yet, whimpers were falling from your mouth as his cock reached deeper inside you, your legs shaking with complete exhaustion that still proved that Ransom had complete control over you.

Ransom could only look up at you in awe but also a new height of desire, “Fuck angel, that’s it. I want to see you make yourself cum all over my cock!”

Hearing his words, it didn’t take long for you to build back up to the edge, riding Ransom like your life depended on it. He still had control over your movements, gripping your hips and grinding them into him so you could feel every vein on his impressive cock. Lifting you up slightly so he could start pounding up into you, it didn’t take long before you were coming undone over him. Your legs were shaking, screams of pure adrenaline leaving you and eyes rolling back in your head as your overwhelming orgasm lingered. Ransom growled, bringing you back to some semblance of reality, indicating he was close to meeting his own orgasm. He looked up at you like there was no one else in the world he would want to be with, as he held you from collapsing into his chest, still violently thrusting up into you to reach his peak. Every inch of you body felt like it was burning all over again, an onslaught of euphoric pleasure heading straight back to your core as you clenched around him, “Shit angel, are you going to cum for me again?” Your eyes rolled back again as you felt your second orgasm approaching, not even confident your body could take anymore, “Ran, baby, please..” You didn’t even know what you were asking for anymore but somehow he knew exactly what you needed. He pulled your body down to him, your lips smashing together sloppily as he thrusted fiercely one final time before grinding your body over his continuously till you were both cumming together, a magical romanticism to the detached feeling you had from your body.

As you were falling asleep, completely exhausted from the ethereal feelings and emotions you’d experienced over the past few hours with Ransom, your body sometimes still twitching from pleasure, you felt him pull you into his body and whisper how much he loved you and you truly felt whole again.

Waking up the next morning, before you felt anything else, you felt sore, fully spent in the most glorious way and you were smiling at the thought of another day in bed with Ransom before you’d even opened your eyes. As you carefully stretched out, you noticed the emptiness and blanket of cold in your bed and wondered where Ransom was. Upon opening your eyes, you immediately felt the void atmosphere of your house, the stillness of the buzz and the nothingness in your heart. You knew in that moment, Ransom was gone and you had been used like a meaningless one night stand.

“We called it off again last night”

You were never a girl that pined after a guy but you had spent the past three day trying to contact Ransom. After that blissful day and night you spent together, where you fully opened up to one another physically and emotionally, you truly believed that you had something special that neither of you wanted to jeopardise. You knew that Ransom was hesitant about the commitment but with your support, he saw how the idea of having someone by your side forever was amazing. Ransom was yet to pick up one of your calls but all you wanted was answers, you deserved that. So without much deliberation, you turned up at his place one evening after work. You knocked on the door with intention, but your body screamed nervousness. Fidgeting on the spot, partially from the cold but also because you were anxious and didn’t know what would happen once Ransom opened the door. The door soon whipped open with an annoyed looking Ransom on the other side, but as soon as his eyes landed on you, they softened.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?”, you twirled the ends of your hair round your fingers, a nervous habit you recently picked up and all anger dissipated from your body, deciding a shouting match wasn’t the best method of attack.

“Um, I was hoping we could talk?”, and without even hesitating, he was letting you in and leading you into the familiar kitchen. Sitting with a glass of wine opposite Ransom at the breakfast bar, you started running your finger round the rim of the glass and wondering where to start with this awkward conversation.

“So I just wanted to talk about us. I want to know why you left before I woke up the other morning?”, you held a straight face trying to appear confident, you wanted answers but you also wanted him to know that you weren’t here for a fight.

“You know, you’ve always looked like such an angel when you slept, that’s why I started calling you that..”, he absentmindedly confessed. You were swooning inside at his words, but tried to keep your composure before continuing, “Ran, I'm serious..” For at least 20 minutes, it was back and forth tediously, you were trying to ask him serious questions whilst he cleverly avoided them but spoke about you like you were a literal goddess sent from heaven for him to worship. You were avoiding your glass of wine to keep a clear head, deciding upon a different approach to try and get Ransom to open up, showing him your commitment to the relationship, “Ransom..”, he looked into your eyes with enchantment. “You know how much I love you right?”, the look of softness had rapidly turned into a look of desire. Before you could say another word, Ransom had lifted you off the stool and pinned you up against the closest wall, his mouth forcing itself on yours, battling for your submission. His passion was infectious and you couldn’t help but give in, channelling your love into your touches and kisses, showing him exactly how you felt. Whilst your lips were fighting for some feign of dominance, your hands were clawing at the bottom of his top, wanting to cling onto any trace of intimacy between you. With one of his arms keeping you pinned to the wall and the other trailing down your body towards where you craved him, you could feel his moans vibrating through your body and his cock starting to push against your clothes. Palming him through his sweats, you matched his moans with the thought of where this was leading, biting his lip to convey you were ready to take this further.

“Oh angel, this new arrangement we’ve got is way better!”, he mumbled so faintly against your lips that it almost went unnoticed, but you knew what you heard, loud and clear Ransom was telling you that being friends with benefits was much better than your committed relationship. Completely humiliated, you were pushing him away from you and erasing any ounce of his touch from your skin.

“Y/N, what the fuck!”, Ransom began to approach you again like he was going to punish you in the most delicious way but you shook your head and stepped away from him, eager to get out of there.

“You.. Ransom, what the fuck! You..”, struggling to speak without crying, you took a deep breath before looking him dead in the eye, no emotion on your face. “Does our relationship really mean that little to you? Do I really mean that little to you? You’ve strung me along for a week just so you could keep getting your dick wet! You don’t deserve me, you don’t deserve my love! You fucking prick!”, you can’t even bare to give him a second look once you start walking towards the door, desperate to rid yourself of him permanently. The last thing you heard was Ransom yelling something incoherent as you slammed the door behind you.

“I’m really gonna miss you picking fights, and me falling for it, screaming that I’m right”

“Ran, don’t be ridiculous! He wasn’t even paying attention to me, he was our waiter for crying out loud!”, you slumped down on the sofa as you stormed into his place after a gorgeous meal at your favourite restaurant, celebrating your one year anniversary. Ransom was quick in the door behind you, throwing his jacket over the arm of the sofa in a huff before sitting down next to you. “Oh please Y/N, don’t be so ignorant! You knew he was looking at you and you were enjoying it, I saw you smiling at him as he poured you more wine!”, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his bizarre perspective on your politeness towards your server. You couldn’t help but let out a little laugh as his stupidity, “Babe, I was just being polite. You know I only want to be with you. You’d think that was pretty obvious with the way you were strutting around the restaurant with my panties hanging out your trouser pocket!” Now it was Ransoms turn to laugh, looking down towards the deep blue lace peaking out the pocket of his trousers, a pretty obvious attempt at dominance. You sat up quickly and snatched your panties out of his pocket, chucking them on the floor in annoyance, initially you thought it was sexy that he wanted to show everyone you belonged to him, but now it just seemed like a pathetic bid at control.

“I don’t want to argue about this Ran. I’m my own person and you can’t control my interactions with other human beings just because you think you own me!”, you huffed, standing up frustrated at his misogynistic view. “If you can’t see that I love you and want to be with only you, then I just can’t be fucked with your insecure ass!”, you huffed again, annoyed at the look of smugness he was giving you as you shouted at him, throwing your arms about in irritation.

“Oh angel, you are so fucking sexy when you’re angry..”, again you rolled your eyes at his playfulness during a serious conversation, but quickly understood he was just saying all this to get a rise out of you, to wind you up to the point of frustration so he could make it up to you in whatever way he wanted. Before you’d even calmed down, he was pulling you over his lap, smoothing his hand over your ass before slowing trailing it down your leg to the seam of your dress and pulling it back up to expose your bare backside.

“You’re mine Y/N, every part of you is mine and I wouldn’t want it any other way. I never want another man to look at you, because I only ever want you to look at me!”, and even in your compromising position, you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell at Ransoms admission of pure devotion to you.

“However, now, I think you need punishing for the way you spoke to me, what do you think angel?” All you could do was bite your lip and nod your head, already anticipating the first spanking. Ransom was running his hands over your ass, dipping down into your dripping core every now and again, pulling whimpers from your lips. When the first spank came, you squealed in gratifying pain and awaited the second.

“What do you say angel?”, he fingers dipping back towards your core, “T-thank you sir.” You were wriggling around over his lap, prompting Ransom to hurry up but also to create some friction over his trousers, feeling the stir of his cock pushing into your stomach. “Please, Ransom, again..” *SMACK*

You startled awake as you heard a crash, quickly sitting up on the sofa and looking around, noticing your phone had dropped onto the wood floor. You sighed and wiped the layer of sweat on your forehead, realising you were dreaming about Ransom, wondering if it meant anything or if it was just your heart beginning to heal from the pain. Smiling lightly at the fond memory, you picked your phone up, unlocking it and bringing up Ransoms name in your contacts, intent on deleting his number. It had only been a week since you left Ransom but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, still not ready to admit defeat on your relationship.

“So he calls me up and he's like ‘I still love you’, I mean this is exhausting, you know?”

A month had passed and you had fully submerged yourself into work, your business thriving and your heart sort of on the mend from Ransom. You knew it would be a long road because you had spent two years of your life deeply in love with him, but it felt like the chains around your heart were finally loosening and you could breathe without constant hurt. You were determined to come out of this a new person. You were heading home from work on time, ready to try and make a new lasagne recipe you had seen online. Once you were set up in your kitchen, you opened the recipe on your phone and began to chop vegetables. You were entirely focused, welcoming the soft music flowing through the house until your phone startled you out of your bubble. You wiped your hands dry quickly before picking up your phone to see who was calling, your whole body freezing at the name on the screen -Ransom- Debating whether it was a smart idea to answer, you realised you would be just as bad as Ransom if you didn’t pick up. You took a deep breath before answering, leg twitching in anticipation of hearing his voice.

“Hello?”

“Y/N”, your breath caught in your throat at the sound of his voice.

“Hi Ran”, mentally, you cursed yourself for using his nickname.

“I’m so happy you answered, I was worried you wouldn’t. It’s so good to hear your voice angel!”

“Well, I did. Is everything ok?”, you tried to sound tough, even though you were already weakening from his effortless flirting.

“Yeah, everything is fine. Well not everything, I miss you.” You didn’t speak for a minute, completely taken aback by his words.

“Angel, you still there?”

“Um, yeah sorry.. I’m here, just processing. You miss me? Even after everything that happened?”

“After everything, I miss you. I still love you. I fucking love you so much Y/N!” Your heart was doing somersaults, your breathing barely keeping up with your emotions but your head, your head was screaming at you to not go down this road again, to not let him knock back down the walls you’d only just built. What could you even say to him? Your soulmate, baring his heart to you again, but only after he tore it into a few thousand pieces.

“Ransom, this is exhausting..”

#ransomdrysdale #ransomdrysdalexreader #knivesout #chrisevans #cevans #fanfiction #oneshot #smut #taylorswiftlyrics #ransomdrysdalefanfiction

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dabis-girl · 4 years

Text

Mine pt.2 | Dabi x Reader | Smut 18+

A/N: its been way too long my loves lets just say I’ve been busy. Anyways this is a follow up to the very first fic I ever published on here. Not sure if this will be come a whole thing but let’s just see where this goes.

Warnings/ Tags: Dubcon, breeding kink, humiliation ( I think that it but let me know.

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: After your last encounter you distance yourself from your evil lover and he doesn’t take too kindly to that.

Read Part One Here

It had been 3 weeks since the last time you had seen Dabi, you had been ignoring his calls and texts. He had gone to far last time usually, you could keep up with his sadistic practices but you had never been okay with being fucking into of a stranger. It appeared that he realized that he had gone too far this time, he had even sent you a gift box filled with lace thongs the replace the one that he had given away. You couldn’t quite place your finger on what upset you the most about that night. What it how he made you into a spectacle or like his property, no one had ever treated you like that.

You tried your best to focus on training and trying to get recruited by a professional hero agency hopefully, you could get pick up as a sidekick. Training had fallen by the wayside after you met Dabi, proving that he was only a distraction. It’s not like he was too supportive of your hero dreams anyway, he always teased you about wanting to be a hero. He didn’t believe that you had it into, not with your weakness being you damned evil lover, there was no way you could hurt him on purpose even if you had to. It wasn’t easy, but you had to put all of that to the back of your mind while you completed your last year at UA.

It had been so long since you had slept with the window open, you used to leave it open for Dabi to sneak in but you missed the way having a window open made the room less claustrophobic. You had meant to close it before you went to sleep but you have drifted off while watching a movie. You woke up in the middle of the night and the tv was off and the room was pitch black, the moonlight poured through the window reminding you that it needed to closed. It was too late, he was at the edge of the bed staring down at you with a starved look on his face. He had scared you making you retreat to the corner of the bed, he stood over you with a small blue flame sitting atop the palm of his hand. Weeks had passed since he’d slutted you out and completely embarrassed you in front of his colleague, that was the last night you two had seen each other. That night you told him you never wanted to see him again.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls.” He said as he looked down at you with a menacing grin.

“I told you we have to stop, Dabi. “ You said clutching the blanket off the bed. In that same instant, he’d quickly put out the flame and harshly grasped your face with is rough scarred hand.

“And why is that? Am I getting in the way of your hero dreams?” He teased keeping a firm grip on your jaw. “I bet you’re dripping right now, thinking about what I’m going to do to you.“ You shake your head and he tightens his grip. “Let me finish little girl.” He growled. “I know what you need, to make this all better. You need me to drag your slutty ass out into that hallway and make you beg me to fuck you, in front of all of your stupid friends. “ He let out a laugh that scared you but also made you even wetter. “ Am I right?” This humiliation kink that he’d developed was one that you’d never be able to escape.

You knew that you were already wet, your cunt had started drooling the moment you laid eyes on him, it was out of your control. As much as you could try and deny it he knew that you were just as disturbed as he was. You tried your hardest to be opposed to his twisted fantasies, but he had no qualms about shoving his hand down your pants and seeing for himself. This is the reason he constantly taunted you because he knew your protests were empty.

You didn’t answer and angered him so he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder heading for the door. You kicked and fought him until he finally released you. He gazed at you and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he began to cress your face and leaned in for a kiss, painting his lips on yours. He tased like ash and whiskey, his taste excited you as you leaned into his kiss. Just as he as placed a hand on your lower back you sank your teeth hard enough into his lip to draw blood. He reflexively pinned you to the wall, with a loud thud you could feel my slit silkening beneath him as the bulge in his pants strained against you.

“What the fuck?” He spat through gritted teeth. Licking the blood that oozed from his wound he smiled at you. “Playing hard to get tonight I see.” He chuckled

“Get off of me.” You didn’t even believe the words as they came out of your mouth. Wiping away your saliva he wasn’t angry like you thought he’d be instead, the look on his face was one of amusement. He liked to chase, and you were playing his favorite game.

“Tell me I’m wrong and you don’t want me. “ He said as his hand traveled down the length of your torso to your thin cotton underwear to tease your clit. “Come on say the word and I’ll stop.” He teased. You thought that you’d had more willpower than this, not a single word of protest left your mouth instead you soft moans peppered the air. He had instructed you to lay on the bed, you didn’t move.

Your hesitance perplexed him, by the point you had usually given in. Alas, here you were standing in the same place that he had left you. His eyes narrowed as you were challenging his authority. He took a stance in front of you and folded his arm across his chest, the ice glare of his turquoise eyes caused goosebumps to erupt over your skin. His patience was wearing thin, you had never seen him this angry at least not at you.

“What now?’ His voice was flat and gravelly impatiently peering down at you. Your chest heaved as each breath was heavier than the next.

“I told you that we have to stop Dabi.” You deified your body calling out for him. This performance wasn’t any more convincing than your last. “ Can you leave?” You managed to choke out with almost no conviction.

“This again?” He rolled his eyes. “ Fine, we’ll just have to do this the hard way, Doll.” He said just as his hand seized around your neck. “That’s what I thought.” He chuckled as he threw you onto the bed.

You didn’t fight back, Dabi glared down at you as you laid on the bed with no further protests. He tormented you for being a slut and making him go through all this trouble, he called it a sick fantasy. Dabi was a sadistic lover and it made sense that he would all of this would just feed into the twisted mind. A feeling of unease washed over you as you thought about what you were doing, playing into his perverted delusions. As much as you’d hate to admit it you were just as sick as he was, enjoying yourself like this.

He was standing over you while you had assumed your position on the bed, eyes pleading with him. He kneeled between your legs removing your panties and for a moment he just stared at your exposed mound in all its slick glory. He reached out a finger nuzzling it betwixt your folds reveling in what he’d done to you. The twitching of your clit caught his attention, he said that it was if she was dancing for him. He was purposefully ignoring your needy clit, causing you to thrust your hips towards him causing your throbbing bud to brush ever so slightly against the bridge of his nose. The sudden contact caused your body to shudder, craving more you buck your hips with even more force. Dabi had grown tired of your impatience, he grabbed roughly grabbed at your inner thighs forcefully pushing you back.

“For someone that was so set on wanting me out of their life, you are acting a bit desperate now, aren’t you?” He taunted. “ I should make you beg for being a defiant little brat, make you submit to me finally. Maybe I’ll take you with me, this hero school is getting to your head.” He ranted still gripping your thighs. Your feral whines were making it hard for him to hold out. “ Your pleasure is in my hands and I don’t hear any begging” He cupped his hand behind his ear. You bit your lip in an effort to hold back your moans and pleas, angering him more. It worked, he was livid, abruptly he let go of your legs and stood. “Fine, I’ll leave.” He said plainly, making his way to the window.

“Please.” You gasped scrambling to the edge of the bed following after him. “Dabi... please stay.” You said gripping at his shirt pulling back toward the bed. He looked down at you viciously before shrugging you off.

“Why should I?” Dabi said coldly, your facial expression dropped at his words. You pleaded with him apologizing for your actions. “With all the stunts you’ve pulled today you’re lucky I’ve kept my composure.” Dabi ranted, he was frustrated this dynamic was getting old. Tonight was going to be your last night in the dorms and you hadn’t the slightest idea. He began to unbutton his pants freeing his dick, allowing it to spring up and bounce off of his lean torso. The same one that had violated you so sweetly as you were bent over the armrest of a filthy sofa. “Show me your sorry slut.” He commanded.

You reached out and wrapped your fingers around his dick satisfied with the weight of him. Stroking him admiring the bulbous tip, you hungrily licked your lips as you watched a bead of precum dribble out of the tip. You took him into your mouth, he moaned as he watched his length disappear as you sucked him down allowing him to bottom out. In the back of your throat.

“Fuck.” He moaned, grasping the top of your head as you bobbed up and down around him. He had begun to thrust his hips into your mouth causing you to sputter and drool. He shoved himself down your throat savagely, wrecking your throat. Finally, he halted his assault letting you up for air admiring the thick string of saliva that connected the two of you. Looking up at him you could see the lust in his eyes, his gaze was it’s most ferocious as swooped you up laying down on your back, knees parted waiting for him to fill you.

He trailed his length over your slit coating his dick in your wetness before teasing at your entrance. It was apparent that things would go differently tonight, it wasn’t normal the way he was acting. Usually, he would devour quickly as he was a very busy man but now he seemed to want to take his time. At last, he sank into you at a devilishly slow-pace you let out a loud yelp as he entered you fully before withdrawing before slamming into you with no mercy. His hands moved to grip your ankles forcing your legs further apart and his thrusts seemed even deeper than before. Dabi was looking you in your eyes while he penetrated you, he watched your face contort as he pummeled into you.

He withdrew himself from you and flipped you over onto your stomach. Planting his hands on your hips he pulled your ass into the air, you felt his tongue on your clit sucking and slurping up the juices that flowed out of you. Without warning he rammed into roughly once again picking up a vicious pace, he continued to reach around and grab you neck lifting your head off of the bed he adjusted his grip so that his hand grasped your jaw. The arch of you back deepened and Dabi leaned down to plant a kiss on your forehead. It was abnormal for him to show this type of affection during sex but you weren’t opposed in fact you found your pussy clenching around him. Dabi continued to push you off of him, grabbing your hair to align your face with his pelvis he entered your mouth again.

“Look at you.” He gleamed. “You look so good cleaning up your mess.” He brushed his fingers through your hair while he watched you slobber on his dick. Having had enough he pushed you back onto the bed entering you with a primal force. He pushed himself into you repeatedly hitting your spongy core.

“Yes Dabi, please.” You begged for your release knowing that he’d give it to you. At this point, you were out of control writhing beneath him, your hands searched for something to grasp. At first, it was the sheets, but you had managed to pull them completely off the bed and they were now bunched around the bodies of you and your lover. The next attempts were the pillows but Dabi had snatched them away from you so that you’d end up gripping at his wrists. Your release was close and he could tell by the way that pussy was tightening around him.

“Cum for me Doll. “ Dabi said before he kissed you. Like clockwork, you came undone beneath him. Seconds later he came himself thrusting harder into you to burry his seed, he let out a throaty groan as the walls of your cunt milked him. He’d never came inside of you before, it shocked you especially considering the be knew you weren’t on birth control. You jumped off of him and watched in disbelief as his seed dripped out of you. “Congratulations you’re gonna be a mommy.” He laughed. “Now get your things you’re coming with me.” He said.

“What do you mean? “ You spoke with confusion. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You can either come with me now or wait a few months for your stomach to swell and people to start asking questions.” He said as he zipped his pants. “The choice is yours.” He shrugged. He hoped that his plan would work he didn’t know if you were actually pregnant but may you were shocked enough to take his words at face value.

“You’re right. “ You said defeated. There was no way to pinpoint what you were feeling, the mix of emotions were bittersweet. On one hand, you were leaving behind everything you had worked so hard for, and on the other, you were going to be with the man that you love carrying his child maybe.

Ultimately you decided that Dabi was too good to give up as if he’d ever let you go anyways.

#mha dabi #bnha dabi #my hero academia #boko no hero academia #mha smut #dabi x reader #mha villains #my hero fanfic #Bnha writing blog #mha imagines

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criminalmindsmad · 4 years

Text

Are you finished?

This one is SO long (3400 words long lol), and I must’ve been real moody when I wrote this but please don’t be mad at me! I’ve merged 2 requests together because they may have been very similar had I not! Let me know what you think! Leave any comments in replies or in the tags if you reblog ❤️- Ash x

Requests:

-Something angsty for hotch, i know this is very broad but idm what you choose to do with it since all of your stories are amazing!!

-Can I request a Hotch x reader where they’re close/kinda flirty and work well together but then Hotch is suddenly really cold to her because he realised he has feelings for her and he’s forced to talk about it when they have to share a hotel room?

“Oh hey! Aaron!” you shouted across the precinct realising there were about 7 cops looking at you. You cleared your throat “Agent Hotchner. May I see you in the conference room for a second.”

He looked at you and cocked his eyebrow, he could tell by the look in your eyes you were up to something and as much as he loved it now was not the time. “Is it important Y/N?” you couldn’t stop your cheeky smile forming on your face, it couldn’t be less important if you were honest, but you nodded anyway. Hotch gave in and walked over to you and into the conference room. “What is it Y/N?” he tried to be serious but he couldn’t help but smile a little. You paused briefly wiping the smile off your face, looking out of the window for dramatic affect.

“Your butt looks good today” you looked back over to him and he just shook his head, let out a little giggle and left. You quickly followed him.

Over the course of the case you two were your usual selves, talking about everything and nothing in between bouts of case work, gently touching one another whenever you got the chance, catching the other staring and making fun of them. You and Hotch were best friends, anyone in the world could see how close you were. Which was…great…probably…you had resigned yourself to being best friends aware that being anything more was just completely off the table.

A major storm had hit the night you’d caught your unsub, grounding the jet and leaving the BAU stuck in Dallas with nothing to do. Most of the team had taken the opportunity to get some sleep retiring up to their hotel rooms one by one. You’d decided to stay at the bar for a little while and treat yourself to a glass or two of wine, things had been a little dicey on this case and you felt like you needed it.

As you sipped at your wine and watched the rain splash against the window a warm hand pressed itself against the small of your back. You flinched at the touch and turned to face them, grabbing their wrist as you did so and yanking it away from your body.

“Hey that’s not very polite!” Some smarmy guy in a business suit smirked in your direction as he put his hand up in defence.

“Neither is touching someone without their consent.” You released his hand and shoved it away.

“Look you don’t need to be a bitch, I was just trying to be nice!” He got up in your face, trying to intimidate you “Jeez you’re not even that pretty anyway!”

“Hey back off!” Aaron had emerged from behind him and began bounding over towards the pair of you. You smirked at him as you grabbed the guy harassing you and pushed his face into the surface of the bar, not spilling a drop of your wine.

“If you think I was being a bitch then…you must think I’m a colossal bitch now! Ha!” You picked him up and shoved him away from you, Aaron caught him as he flew towards the door.

“I think you owe my friend an apology.” The guy looked at you once again and shook his head.

“Let him go Aaron, he’s not worth it.” You nodded to him as he let go of the man and walked over to you.

“You ok?” He put his hand on your arm and looked down at you. You smiled back and bought him in for a hug.

“Yeah, much better thank you"

That night you two spent hours talking, moving up to your hotel room at around 3am.

“Look I just think if the toys in Toy story come to life because kids love them then of COURSE food is alive because we’ve all seen kids eat chicken nuggets!” You both laughed as you sat back down from your rant, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him.

“Your brain is both amazing and stupid!” He laughed and leaned towards you, stopping both of your laughter in its tracks. Suddenly it felt like there was a rope wrapped around you both, pulling you together. Like the world moved in slow motion as your bodies moved closer, your eyes locked on his as you pressed your mouth against his. He returned your kiss moving his hand to your hair and holding your face against his. And then as suddenly as your lips met, your lips parted and Aaron moved away from you “Y/N! This is highly unprofessional” you looked at him with stunned eyes, your mouth hanging open in shock.

“What?” You could feel the tears prickling at your eyelids as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Aaron?"

"This should not have happened. This was clearly a moment of weakness on both of our parts.” You stood up and walked towards him, holding you hand out.

“Aaron can we talk ab…”

“No” he pushed your hand away “I won’t have to take any professional actions against you however we are not to talk about this with each other or our colleagues again, is that clear.” You nodded. Silently willing yourself not to cry. “Goodnight Agent Y/L/N.” and with that he left, leaving you in the dark of your hotel room.

You didn’t sleep at all that night. Instead sat tormenting yourself over what had happened, figuring out what signs you misread and at some point you questioned if it ever happened at all.

Morning arrived and you slumped down in the lobby waiting for your team. As you glanced around to check if anyone had arrived before you, you noticed the guy from the bar last night staring at you from reception. You pulled your sunglasses down and tried to ignore his existence.

“Hey, where’s your boyfriend?” The man wandered over a cocky expression plastered on his face “wouldn’t put out for him either?”

"Wow… I would almost have forgiven you for being a drunk asshole but I guess you’re just a regular asshole huh.”

“Listen bitch I know the sheriff. I can do whatever I want right now and you’re heading straight to county!” He tried to get up in your face. Standing up you met his eye level and tried desperately to wipe the smile off of your face.

“I’m FBI jackass, I could break your arm right now and I wouldn’t get so much as a disciplinary.” It was an obvious lie but this douche didn’t need to know that.

“Agent Y/L/N!” Aaron’s voice boomed from behind you, as you turned your head and spotted him and the team in your peripheral you suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you “what are you doing? Do we have to have a talk about your professionalism on cases?"

"Sorry Aaron this is just the guy from the bar last night.” You motioned towards the now even more cocky man next to you.

“Once again Agent Y/L/N it is not professional to sleep with someone every time we are away on a case.” Your mouth dropped open as he spoke, eyes fixated directly on his.

“What did you just say to me?” Anger radiated from your voice. “I did not sleep with this man."

"No she didn’t but she did threaten to break my arm.” You looked at the man stood next to you and without missing a beat he recoiled away from you in fake fear.

“My apologies sir. Y/N you’re suspended. Find your own way back to Virginia and be in my office at 8am Friday.” He spoke as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as if you were just some background character that no-one ever knew the name of and not someone he considered a close friend mere hours earlier. He walked by you, stern face completely unmoved by the shock plastered all over yours. The rest of the team shuffled by offering comforting eyes and the occasional touch on the shoulder, they seemed as shocked and confused as you were.

And then they were all gone, you were stuck in Dallas, alone and heartbroken…at least you were in a bar…silver linings.

***

“Aaron… do you want to talk about what happened back in the hotel?” Rossi cornered Aaron in the plane kitchen. Concern spread across his face.

“What is there to talk about? An agent acted unprofessionally, as they had done many, many times before, and I finally realised I needed to do something about it. I will discuss this further with agent Y/L/N when we meet next week. As for now, I have some paperwork to get started on.” He walked away, leaving Rossi stood at the other end of the plane. Emily and JJ looked over to the older man with questioning looks on their faces which was met, to their dismay, with an equally confused face from David Rossi.

***

“You’re late Y/N” a very stern Hotch mentioned as you knocked at his office door, not bothering to even glance in your direction.

“I’m 15 minutes early Aaron.” You noted the clock on the wall.

“Exactly.” You fought the urge to scoff at his comment “take a seat” you did as he said, sitting yourself in front of him. Usually the time you spent in his office was either splayed out on the couch or perched on his desk, this chair was uncomfortable, no wonder you never sat here. “I’ve taken the difficult decision to place the incident and your behaviour on the case last week as a strike on your record"

"What?” Your eyes and mouth open wide, you couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing. “But Aaron! That goes on my permanent record, it could affect my role in this team and the FBI as a whole. I find it very hard to believe that what happened last week is grounds for that kind of action."

"You threatened a civilian Y/N."

"After I was threatened and sexually harassed! You saw what he was like! I can’t believe what I’m hearing!” You stood up off of your chair and turned your back on Hotch, placing your hands on your head in frustration.

“Please calm down Agent Y/L/N! Don’t make me extend your suspension further.” He stood up and slammed his hand on his desk making you turn around to face him. You stood eyes connected in complete silence breathing in unison. “The mark goes on your record. You may start back with us on Monday. Take the weekend to cool off and maybe think about what a professional wears to the office."

You looked down at your v-neck and skinny jeans, an ensemble you had worn some variation of during your entire stint with the BAU. You let out a small scoff, composed yourself and spoke "fine. See you on Monday Agent Hotchner. Have a nice weekend."

Leaving his office you shut the door and met the gaze of your teammates. JJ was the first to walk over, offering to walk you out. As you stood in the lift with her you decided to let your frustrations out.

"I just don’t get it! It’s like some weird twilight zone where my best friend has been replaced by a nastier moodier version of himself and nobody but me knows!” She laughed at your comments and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

***

“Agent Y/L/N!” Hotch’s voice boomed across the North Dakotan precinct catching the attention of anyone within 15 miles of him. “interrogation room now!” You had become used to being dragged into rooms whenever Hotch saw fit, his eyes burning into you whenever you did anything trying to find a mistake or reason to call you up. And the once gentle touches had become rough pushes go get you to move in or out of somewhere. The last month had been Hell, on top of your one strike Hotch had managed to find a way to give you another, during a week of back to back late nights and stressful days you’d accidentally fallen asleep at a desk and no one had decided to wake you before they rolled out to apprehend an unsub, Reid had gotten injured and sure enough Hotch blamed you entirely ‘had you been there and not sleeping on the job we may have caught our suspect without an agent ending up in the hospital’ for some reason the rest of the team felt the same and your relationship with most of them had been a bit strained recently.

“Hotch, have I done something wrong?” You asked, shutting the door to the interrogation room behind you.

“What is this?” He threw a case file onto the desk, notes and pictures sliding out as it slammed against the table.

“It’s Ryan Knowles, a potential suspect, I saw his name pop up a couple times and had Garcia run him through our system, juvenile crimes, peeping tom and a non existent mother figure. He fit our profile, I asked JJ to put him on the board so that we could…”

“And why would you do that?” His question took you aback, what was that supposed to mean?

“It’s my job? To follow a hunch and see if it pans out.” You furrowed your brow unsure why you were in trouble.

“Maybe not for much longer. I’ve noticed you’re slacking, sleeping on cases, following ridiculous hunches and causing the team setback after setback!” He threw the case file against the wall sending paper everywhere “follow your hunch, and you better hope it pans out or you’re off this team"

"You can’t do that!” You shouted trying to hold onto your composer for just a moment longer. He began to walk out of the room, putting his face close to yours,

“Watch me.” He pulled his face away and walked out of the room leaving you shocked and confused. You began to pick up the papers of your case file trying to put them back into some order as your tears began to blur your vision.

You stood up and wiped away your tears, looking at a picture of your unsub you decided you were going to prove you were right and prove why you deserved that spot on the team, not that you really wanted to be there much more anyway.

***

“Put the gun down Ryan!” Your unsub pointed his gun directly at you, you’d managed to catch him attempting to bury his victim, You had radioed for backup as soon as you saw him and could hear the sirens in the distance “you don’t want to do this, hear those sirens in 30 seconds they’re all around here and if they see you standing there out in the open with a gun it’s not going to take too long for you to be the one in the ground.” You swallowed hard, keeping a level head as you gradually lowered your gun “but if you have me they’re not gonna shoot you, how about you let Amber go and take me instead, look I’m unarmed” you kicked you gun slightly away as you heard the screeching of tyres.

“Come here.” You walked slowly to Ryan he grabbed you and quickly held the barrel of the gun to your head. You watched Amber run off and be caught by JJ, you sighed with relief that they had made it to you in time.

As Aaron saw you his heart leaped to his throat and his stomach hit the floor. He’d thought he’d managed to bury his feelings for you after everything that had happened, but there you were completely vulnerable with a gun to your head and he couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly worried. As Rossi tried to talk Ryan down Hotch kept his eyes focused solely on you, catching your stare right back. You nodded slightly and forced yourself downward allowing Morgan to land two shots directly into Ryan’s chest.

As you pulled yourself free from his arms you ran forward to your team and for some reason Aaron was the first to pull you in for a hug. Your body tensed up and you blinked with confusion but at least you were safe and he wasn’t firing you.

***

“I’m sorry Miss Y/N but there was an incident with your room. A pipe burst and unfortunately we cannot let you stay in that room this evening. We managed to collect all of you belongings before they were damaged but it seems you will have to share with one of your colleagues.” The older woman at the desk was ruining your life, not actually but in many ways she was. Your team had already gone up to their rooms while you spoke with reception. “I can give you a spare key to one of their rooms so you can just go and let yourself in ok?” You nodded and took the key, you didn’t mind sharing a room with most of your team, as long as it wasn’t Aaron.

You knocked on the door and began to let yourself in “Hey it’s Y/N! My room got flooded so the front desk gave me your key! I guess we’re roomies for tonight huh!” You finished opening the door and was met with the face of Aaron Hotchner. You sighed “ah. I will go get a different key.”

“NO!” He cleared his throat “no it’s ok, we can share I don’t mind.” You silent nodded and closed the door behind you, putting you go bag down on the desk you began walking over to the couch to get comfortable “Agent Y/N.” Hotch stated sternly. You stopped abruptly and sighed, you knew friendly Hotch was too good to be true. Turning on your heels you didn’t give him a chance to speak first.

“Look I know I was reckless, but you didn’t really give me much of a choice. If this means I get fired then fine because I saved a life today and that’s enough."

"I’m not going to fire you. In fact I wanted to say something.” He looked sincere, and sad like whatever he was about to say was painful or something “that night in Dallas, when we talked for hours and then we kissed, well for some reason it broke me, I knew I liked you and knew I found you attractive, I just never put it all together until that moment. I realised I loved you and I wanted to be with you, and I freaked out. Everything I’ve done over the last month was because I was so scared that I was going to get hurt or that you were going to get hurt and it would break me, but then seeing you today and realising that you could die it all went out the window, I don’t have time to be scared, I want to be with you and I realise that now. I’m so sorry” He stopped his ramble, looking into your eyes with his big brown puppy dog eyes, pleading forgiveness and willing you to return the sentiment.

“Are you finished?” He looked shocked by your question nodding to respond. “And that’s it is it? You made my life hell because you love me?” He nodded again, quickly glancing to the floor. “What do you want me to say now? That I love you too? That I forgive you? Well I’m sorry but no. I used to, but then you ruined it. You cost my friendships with the team, you cost me my perfect record and my job and you almost cost me my life, because you are an immature, petty self centred prick! I’ve been so stressed and tired I’ve lost 10 pounds for god’s sake! I’m sorry Hotch but your half assed confession isn’t going to fix this.” You sat down on the sofa and put your head in your hands leaving Hotch stood in the middle of the room, eyes drilling a hole into the floor, looking the way you looked after he left you alone in your hotel room that night. Neither of you moved, both unsure as to what should happen next. “I’m…I’m not saying that we can never happen. I just need time to process, and forgive you and learn to love you again.” His eyes had moved up to you again and you noticed the tears that had formed starting to leak out as yours quickly did too. “What… what erm… what side of the bed do you want?” He laughed slightly at you comment and smiled weakly at you a smile which you returned. Maybe in a little while, this wouldn’t be so hard again.

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic

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drangues · 4 years

Text

Impervious

The Armed Detective Agency was in something of a chaotic frenzy.

This, in and of itself, was not anything new- Day in and out, if one listened hard enough, they could hear the infuriated screams of one Kunikida Doppo as he frantically chased after his coworkers in a futile attempt to get them to complete whatever paperwork they were avoiding that day. Hearing the terrified screams of the patients- Or perhaps, the victims- Of one Yosano Akiko’s medical practices also wasn’t too out of the norm, for the area.

What was out of the norm was the genuinely fearful air about the workers of the Agency- Every single one of them was rushed, in some way, and they all bore a frenzied energy that seemed to refuse the idea of sitting still.

And if one looked into the Agency’s office space, they’d find the reason why.

xxx—xxx—xxx

There was not a single member of the Armed Detective Agency that was having a good day, and it wasn’t even in the “we’ll laugh about this later!” way that Dazai Osamu liked to torment his coworkers with. To be fair, the man himself was hardly in the mood to be pulling pranks and making a mockery of everyone- And it was all for one simple reason.

Nakajima Atsushi had gone missing.

He wasn’t sick or calling out of work for some other reason, because Izumi Kyōka had seen him before she left their shared apartment, Kunikida had called to make certain that he wasn’t feeling ill and had forgotten to notify them, and Dazai had even broken into the apartment (without asking Kyōka) after all was said and done, just to double check.

He wasn’t lost in the depths of Yokohama, because Miyazawa Kenji and the Tanizaki siblings, Jun’ichirō and Naomi, had been combing through the city on foot to make sure he hadn’t gotten sucked into any trouble, and Tayama Katai has been looking through the security records in every available place, both legally and illegally, just to cover all their bases.

He wasn’t in the custody of the Port Mafia, which they admittedly only knew because at least three separate people would have sent a message to gloat about having captured the weretiger.

(Also, Dazai had not-so-secretly pulled some of his older strings and broken out a few threats of dismemberment, but that was neither here nor there.)

No one knew where the white-haired male had gone, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that someone outside of the usual suspects had interfered in their lives.

Now if only they knew who the hell this new subject was.

xxx—xxx—xxx

When he opened his eyes, it became clear to Atsushi that something had gone very wrong between Point A and Point B on his way to work.

Admittedly, the day had started off somewhat badly to begin with- Kyōka has dropped the breakfast crêpe he’d made her on her way out the door, so he’d promised to make her a new one while she went on ahead. Then, once he’d finished with it, he’d realized that he was late, and that he was certain to get an earful from Kunikida about it. So he’d stepped up the pace and started running for the Agency, and then-

And then-

And then what?

He… Remembers, somewhat vaguely, someone stopping him as he ran. They wanted something, he thinks. Then… Nothing. The last thing he remembered seeing was-

Ah, he thinks, somewhat dully, I dropped the crêpe.

It wasn’t actually that big of an issue, all things considered- Clearly, he’d been kidnapped- And yet, that’s what stuck out at him. That’s what he remembered.

How stupid.

You couldn’t have remembered something actually useful? Your captor’s face, perhaps? Your surroundings?

Useless, awful beast-

Atsushi breathed in. Breathed out. Not right now. He couldn’t handle hallucinations right now. He needed to think. Whoever took him had to want something, right? Something from the Agency?

But what, and why-

Creeeaaak.

The door opens, slowly and loudly, and for the first time, he realized that he was, in fact in an inclosed space- He just hadn’t thought to use his senses to confirm it. He isn’t wearing a blindfold, but the light is flickering and dull- Certainly dim enough to offset anyone else, if they’d been caught. The air is stale, too, an old kind of scent that makes him think of earth and dirt- Underground, then. Maybe.

How would you know? You can barely even function as a detective on a normal day, much less when you’ve been taken by someone.

Should’ve left you to die in a ditch.

Should’ve let you starve.

Should’ve left you rotting in the basement-

With a shaky sigh, Atsushi manages to ignore the words that have always haunted him, and the figure of a man standing just at the corners of his vision. Instead, he takes in his captor.

They’re taller- Taller than him, anyways- With messy, frantically rumpled brown hair and wild, dark brown eyes. He looks like he just rolled out of bed- Or like he’s been too worked up to take care of himself.

Atsushi catches a whiff of his scent and immediately decides its the latter.

He doesn’t… Register everything the man says- He’s still groggy from being unconscious, and there’s a distractingly sickening pit in his stomach that gets deeper the more this man talks.

Dangerous.

Run.

Stay away.

Run

Run.

Run!

And it’s only as the man tightens his restraints and lets out an unhinged laugh that Atsushi realizes, with a dullness that only comes from experience-

Oh.

There’s a nail above his foot, and a few more set aside.

His captor raises a hammer.

I’ve seen your kind before.

Atsushi doesn’t scream.

xxx—xxx—xxx

It takes them four days, some intense virtual searching from Katai, and the intervention of Edogawa Ranpo (Who had been away on a mission for the Agency for the first three days, and who they hadn’t been able to contact) for the Agency to realize when Atsushi was taken, who took him, and where he might be at the moment.

Most alarmingly, alongside this information, they discover what might be happening to the weretiger while they tried to find him.

Hanmura Ryō was a man with an extensive criminal history, and the connections to make sure he never really had to suffer for it. He was well know for kidnapping and torturing people- Usually, those people are between the ages of seventeen and twenty one, and they mostly had silver or white hair. This torture could apparently range from a single day to a month, and he’d initially killed his victims after becoming bored of them.

Then his connections had proven to be powerful enough to keep him from facing any real consequences, and he took to leaving his victims alive after he was done with them- A last sort of mockery on their inability to do anything to him.

Needless to say, this information only worked the Agency up even further.

After all, Atsushi, as far as they were aware, had never really had any experience with being tortured- Which wasn’t to say that they’d be alright if he did have experience with it, but it made them worried that it would break him irreparably.

(Of course, unknown to them- Or perhaps, ignored by them- Atsushi did, in fact, have experience in that field.

It wasn’t his fault they didn’t believe him.)

Luckily, it only took a few more minutes of digging from Katai (Minutes filled with some very colorful threats from Dazai, and a distinctly murderous feeling from Kyōka) to narrow down the kidnapper’s location- And, with any luck, it will be Atsushi’s location, as well.

It’s Dazai, Yosano, and Kunikida that end up getting in the car to go on their rescue mission.

(Kyōka had wanted to go, but Fukuzawa Yukichi had very firmly put his foot down, regardless of her past experiences, and told her that Atsushi would much rather have the first face he sees upon returning be that of his little sister.

She was now waiting very stubbornly by the door to be exactly that, but he’d take what he could get.)

They just hoped they wouldn’t be too late.

xxx—xxx—xxx

Atsushi doesn’t know how long it’s been, exactly, but he does know that he’s… Surprised? At how little this is all affecting him.

Oh, don’t misunderstand- He’s terrified out of his mind at being in a place that he never asked to be in, that’s so similar to a place he hated (Hates? Hated? Dazai and Jun’ichirō had made things so confusing…). He’s terrified that he can’t bring himself to use his Ability in such a place. He’s terrified that the Agency might not come for him- Because they can’t? Or worse, because they don’t want to.

But- While the nails going up and down his arms and his legs hurt- The torture itself isn’t getting to him. Oh, sure, the hot pokers that his captor had shoved in his gut hurt something awful, and getting his bones broken, only for them to heal, was an… Interesting experience, but.

But this wasn’t anything he hadn’t dealt with before. If anything, it was tame in comparison.

The man hasn’t even tried to sew his mouth shut, like one of the Sister had when he was a child. He isn’t being forced to do labor while injured. There’s blood- His blood- But he isn’t being forced to clean it up. Words on his own worthlessness as a human being aren’t being forced into his head, day in and day out.

Well, they are being forced there, but he isn’t sure if a hallucination counts- It isn’t anything new, after all.

It hurts- Everything the man does hurts. His body aches, and he knows that, without Byakko, he’d be irreparably broken, physically speaking.

But he’s used to this sort of thing. “This sort of thing” is one of his earliest memories.

His captor screams, frustration coating his voice as he kicks Atsushi’s chair down. The pokers twist in their wounds, making him wince, but he still doesn’t make much of a sound at the feeling.

Breath in, breath out.

The man shrieks again, foot coming down on his spine with an audible crack for what must be the fifth time.

Remember- What’s better than being alive?

xxx—xxx—xxx

It doesn’t take all that long for the trio to arrive at their location- A fairly normal house, all things considered, if somewhat rundown and a bit out of date. The key feature is, of course, the basement they’re almost entirely certain is holding Atsushi.

(Everyone hopes that’s where he is, at least. They’re pretty sure that Dazai will actually go on a killing spree if it isn’t- And they don’t think they’d stop him.)

The entire building is silent upon initial observation, though, and none of them are quite sure how to feel about that.

Is he okay?

Is he gagged?

Is he dead is he dead is he-

Yosano enters first, and Dazai would complain if he didn’t know it was to give her quick access to Atsushi if he had a fatal injury. (Also, she was generally a badass, but that’s another story, entirely.) The two men follow behind, all three quiet as they scan the first room for anything potentially alarming.

There isn’t much, really. Just some dull, ratty carpets, thrown over the floor in haste, and cracking wallpaper.

Also, there’s a padlocked door at the far end, and they could’ve sworn there was screaming of some sort.

It doesn’t take much more than that for them to break down the offending door, which was apparently soundproofed somehow, because the screaming, while still indistinct, became much louder without it. In fact, the screaming itself didn’t even stop at the noise of the door falling.

They take the stairs two at a time, with the exception of Dazai, who simply skips walking down entirely to throw himself at the bottom, hitting the floor in a neat roll as he gets back up.

All three of them get weapons out, turning to face the source of the noise.

None of them were quite expecting what they saw.

xxx—xxx—xxx

Atsushi doesn’t know what he did to make his captor so mad, but he’s kind of wishing he hadn’t done it, regardless.

The man will. Not. Stop. Screaming.

For someone with sensitive ears, like Atsushi, it’s hardly a pleasant experience, and he isn’t entirely certain what he’s yelling about in the first place- Wasn’t he the kidnapped one, here?

He shifted again, causing the plethora of nails, pokers, and stakes that his captor and pressed into his body to tug at him uncomfortably- Any bruises created from the beatings he’d been given had long since healed, much to the man’s ire, and he’d eventually chosen to keep going with the only things that left lasting marks.

(That they only left lasting marks because he wouldn’t remove them was ignored, apparently.)

His head fell back against the dirt floor he’d been laying on ever since the man had knocked over the chair that was holding him.

You deserve this.

Weak. Useless. Mindless.

It’s your own fault, couldn’t even hear him coming-

Monster monster monster monster-

He shut his eyes, trying to block out the voices hissing in his ears- But concentrating was a lot harder with the hunger twisting in his gut. His captor hardly felt the need to feed him, after all.

A foot lashed out, driving a trio of nails on his collarbone deeper into his body, and he choked at the sensation.

It still wasn’t a scream, though, and the man snarled, foot reeling back to repeat his actions-

Thu-thud thu-thud thu-thud-

THUMP.

If he’d been using them, Atsushi’s tiger ears would’ve twitched at the noises- As it stood, he simply raised his head, attempting to peer into the front of the room, where his captor typically used as his entrance and exit.

He blinked.

To be fair, he didn’t think the man was expecting the sight behind him, either, if the look on his face as he twisted around was any indication.

Behind him stood Dazai Osamu, Yosano Akiko, and Kunikida Doppo of the Armed Detective Agency.

And they did not look happy.

xxx—xxx—xxx

When they found their missing coworker, they’d expected blood- Lots of blood, to be honest. Broken bones, screaming, the whole nine yards- And they technically got that.

They just. Weren’t expecting the screaming to come from Hanmura.

Oh, Atsushi was clearly in pain, sure- His eyes were glassy, and his breathing was far to rapid for their comfort- But he wasn’t screaming or cowering, as they were afraid he’d be.

By all rights, he seemed almost… Used to this.

Had they still been too late? They’d moved as fast as they could-

Had he broken completely?

Was he just stronger than they thought-

God, they hoped he was stronger than they thought he would be-

It takes them only a moment to regain their bearings, and within seconds, Dazai has shot Hanmura in both kneecaps with pinpoint accuracy, with Kunikida moving in to fully restrain him a moment later. Yosano, meanwhile, had immediately moved to Atsushi’s side, carefully removing him from his restraints with some quickly applied bolt cutters and lock picks.

After that, it doesn’t take long at all for her to begin examining one of her newest coworkers- Senior only to Kyōka, really. With as much care as can be afforded, she begins checking the wounds around every intrusion to his body before removing them and allowing the tiger to do its work.

Better safe than sorry, she thinks. Super healing or no, if infection had set in-

She pushes the thought aside, only really intervening in the healing itself to remove any cauterized areas- The fucker had used heated pokers at some point, then.

How lovely.

(And maybe she would typically be more sadistic, but even she has her limits- And she won’t make things worse for Atsushi after he’d just spent four days being tortured.)

Luckily, it takes only five minutes for her to remove all of the nails and stakes and pokers that had been shoved in the silver-haired male’s body, and soon enough, she’s able to help him to his feet, though he’s a bit unsteady, and far, far too light.

(He probably hadn’t been fed at all, and she sees Dazai stomp a foot down on one of Hanmura’s now-broken kneecaps.

Good.)

Once he’s up, she steps aside and let’s Dazai hold Atsushi, instead- The man has been worried out of his mind, after all, and she can’t say she blames him.

True to expectations, Dazai immediately wraps an arm around Atsushi’s back to steady him again before pressing his face into his neck in a sort of half-hug, and after some rather impressive, nonverbal back-and-forth, he convinces him to at least get on his back so that he doesn’t have to walk too much.

(Healed or no, the man had still be starved. So what if he wanted to take care of him a little bit?)

A mutual look between all three rescuers tells them that they’ll talk about this later- About why Atsushi seemed so unaffected, and about how the hell to make sure that Hanmura stays down- But for now, they have more important things to focus on.

It was time to go home.

xxx—xxx—xxx

Author’s Note: Yes! It is I, Nyanon!!! Anyways, you mentioned wanting a fic of the “Atsushi being tortured” idea I sent you on anon- Hopefully this is good enough!

Also, if you’re wondering why Atsushi didn’t just turn into a tiger and eat Hanmura- It was sort of meant to be a “he’s been in this situation before, and just pliantly doing what they wanted was how he survived” sort of thing? Because Trauma. Hopefully that makes sense!

#fic #dazatsu fic #kinda??#bsd fic #bsd fanfic #nyanon #nyatsushi anon #submission #THIS IS AMAZING #I LOVE IT #FUCK #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #if yall wanna send small snippets here then-feel free to do so #I WOULDNT MIND #just pls dont make it angst with sad ending .#thats all i dont want

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alpaca-writes · 3 years

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Mystics, Chapter 27

When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics by the strange shopkeeper Lyrem Nomadus, everything seems to be going well- in fact, their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as perfect as it seems….

Read Chapters 1-26 and more HERE

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror, @livingforthewhump

CW: Drugs and drug mentions, manhandling, swearing, violence, and gore mention

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: TEENAGE WASTELAND

Arthur remembered well how to find Benji’s house. He had to pick up Arch from the narrow condo a few times in the past. They would always emerge from there a little bleary eyed and tipsy. He never said anything to Charlotte. Not once. To him, it was just a normal part of the teenage experience. He’d try to sober them up and send them home with a good enough excuse that their little bender would be over-looked as an innocent sleepover- without the sleep.

Persephone had used all of her remaining strength to launch him back into the mortal world, and Charlotte would have to remain behind for now- until they were able to open a door to the Labyrinth from the Underworld.

At least he wouldn’t have to worry about his sister. She would be safe with the gods.

At least Persephone dropped him in the middle of the city this time. His first visit plunked him in the middle of abandoned farmland and it took too much time to steal a truck into the city to kill Lyrem. He ended up finding Arch in the back alley instead. It felt like it was only yesterday he was stabbed in the leg while trying to rescue them.

The creaking of a window shutter opening nearby filled the courtyard with a familiar Bob Dylan song and the poor mimic of a kid trying to sing along to it. Ballad of a Thin Man, and it was definitely Benji.

Arthur walked up to the window, feeling like there was nothing that would stop him from getting to Arch and he rapped on the open shutter.

“Benji!”

The drifting smoke and strong skunk smell made Arthur back off from the window again. Benji didn’t hear him.

“And somebody points to you and says, ‘It's his’”

“Benji!!”

“And you say, "What's mine?" and somebody else says, "Well, what is?"”

“BENJI!”

“And you say, "Oh my God! Am I here all alone?!"

At this point, Arthur stuck his head through the window, and watched him in the corner high as a kite with a tall bong sitting on a table in front of him. The boy continued singing and acting out the lyrics with impeccable quality of a stage performer.

“But something is happening and you don't know what it is

Do you… Mr. Jones?”

At the last line, Benji turned toward the window to see Arthur’s scraggly face, impatient and red as a brick with the anger of not being heard. Benji jumped back, eyes wide.

“Benji, finally! I’ve been calling you from outside!”

“Dude,” Benji swallowed, growing pale and looking sickly. “Not again man, I don’t know what drug you forced into me, but I do not want anymore.”

Arthur scrunched his face, “what are you talking about?”

Benji shut off the music from his phone, and approached the window wearily.

“Look man, I know you and Arch are close so I’m not gonna play this game with you. I don’t have any, and I don’t deal opiates. I’m not telling you who does, either. You gotta get clean.”

Arthur hopped up, and popped himself up through the window. Jumping down, he landed in a pile of dirty laundry.

“I’m not here to deal,” he explained, “I need your help with something.”

“I said I don’t wanna be the guinea pig for your shitty mushrooms, dude! Get out!” Benji opened his bedroom door. If he needed to make a break for it from the crazy man, he would.

“I’m not trying to give you drugs!” Arthur reached out, and pulled Benji in by the arm. “Last night at prom you were sent to a different world. I need you to help me get there.”

Benji was plopped down on his old bed, and he didn’t try to move any further. He rubbed his arm where Arthur had held him and massaged the bruises that he had started forming. This man was crazy; he was insane and his timing was WAY off.

“Prom… was like, a week ago, dude,” he said meekly. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about. I got super high that night and I saw some really crazy shit, and I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

Arthur sighed and scratched the top of his head, only then realizing how disgusting his hair had become. He probably didn’t smell too great either.

“Look, kiddo, I’m really sorry that you’ve been dragged into this- but right now, I need you to listen to me.

Arch was taken by that creature that I lit on fire. That wasn’t a bad trip, it really happened. And now I need to get to where Arch is. The only place I can think of that they were sent is the same place that you went that night at prom. That’s the working theory, anyway. I’m not giving up on it.”

Benji interrupted. “But I don’t… I don’t understand… I know that there was a point in time I got really muddy… or I fell into a puddle of oil or crude or something sick like that, but…”

His nails lifted toward his teeth, and he started biting between words. His breaths shortened.

“Nah, nah man. I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Arthur nodded. He couldn’t expect Benji to understand or believe him, so he gave up. Instead, he focused his energies toward creating the portal. Whether Benji had believed him or not, shouldn’t matter. The kid was still sent to that realm whether he chose to remember it or not.

“Dude?”

Arthur’s eyes were closed, and he was holding out his hand to hopefully create the portal as Benji watched on.

“Dude! I told you to get out”-

Nothing was happening yet, but Arthur continued to concentrate the best he could with Benji’s distracting shouts. He grabbed Benji’s arm, hoping that it would be enough.

“DAD HELP! There’s a crazy junkie in my room!”

Shit. Arthur didn’t have any more time. He broke his concentration and wrapped a hand over Benji’s mouth to stop his yelling, but it was too late. Footsteps that were loud and heavy started pounding down the hall from the kitchen.

“Fuck!” he shouted out. He released Benji reluctantly, and his face was splattered with regret. He turned back toward the window. Instead of seeing the trees and the grass and the cars lining the street, he saw black. A void into the next realm that was just large enough for him, and it was shrinking.

“Benji? Everything okay bud?”

Benji froze. As he had turned to show his father the man who had tormented him, he saw the pitch-black void that had erupted in his room and the man standing before it, hesitant to step into it. The wide shouldered man who was Benji’s father pulled his son away and stepped back. Neither of them, completely able to comprehend what was in front of them.

Arthur stood still in front of it, fearing the way forward. Then one hand emerged along with another. Grabbing Arthur by the shoulders, they pulled him in, and he was finally consumed by yet another void.

He fell, crashed into the dark glass that carpeted the expansive land of rolling hills and flatlands. Arthur only hoped he had ended up where he needed to be, and that the hands that pulled him through were at least, friendly ones.

Supporting himself with his arms, he looked up from the ground and saw a familiar set of legs standing in front of him. Then one of them kicked out, landing into his side and he fell again, this time, laying on the ground completely. After wincing through the sudden blow, he blinked, seeing the last of the void turn to nothing and a deep orange sky took its place. He groaned, clutching his ribs.

“That, was for stabbing me,” Lyrem’s face came closer into view as stood over Arthur.

Arthur wasn’t really in the mood to argue with the dead man, but he didn’t seem to care terribly.

“Worth it,” he mustered, and rolled back to where he was before.

“And you can finish that sentence by thanking me for saving you from the Depths of Despair,” Lyrem sniffed. He looked around, mildly paranoid that Paimon wouldn’t be far behind.

“I’ll thank you when I’m good and dead,” Arthur stood, brushing himself off, and pulled some of the glass from his calloused fingers. “For now, I need to find Arch and bring them home.”

“Not so simple a deed-” Lyrem said simply. He turned, heading towards the mouth of an open cave. But Arthur had different ideas, and pulled the old man up close, by the collar of his shirt until they were nearly nose to nose. He growled into his face, but Lyrem was hardly put off by the close contact.

“Don’t fuck around with me, because I am not in the mood!” Arthur studied the man’s face as it was still inscrutably unfazed.

“Listen very carefully, Arthur. Arch trusts Paimon now- quite possibly more than they trust me or you. I’ve been here long enough to see that their bond has strengthened. We need to play this wisely or else Arch will become Paimon’s next plaything. He is too strong for either of us to defeat on our own,” Lyrem spoke calmly, lowering his voice until it was just a little more than a whisper. “We need Apollo.”

Arthur pushed him away and pulled out the jar of holy water from one of his cargo pockets.

“Arch wouldn’t trust a demon more than me,” he said with confidence.

“Ah- Paimon isn’t a demon.” Lyrem countered. He straightened his shirt collar and pointed toward the jar in Arthur’s hand. “He’s a god. And you would be wise to put away the jar of lynx urine before you spill it on yourself.”

Arthur looked down at the jar. It was a tinge yellow. He scoffed, exhausted though he was of talking. He unlatched the top, popping the rubber seal and sniffed. He grimaced, and held it far from his nose.

“A god? And hold on- this is lynx piss?” Arthur questioned. He latched it again. Lyrem didn’t seem to be lying. He seemed to be quite sure of himself, in fact. “Why… Why did you have a jar of lynx piss in your back room?”

Lyrem waved him off.

“I needed it to summon a Goddess”

“Why were you summoning a Goddess with lynx piss?”

“Because my wife had cancer”

Arthur stared at him blankly until Lyrem decided to explain himself in slightly more detail.

“The urine is solidified into a crystal under several moon phases and then engraved with- you know what”-

Lyrem hushed him at this point, wondering if it would be easier to just put him asleep and drag him to Paimon himself. He thought better of that and ushered the man nearer to the mouth of the cave. Arthur placed the bottle inside his pocket again.

“If you want Arch to come out of this alive, then you must follow my lead. Paimon is powerful here and if we want to avoid suspicion, then we must play the parts convincingly. Starting,” he said, poising himself, “with this.”

“What? With wha”-

Arthur received a blow to the side of his head. One strong enough that it forced him to keel over onto his side, and before he had any time to recover, Lyrem’s knee connected with the front of his face, knocking him flat on his back. He wheezed out.

“You… asshole!”

“Nice and bloody just how Paimon likes,” Lyrem winced a bit as he walked around his backside and rounded him. Finding the jeweled knife on his belt, Lyrem took it away from him. “I know you would do anything for Arch- that is the one redeeming quality of yours.”

Next, he pulled up to Arthur’s right side as he was busy nursing his nose. Lyrem licked his lips and then pressed a foot down into his thigh. Loud, agonizing howls filled the air, and Lyrem relished in it. He didn’t let up until his was certain his leg had fallen back into disrepair.

“But the question, I think that is on everyone’s mind, Arthur,” Lyrem picked him up, and dragged him forward. “-is whether or not Arch would do anything for you.”

Lyrem lifted up his eyes to the opening. Seeing the figure of Paimon stepping through the threshold, he grinned wickedly.

“I believe I’ve found a little gift from your uncle, and Arch’s next carving project.”

Paimon tilted his head, hiding his excitement with a smirk of mild amusement and crouched down. In his left hand he presented Arthur’s strained looks with his own bowie knife.

Arthur shook as the knife approached his face, threatening to make the first cut deeply against his cheekbone- but Paimon pulled it away just in time. Arthur let out a relieved, heavy breath and stared down at the obsidian carpet as the sweat dripped off his temples. He heard the gritty voice of Paimon above him.

“I think we’ll have to place a little bet.”

“Oh? What are you thinking?” Lyrem asked, adjusting his collared shirt around the nape of his neck.

“I bet you that Arch can carve out his heart in five minutes or less,” Paimon proposed, “blindfolded.”

Arthur’s head snapped up in alarm, eyes wide and blinking through blood.

Lyrem raised an eyebrow, “and if they fail? If they take longer than five minutes?”

Paimon considered all of the things in the world that Lyrem could want. He wanted the bet to be interesting, after all. Taking a tour of Mount Olympus, giving him a vial of water from the fountain of youth, or bringing him Phillip as a fun little reward would be all great and wonderful ideas but-

“Let Arch go…” Arthur interjected, “If they can’t do what you say in five minutes or less, then let them go- Back to Earth and back to their real life.”

Lyrem hesitated- not something that he often did. His eyes darted to the man and up to Paimon, gauging his reaction. Would Paimon take it?

It wouldn’t be so easy, would it?

Paimon held a finger to his lips in contemplation, then swiftly brought a hoof down on Arthur’s back, forcing him into the jagged slices of volcanic glass. He grunted and seethed into the ground.

“I accept the bet, although it will take me some time to decide what I want when I win; when Arch succeeds well beyond my expectations and rips your heart from your chest,” Paimon smiled. “Oh, you would have been so proud, Arty. I do wish I had taken a picture for you of what they did to young Marcus… For now, I’ll have you locked in a cell until I make up my mind about what I want.”

Paimon lifted his hoof off of Arthur’s back. He let out a sigh of relief in that there was at least some hope for Arch after all.

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gangstalkersexposed · 3 years

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Truth Comes to Light

Since I was a teenager, I was subjected to abuse by men who manipulated me to trust them.

*This is not an “anti-men” spew/blog. There are women involved, too. But the fact is, these men hurt me, manipulated me, gaslit me, groomed me, and then slandered my reputation with no consequences because no one gave a fuck about that kind of thing 10 years ago. I have spoken with justice departments for the past abuse, I was told I could file a report and have it “on hand” if these people continue to bother me/slander me/gangstalk me. I deleted the evidence, because when I tried to make police reports when these incidents first happened, I was blown off, laughed at, and ignored, by people who are suppose to protect teenagers from predatory adults, and trauma in general. I deleted the evidence because i got sick of being reminded of the pain...if I had hindsight and knew these people would continue to torment me, I would’ve kept it. Never delete anything. And to the 14-15 year olds out there thinking they’re special for talking to an older man...he is using you, he will leave you broken, with no care for you. Do not fall for the grooming and manipulation.

I will not be naming names. For the sole purpose of

1. These people will come across this blog, and know its about them.

2. I am not speaking to them, I am speaking to their souls...if there is any left present.

3. I do not want to fuel their fire. They can feel free to get mad about this, and expose themselves. They will not receive anymore of my energy.

4. If something happens to me, this is public information. The proper Justice Departments know the names of these people. I do not need the internet to go after them.

5. I am not out to ruin their lives. All I ask is they own up to what they’ve done/are doing TO THEMSELVES and STOP doing it. They are ruining their own lives just fine, they are miserable which is why they harass me and continue to try and steal my energy and tear my life down. These people have left their friends to die of ODs, they do not want to be exposed, it is their greatest fear.

When I was 15 years old, I met a guy at a local show through friends. He was pretty popular amongst the ladies, but I wasn’t into him like that. I saw him as a big brother, and he even agreed. One day he offered me to hangout, I accepted. When we got to his house, he kissed me and I didn’t really know how to react. Then it turned into making out, which turned into him fingering me. It all happened very quickly. I told him I was uncomfortable, and he knew I am a virgin and I don’t want my first time to be like this. He didn’t believe me. He over-powered me, bent me over, and raped me. He only stopped when he saw blood, and realized what he’d done. This man threatened my life if I went to the police. He was 20. I was 15. Of course I believed him. This man now has a wife and a child. I wish I had gone to the police, and still regret it to this day. I did confront this man before I got off social media. He told me some man I literally never met, told him that he took my virginity. I quickly realized this man I had never met was a scapegoat for his actions. When I called him out on it, he blocked me. I never told anyone about this, besides recently told a trusted friend, and then contacted authorities to see if there was anything that could be done/if evidence could be salvaged. You know who you are. Admit what you did. And stop slandering me. YOU made the choice to do what you did. I told you to STOP, NO, STOP, NO, I AM A VIRGIN, STOP.

Later in the year, I met a senior who went to my school. He was new, and came from another state. I hungout with older people most of the time, so we ended up chatting. I had a really big crush on him. He was 19 years old. We were in the same friend group on some occasions, and ended up clicking and exchanging numbers at one point. He told me he liked me, and wanted to be with me “but he could go to prison”. We did exchange photos during that time. 3 months before I turned 16, we began officially dating, or so I thought. It turns out, this man never told anyone we dated. When I made it public on my myspace page(lmfao) His Ex girlfriend flipped out on both me, and him, and threatened to send him to jail. He then told me we could “date in secret”...he was hooking up with girls his age the whole time. While making me out to look like a crazy, obsessed “little girl”. Well, you slept with me. You admitted to me that you used me. You even made a tumblr post about me how I was like a “dead fish in bed” because I had told all the girls you fucked behind my back what you were doing to me. I took this guy to New York...I never held his age over his head...I never wanted to cause him any pain. Literally, all I had for this man was “love”, really a stupid girl crush, but at the time it was my perception of “love”. It wasn’t until he made the tumblr post, that I threatened to go to the police, and its because I was horrified he’d made our sexual acts public...let alone sexual actions with a minor. This man then guilt tripped me into how his “life would be ruined” if I were to go to the police. Recently, his friends..who I didn’t know at first were his friends...started drama on the internet..they then doxxed my home address and phone number and called me threatening me under the false guise of one of their boyfriends being a police officer, when he is not (thats a felony btw...oof) If you are reading this, please leave me alone. You caused me a lot of trauma when I realized the truth about “us”, you caused me a lot of trauma when you made that tumblr post about me and made me out to look like a whore. I “loved” you, in a stupid teenager way. You knew I was struggling with God, you knew I was struggling with my family members death, and you sunk your claws into me, and to this day refuse to admit to others what you have done to me, hence your friends targeting and harassing me. You, are a sick coward. I don’t even want you to admit anything, at this point. I just want you to fuck off and eventually burn in Hell like you’ve always gloated about doing. Also seems like your literal, self-proclaimed, witch wife is sucking out the remnants of your soul, anyways. I hope this paragraph gives you a panic attack, karmas a bitch.

When I was 16, one of my friends joined a local band. I did date the one member for about 2 weeks, but he lived in a different state and we never actually hungout, so because of this we broke up. I still saw them at local shows, and my friend was still in the band. I assumed we were all friends/acquaintances, whatever. One day around 5-6PM, the one guy texts me and invites me out to a local show, he is covering for the drummer in his friends band. He assured me everyone else would be there, and he could give me a ride home. Once I arrived, he told me their set was over and tossed his bracelet on to the ground, and told me to “pick it up if I wanted to get in for free”. I asked him if that was a joke, and he said no. Things got very awkward, and tense..and they told me they wanted to get going. They then tell me, if I want a ride home, I would have to give them both blowjobs. I thought it was a joke. Until they actually left me there. Two weeks later, the one guy names a song after me, and told everyone it was about me. This song, was not written about me and was written about the lead singers ex girlfriend of the other band. I want to thank the vocalist for owning up to the truth, as he thought it was disgusting, too. The drummer, gave it a malicious name intertwining with mine as retaliation of me rejecting him. The bands involved in this were _______ pending legal consequences* I am also speaking to a lawyer about suing for slander, sexual harassment, endangerment of a minor (the one guy was 18), and emotional/mental abuse. If you guys are reading this, enjoy being extradited to my state for court. Once/If that is settled I will be posting their full names and court documents. If you are reading this, and want to avoid court, admit to what you have done. I will not hold it over your head in a legal manner. I will accept your apology, as long as you make it public like you made my slander and harassment and trauma, I had to relive that night everytime someone mentioned that band title. You two, hurt me that night. You knowingly lured me out to a show, in attempts to get sexual favors from me so I could get a ride home. The friends I met with after you left me for saying No, have also written statements against you both. The choice is yours.

I will stop here for tonight. For the next story is a long, complicated rollercoaster.

To give you a summary:

I met this man in 9th grade, and we were on & off from my sophomore year until late 2016, when I finally left him for becoming physically abusive. It is a long, long story. To this day, he attempts to torment me, and literally gang stalks me through his groupies, who are mostly women (jezebels)

Read my stories. Share them. Learn from them. Don’t do what I did. If you ever come across people like this, cut them off with no explanation. These people will gaslight you, manipulate you, torment you, feed you drugs, and try and drive you to suicide. They will do everything they possibly can to not be exposed once you see who they truly are,so don’t let them know you know, and just quietly walk away.

#abusesurvivor #speakup #abuse

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