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gremlingottoosilly · 10 months

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That Unwanted Animal [COD Fantasy AU] CursedKnight!Ghost x fem!Reader

Ghost was cursed ever since his king helped him get back to life from his grave. A stench of death, strong and inescapable, renders him unable to find a woman who will be willing to bed him. What will happen when he finally finds a perfect mate? CW and Tags: Dub-con, power imbalance, Medieval Fantasy AU, knight!Ghost, servant!Reader, sex work, brothels, dub-con kissing and touching, obsessive Ghost, dark Ghost, basically Ghost finds a girl and forces her to be his, Ghost is a half-dead resurrected knight, soft reader, submissive Reader.

AO3 Word Count: 2209

“I won’t go to him, he smells!”

“Drop the act, princess, not even half of our guests reek of anything more than their drinks and foul meat.”

“You know how he smells, Katherine. You know what he is.” “What he is, is a client. Rich one. Do you wish to moan under the belly of another failing merchant? Or a peasant’s dick is more to your liking?” “I bring this place more than half of its earnings! I won’t bed a man who has barely got out of his grave and should be put back!” Ghost sighs, his head pressed against the wooden wall. For a brothel, this place has remarkably thin walls. For a brothel, girls out here have remarkably potent noses – and acquired tastes for anything that doesn’t taste like a man who was brought back to life with dead souls still clinging onto every inch of his very being.

For a man of his regals – the blessed knight, the cursed knight, the kiss-your-enemies-goodnight, the spill-your-blood-he might, he has a particular choice in the brothel he tried to entertain himself with. Not like any willing woman would bed him without a sum of gold enough to feed a family for months – and not like he stood low enough to force himself on poor servants of his castle, bringing his dignity and family name down with each handmaiden he tried to grope while on meeting with the king.

“Do you think he is really dead?” “Dead man wouldn’t need a cunt to drown himself in. He had to have something working.” “Maybe he likes to watch? Or to hurt.” “Maybe, we can’t afford to turn him down, princess. Drop your act before he is willing to burn us down for refusing him.” “Well, I heard he went through every brothel in town. Not a single soul bedded him!” “I heard he doesn’t even like girls. Has his royal knight by his side all day.” “He came alone.” “He will be coming alone for the rest of his life with a smell like this!” “Dark magic. King should have known to not trust the Empire and their lurkings.” “Having a blessed knight is good, no? We’re not at war.” “Cursed knight is good in your army, not your bed. But if you are so willing…”

He hears women – from the madam of this fine place, a woman of fine manners, exquisite figure, and the way of looking at him that almost convinces that she doesn’t want to press her fingers against her nose, blocking the smell of death that follows him ever since he became…that. He hears girls of not-so-fine manners, with fine bodies and perfect pretty faces, gentle hands that don’t know about the trials of war. He remembers the way they looked at him – the way they always looked at him.

Scary, horrendous, dangerous. A skull mask and dark tendrils of smoke follow his body, the Grim Reaper himself embedded in his dark armor. No matter how many perfumes he uses, no matter how many washes per day he forces himself onto, nothing can hide the stench of death. He thought he’d be fine with it as long as his battle brothers were with him – as long as he was with them.

Then he got lonely.

Finding a lay in the brothel would be a scandal for a man of his status – but Simon Riley is no man. Not anymore, at least.

“I bet he wears a mask because he is hideous.” “Maybe he is just wounded?” “What kind of wound would make him hide his face while not being hideous?” “Maybe, he just doesn’t want to show his face here.” “No use. By the dawn, all women in the capital will know about great lord Riley, refuced at every brothel.” “What if he kills us?” “What if he burns us?” “What if he…” “Let the servant bring him tea. Make her useful.” Before he could react – as if eavesdropping on a bunch of whores was something of a pleasant chore he was dealing with – a door to his room had opened. Girl, in much simpler clothes than the ones that courtesans were wearing. With a tea tray in her shaky hands, grabbing the poor thing like there was no tomorrow. Huh. Perhaps, with a mug like his as her client, there is no tomorrow for a poor girl.

Ghost sits on the bed, large, muscular legs spread, his dick swaying with attention the longer he is looking at your face. He can’t be picky, not in his state as a not-dead not-man, but he has to admit that you’re pretty. Without all the mannerisms of a prostitute, you look like a poor deer stuck in the predator’s den. Your hands are shaking – but he looks at your face, having no shame in drinking up your expression like a vampire – and he didn’t once saw you wince at the smell. Hm. Must be potent tea you’re serving.

— I didn’t ask for the tea.

Rude, as always – he didn’t come here to be ridiculed by poor attempts at pleasing him without a girl under him, getting her pretty legs open for his cock. He didn’t intend to come here and listen to all of the workers laughing at him like he was a monster – yet, he can’t leave now, his wounded ego grows into something ugly.

— Most of our clients prefer to drink this before the…act. It makes them more potent, as they say.

His cock didn’t have any warm body to dump his semen in years. He doesn’t need tea to make him hard – he sees the glimpse of your skin under those simple robes of yours, and he can already feel it stir, standing up for attention.

— You don’t sound too certain. Your client must not drink it then.

— I…I am not a prostitute, sir. Merely a servant.

He knows already – your makeup is too plain, your manners are off, your clothes are simple grey wool with not a dash of color. If you were his – as a prostitute, a wife, a lover – he would bring you something much brighter and skimpier. You’d look good in silks, he thinks.

Not like you’d allow him to bring you home – not willingly, at least.

— So I figured, love. You’re pretty enough to be one, that’s clear.

“You’re pretty enough to be a prostitute” is a compliment that only sounds good in the head of a man who hasn’t talked sweetly to a woman in ages. His whole life, perhaps, exchanging the embrace of a lady with tight hugs of the war.

— You’re flattering me, sir.

— Bloody hell, woman. Not a flattery if that’s the truth.

— If you say so.

You shift under his gaze like a rabbit in front of an apex predator. Ghost doesn’t want to force any woman to sleep with him – but he looks at the sway of your chest, at the softness of your hips, at the way you tug and scratch on the rough fabric of your skirt as you’re too nervous to look at him…

He must contain himself.

— Why you work as a servant?

— I…tried to be a prostitute, sir. Most clients here don’t like it when you’re not…

He slowly rocks his body closer to you, his head almost laying on your shoulder. He saw the way you looked at him as he leaned to you – you’re surprised, scared, but not disgusted. your nose didn’t twitch a single time, and he is sure that no tea would ever make you this blind to the stench of death lingering on your shoulder now.

There must be something wrong with you – and he wants to save you like a rare treasure because of it.

— Most clients here don’t like what, luv?

— I…have damage, sir.

So he figured. Just didn’t exactly know what you have.

— What is it?

— A…after a bad cold, my sense of smell…never returned. Not for the last three years.

— You don’t smell anythin’? Must be bloody hard.

— It is. But…I manage. As much as I can.

He slowly drapes his hand over your shoulder – you wince at the touch. He thinks of the madam of your fine establishment. The woman didn’t seem the type to beat her girls, but you had such a shy, scared expression as he started to touch you, he can’t wait to burn this fucking place to the ground. Maybe spare a few of your friends if you’d ask him nicely. You won’t be working here again, ever – that much he can be sure of.

— Doin’ a good job, love.

— I hope so, sir.

He drags his hand on your face, squeezing the soft skin of your cheek. You’re adorable – servants shouldn’t be so pretty, it makes him feel bad, it makes him sinful. He should try to hit on the girls who actually work here – not the poor soul that as sent here to bring him here, as a little lam sacrificed to a vicious god.

— You don’t smell me, then?

— I don’t smell anything, my lord.

He chuckles, but your pained expression only makes him chuckle more. Poor thing, living in a place like this without a sense of smell – he can’t believe how you could survive without the smell of heavy incense and creams that all of the whores were using. He loves it when a pretty girl is making herself even prettier – makeup, all of those little elixirs they are putting on their faces, the flowery smells that make his rotting existence a bit easier. It never worked on him, on his disintegrating skin and stench that followed him everywhere – but then it dawned on him.

You have such an adorable, shy smile and a small posture, playing with the edges of your clothes like a girl who is extremely embarrassed to be in a room with a man of his position. But women aren’t shy in his presence, not anymore – they are disgusted, horrified, they want to put their noses into little candy boxes and smell roses just to get rid of the smell.

But you, adorable creature, aren’t disgusted. Hell, how he missed a pretty girl being so shy around him.

Ghost kisses you before he can think of anything else. Before he could give you space to escape, to come to your senses and understand what kind of man he is. Broken, wounded, pushed to the cage, and locked with a key dangling from the side – god knows, Simon Riley isn’t a good man, never tried to be. Devil knows, he will drag you to the grave with him.

Your lips are soft, untouched, you smell of cleaning supplies and sweet tea. Your hair smells like roses and dust, your hands are covered in little scabs – probably from the days spent cleaning and doing the hard work. He will make sure you will never have to work again, not with your hands, at least – he will kiss your callouses and nourish the skin into something delicate, fragile, to the smell of home he lost long ago.

Your mouth tastes like heaven, and Ghost isn’t a man who deserves to push this angel further, isn’t a man who deserves to have a pretty girl moaning under him. He makes you cry, he terrifies you, he kisses you relentlessly and can feel the way your skin burns, tears streaming down your face. If he was a better man, he would oblige to your hands, pushing him away, your mouth is trying to cry for help.

Simon Riley isn’t a good man, and he pushes you on your back, firms hands on your back, on your hips, touching, groping, feeling the skin of a somewhat willing woman. You’re scared, but you should know the kind of job girls here are doing – he didn’t pay all of this money for charity projects, after all. As much as he would pay even more gold just to take you away, to push your legs apart in a scenery much nicer than a room in a brothel. You deserve a real bed, a nice dress that he can rip away from you,

All you get is his hands on your body, ripping your simple skirt apart because he can’t wait to get to the soft skin underneath. He looks at you, precious girl, as adorable as you are, and can’t resist kissing you, stealing breath from your skin. When he finally hears you moan, when his hand goes to grab the softness between your legs – moist, prepared, smelling of roses and arousal, of all things sweet and sinful – all of his sense of self-control shatters.

He will take you on the floor of this room – over and over, claim you as his little maiden, his favorite girl, until he is sure his cursed, rotten seed has filled you to the brim. He will take you away, bringing as much money to your madam as he can manage, buying you all for himself – taking you as his prized possession for the new castle he was ordered to as a lord knight.

Ghost will make you his, hells and heaven be damned.

You cry, but he knows you’ll come around. And he can be very, very patient.

#cod #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #ghost x reader #yandere ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost #dark ghost #dark cod #fantasy #yandere male #male yandere

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nsharks · 9 months

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bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part sixteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.2k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

"I can't believe I woke up early for this."

You loosen your muscles, turning to dead weight in Ghost's arms, before using the awkward position to slip away.

"No one said you had to be here," Ghost throws over his shoulder before his gaze fleets back to yours. "Good. Again."

Blue groans as you reposition yourself for the basic defense maneuver. You can see why she'd find this boring— Ghost started you off with a move so basic it was almost insulting when he explained it. But you quickly realized his reasoning. Each time you do it, your pulse tampers down less and less while in his arms. He's had to remind you a few times to "Breathe, Twix"— the order so quietly uttered into the shell of your ear that Blue likely didn't even notice. Perhaps you have grown used to taking orders from him, or maybe having Blue close by is helping, because you've been able to ward off the threat of panic so far.

"Fine, I'm out of here," Blue rolls her eyes the second you've finished the move again. "Let me know when you—" she jabs a finger at Ghost, "—decide to make things more interesting." As she leaps off the log she'd been perched upon, she adds: "Oh, and don't get too close, Ghost. She might bite."

"So I've heard."

Heat rises to your cheeks. And then— you're alone with him. You take a swig of water from the canister Blue lent you to ignore the awkward feeling in your chest. "Again?" You wipe your mouth. "Or have I passed your test?"

"Test?" he repeats, the gravel in his voice rolling over the word as his brow lifts in question.

"Well, I haven't... had a repeat of last time, and it's been an hour. I think I've proved that I'm ready for something a little more..."

"More what?"

More interesting.

"Hand-to-hand, I guess. Something harder."

He rubs his jaw, as if to feign consideration. "Right, then. Let's try another one."

The next one he shows you is still simple, except you fail every other time. Basically, he gets behind you and you have to sidestep to avoid the trap of his arms. Somehow, Ghost's movements are light as a feather even though he's built like a rock.

But then you get better at it. The next two days pass in much the same manner until you start to react a bit faster. He teaches you a few more basic tactics. How to wriggle your wrist out of someone's hold. How to avoid being grabbed from the front by rolling to the ground. All defense. After hours spent with him, he doesn't even have to remind you to breathe anymore. Chopping wood in the evenings helps, too. You go to bed exhausted and wake up ready to practice before Ghost even touches your shoulder.

On the third day, he gets you up even earlier. You cram your wool-covered toes into boots, confine your hair in a hasty bun, and follow him to the clearing that has become your makeshift training ground. It takes you a moment to register that some things are different: his boots have been replaced by sneakers, and his jeans by loose, black gym shorts. The exposed skin is strange, making your eyes widen. If Blue were awake, she'd certainly comment.

His calves mirror the strength of the rest of him, and on the left leg, swirling ink catches your eye, reminiscent of the tattoos you discovered when tending to his wound. Skulls and a dagger; perhaps corny, but fitting for him.

"Have you tried it?" His voice cuts through your thoughts.

"Tried what?"

"The bow."

A white cloud forms around your mouth as you nod. "Needed some getting used to, like you said."

Yesterday you had a hard time shooting a chipmunk you wanted for lunch, so you spent the early afternoon firing arrows at oaks until the new bow started to feel like an extension of your limbs again.

"Let me know if I need to adjust the string."

"Will do," you say, almost mumbling.

When you reach the familiar circle of trees, you bounce once on your toes and crack your knuckles. Ghost retrieves something from his pocket. A roll of gauze. It is tossed at you without warning, and your hands fumble to grab it.

"Wrap up," he commands. "Your hands will thank you for it."

You look up at him, brows raised, but begin covering your palms and knuckles. When you're done, you throw the roll back to him. Ghost stretches his arms above his head and splays his feet into a firm stance, jerking his chin at you in a go-ahead motion. Your brows furrow as you try to understand what the fuck he's doing.

"Go on. Get ready."

"Um. Ready for what?"

"A little hand-to-hand."

Your mouth falls open. "What?"

He shrugs. "That's what you wanted, right? I think you're ready for it."

"That's not what I meant," you almost laugh, shaking your head. "I didn't mean I want to— to fight you. I just meant we don't have to stick to the basics."

"We won't." There is the slightest trace of amusement in his voice, so faint you wonder if it's even there. "You have ten seconds to get ready, Twix."

"I don't even—" you sputter, eyes flying open. If you weren't awake before, you are now. He seems completely serious, his hands in fists and his shoulders squared.

"Five."

"Oh, fuck me," you exhale, balling up your bandaged hands. Did he get you up at this hour so there was no chance of Blue joining? He didn't want her to watch him finally annihilate you? You don't think he would seriously hurt you, not after everything, but that doesn't mean your heart doesn't begin to thump wildly when the seconds are up. Neither of you makes the first move; you are focused on keeping yourself distant, and he is circling you like a predator, flicking his eyes along the length of you.

"What the fuck is that stance? I could just tap you and you'd fall over." His amusement has faded. "Is that how I showed you to stand when chopping wood?"

You shake your head, teeth gritted, and fix it, spreading your boots against the soil.

"Better."

Then, he's lunging. You forget everything about your stance and prance to the side like a skittish deer. There is a moment of relief when you successfully dodge him, only for it to abruptly end when he darts around your back and hooks an arm around your neck. Your heart skips over a beat. Holy shit is he fast.

"Be aware of your surroundings at all times," he chastises against the top of your hair. His hold is not aiming to fully restrain you, so when you claw your nails into his arm, it loosens and you slip away, staggering three strides before facing him with your fists up.

"What's the point of raising your fists if you're not going to hit me?" Ghost circles you again, and you have to shift your feet to keep up with him. "Come on, nurse. Where should you aim?"

"You're too tall." Your chest heaves. "I... I can't reach your face or neck without you blocking."

"Use the height difference to your advantage. Reach places that I can't."

You pause to think about it, studying him.

Ghost almost growls. "Stop hesitating. I could have killed you by now."

A mix of annoyance and determination makes you leap forward, jabbing your knuckles at the part of him where you know his liver would be. He captures you by the elbow before the blow can land, and sends you stumbling to the side, a few wisps of hair cascading over your face.

"Liver. Not bad. I might've let you have it if you moved quicker."

A hiss leaves your lips as you whirl around and punch directly into his core this time. He allows the hit, but your knuckles ram into solid muscle instead of the vulnerable stomach you hoped for, and you recoil with a wave of your hand, cussing under your breath.

"You hurt yourself more than you hurt me."

"Well, should I just kick you in the dick then?" you retort without thinking, flexing your fingers. Luckily, the gauze absorbed most of the damage.

"That's always an option."

His tone is serious, to the point that you almost give it a try, but then he's closing in on you again, sending you back to the defensive. He doesn't hold back. You run in circles and duck frantically, earning a few hits to your ribs. He doesn't use enough force to send you down to the ground, but enough to knock the wind out of you. Rapid breaths fire through your lungs and beads of sweat percolate your hairline. Ghost, on the other hand, appears unaffected.

"Fight back," he says in a mild voice; almost bored.

You nearly throw your arms up. "I would if you'd give me a fucking chance."

"You said not to coddle you."

"I'm aware. That doesn't mean you have to—"

Your spine suddenly meets something hard. A tree. He's backed you into it without you even realizing. When Ghost takes another swipe, you dip your head down and then use his recovery time to grab onto a branch and hoist yourself up.

You're barely perched upon it when a hand grips your ankle and drags you back down, an audible gasp reverberating in your chest as you land flat on your back with Ghost on top. His hand quickly cradles the back of your skull before it can crack on a hard tree root, while his other hand captures both of your wrists.

"You good?" Although he is the one who has you effectively pinned, his tone seems sincere. He scans your face from your forehead to your parted lips.

"Just... peachy."

His brows furrow. "What was your plan once you got up there?"

Labored breathing splinters your voice. "I didn't have much of a plan, really."

He speaks flatly. "I can tell."

"You had me cornered," you point out.

"You should have been—"

"Aware of my surroundings," you finish for him, exhaling deep through your nose. "I know."

Your eyes shift around, from his covered face to where his chest just barely presses into yours. It's all so close. Uncomfortably close. You can feel the steady pace of his heart against your sternum, and make out the faintest flecks of green in his eyes.

An ounce of fear and something else you can't quite discern balls up in your stomach, making you swallow. You've been pinned like this before and nearly had your face eaten. Ghost simply stares at you, as if waiting for you to make a move, but when you tug on your wrists, his grip doesn't relent.

"Could you... could you maybe get off of me?"

He shifts some weight off you, if only by a little. "Relax and think," he murmurs. "What are your options here?" The curve of his lips tightens before he adds, "Besides biting my nose off. I'd like to keep that for now."

With a sigh, your eyes slide up to the awakening sky. Hues of violet and orange stare down at you. "Do I... do I even have any options? You must weigh like a ton." The words are past your lips before you can shut your mouth.

"You always have options."

"Doesn't mean any of them will be effective," you say.

His eyes darken, and the green disappears. "Why do you do that?"

"Um... do what?"

"Doubt yourself. After all that you have survived." He sounds irritated.

"As if you haven't doubted me?" You can't help it; you scoff. "You told her I wouldn't come back that time I went on my own. I mean, I'm still weak, remember? No amount of chopping wood will make me as strong as you or those men who almost killed us."

"It's not about strength," he replies.

"That's easy for you to say," you wiggle your wrists for emphasis. "You have nothing to be afraid of. You were cut out for this shit from the start."

"I have everything to be afraid of." His eyes narrow, but his voice softens. "And so were you."

"Me?" Your voice slightly elevates, and a lick of anger curls within you. "I should be in grad school right now, or maybe I would've quit nursing and gone into something useless and hate my life, but I was never meant to kill anyone, let alone fight them. I was meant to be young and stupid and make mistakes. Now, if I make a fucking mistake, it will cost me my life." Your nostrils flare as you huff, sending a piece of hair flying up into his face, and you writhe beneath him. "Get off of me, Ghost."

But he doesn't.

Beats of silence linger in the small gap between your bodies.

You should feel embarrassed for saying all those things, but instead, you think about what he said:

Don't hesitate.

The ball inside you is a fiery mix of emotions that you usually try your damn hardest to ignore and break and shove away.

But now you let it spread through your body like a sizzling tide, from the tips of your fingers down to your toes and... to your knee. Before you can change your mind, you slam it upward as hard as you can into the apex of his groin.

"Fuck," Ghost mutters, the only sign of any pain aside from the brief moment that he closes his eyes.

His hold loosens only by a little, but it's enough for you to slip out from under him and find your way back to your feet, your chest rising and falling.

He clears his throat after a moment and rises.

"Good." The two of you share a stare-off for a few seconds before he shakes his head, saying again: "Good, Twix. More of that."

You rip your gaze away from him, cheeks hot, and say nothing as you snatch the canister and bring it to your lips, but the water does little to cool you down.

You shiver in the bitterness of twilight, your fingers red and numb, wishing for a pair of gloves. The fireflies are coming out, dots of luminescence darting around you. You swing the axe down again, throat raw as you grunt, and then you add the broken logs to the growing stack. Sudden light footsteps announce the end of your alone time.

"It's me," Blue greets kindly.

You drop the axe, hands feeling stiff, and turn to face her with a breathless smile. "Hey. What are you doing out here?"

"Checking on you. Ghost went hard on you this morning, huh?" she says with a sigh. "I could hear you guys. You were a bit... loud. Made it hard to sleep."

"Not too hard. I'm… I'm good."

If she is unconvinced, she doesn't comment on it. Rather, she hugs you. A warm one. You return the embrace before she pulls away.

"I also came because I wanted to invite you to a bonfire."

"Bonfire?"

"Well, with all your..." her eyes flicker to the pile of logs you've conjured over the past hour. "...special workouts, we have a lot of wood now. I told Ghost to make a big fire outside and we can cook dinner over it. It'll be fun, come on. Ghost is making tea, too."

Soon enough, your sore fingers are tingling, holding a warm, ceramic mug of tea. Ghost chucks another bundle of wood into the fire, spitting out smoke and embers, and sits on a tree stump while Blue takes the folding chair. Your hair is down, tucked behind your ears, and a patchwork quilt Blue grabbed from her room lays across your lap. The mug burns pleasantly against your lips when you take a sip, the herbal taste sliding down your throat. Whatever plants he used to make it work together perfectly. It reminds you of the tea your mom used to make when you were sick.

"Do you like it more well-done or is this okay?" Blue asks, meticulously spinning the skewered squirrel meat over the fire.

"That's good, thank you."

Ghost cooks their dinner, and the three of you eat and sip in a comforting silence. You avoid looking at him, opting for the starry sky above your head, where bold stars beam even brighter than the fireflies. It's quite nice. When you're done, you toss the bones into the fire and listen to them splinter.

Blue breaks the silence. "Would you rather be burned alive or be attacked by a bunch of squirrels with rabies?"

You take another sip of tea. "How many squirrels, exactly?"

She taps her chin. "One hundred."

"I think if it were fifty, I could handle them. One hundred, probably not. I'll choose being burned."

She makes a face. "That is a terrible death."

"Most deaths are terrible."

"Fair enough. Ghost?"

For the first time since this morning, you steal a glance. His elbows rest upon his splayed knees, and the orange flames reflect in his eyes as if they were twin black, mirrors. "I could handle the squirrels."

She snorts a laugh. "Even you can't survive rabies, though."

He shrugs. "Takes some time to kill you."

"Let's play a different game," you interject. "Maybe something a little less... morbid tonight."

"Like what?" Blue chimes.

You shrug indifferently. "What other ones do you know?"

"Not that many. You tell us one, Twix."

"Well, I know one good one. You have to act something out and then we'll guess what it is. But you can't talk."

"Oh, that's easy."

"Try it, then," you nod at her.

She leaps up from the chair, nearly spilling her tea in the process. Without hesitation, she puts on a stoic expression and begins shooting finger guns. Quiet laughter shakes your shoulders.

"Are you, um... Ghost?" you guess, making her throw her arms up.

"How did you guess so quickly?"

"It was a bit obvious."

"Not to me," Ghost murmurs. "Terrible impression, kid."

Across the fire, you glance at him again, and his eyes meet yours, reminding you of the events that took place and the words that you spat. Emotions pulse against your ribs, like a swarm of flickering fireflies, but you fail to catch and examine any of them.

A tug on your arm ends the shared look. Tea splatters around the rim of your mug as Blue ushers you up. "Your turn now."

"Alright, alright."

You decide not to feel humiliated with both pairs of eyes on you. They've both seen much stranger things than you act out a squirrel, which must be a good impression because Ghost guesses it right away.

A sudden crack of lightning in the distance puts an end to the game before Ghost can have a turn, which you suspect he is pleased about. He puts out the fire just before clouds roll in, blocking out the stars, and a drizzle of rain begins. Back inside, you kick off your boots and sink to the sofa as Blue says goodnight. Once she’s in her room, Ghost pauses in the threshold of the hall and speaks over his shoulder.

"Get some sleep. You'll need it for tomorrow, even if it's raining.”

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction #cod #zombie apocolypse au

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mayakern · 3 months

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hi! i love your art, it's such an inspiration! if it's alright to ask, how many layers do you use + how do you sort them? it's something i struggle with to keep from becoming disorganized

thanks! i do not use layers in a normal/organized way 90% of the time so i do not think my methodology will be hugely useful, but here you go

basically i have a sketch layer and if i ink the piece i have an inking layer. whichever i use for my lines is put on multiply.

then i do underpainting on 1 or more layers depending on how complex the piece is and how much color variation/manipulation i want to do. in this case, i used 4 layers for the basic underpainting

and then i merged all the underpainting into a single layer and made various adjusted versions of that layer (using curves, hue+saturation, and color balance) and masked them to only show where i wanted them to

after that i merge everything into one layer and just paint. but that doesn’t mean i only have one layer after this. as i reach certain milestones (ie painting the armor) or approach something i think will be difficult/that i might struggle with, i duplicate my single merged layer as a way to preserve progress states. there are a LOT of things i completely repainted or redrew in this piece and having these progress states was invaluable.

as part of this reworking stage, i may create a new layer on top to re-sketch a part of the piece i wasn’t happy with, which i will then mask out the unnecessary parts of later.

after i’m happy with where my painting is at, i’ll do a similar thing i did to my underpainting: duplicating and making multiple single-layer versions of my art so i can fiddle around adjusting each one and masking them to just affect the areas i want them to. i also usually end up using a couple adjustment layers like overlay.

and that’s it! it’s a pretty disorganized process and is not the sort of file i would turn in for professional work, but i don’t do client work anymore so i can do whatever i want and the only person who has to deal with my files is me lol

#art process #art tutorial #artists on tumblr #art #painting #digital painting #maya draws things #ask #process #tutorial

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cera-writes · 2 months

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can you do a story gambit where reader is a mutant or just has the power to either travel through the multiverse or see into different universes and she’s in a relationship with remy and she sees that gambit and rogue are together in every universe except theirs and reader ignores him because she thinks that they should be together so basically some angst and shes comforted by remy maybe some smut? 🤗💕

A/N: thanks for requesting this! This was such an interesting prompt and I had fun writing it! Pairing: Remy LeBeau x F!Reader Tags: nsfw, angst, comfort/hurt, sweet reassuring smut

In this Universe

You stand in the dimly lit room, your eyes fixed on the swirling portal that connects to countless alternate realities. The air around you crackles with energy, a tangible reminder of the power coursing through your veins—the power to see and traverse the multiverse. Your partner, Remy LeBeau, stands beside you, his hand resting reassuringly on your shoulder. His eyes, though masked by the shadows, betray a concern that mirrors your own inner turmoil.

"Qu'est-ce qui te tracasse, chere?" Remy's voice is soft, tinged with his usual Creole accent that still managed to wrap around your heart like a warm and inviting embrace.

You hesitate, torn between sharing your recent discovery and the fear it might shatter the fragile peace you've built together. "I... I've been seeing things, Remy. In other universes."

His grip tightens slightly, encouraging you to continue. "Go on, tell Remy."

"In every universe I've seen, you and Rogue are... together. Always." The words hang heavy in the air, laden with unspoken implications.

Remy's expression remains calm, but you can sense the undercurrent of tension. "And what does dat mean fo' us here?"

You turn to face him, searching his eyes for any hint of what he might be feeling. "It means... maybe we're not meant to be together. Maybe our story was written for someone else."

A muscle ticks in his jaw, but his voice remains steady when he speaks. "So, you think we should jus' give up because some versions of us didn't make it work?"

The question stings, not because of its sharpness, but because of its accuracy. You sigh, looking back at the portal. "I don't know what to think anymore."

Remy steps closer, tilting your chin up so you meet his gaze. "Listen to Remy, chere. Our love, it's real. It's ours. Not some borrowed fairytale from another world."

You want to believe him, to cling to the warmth of his words, but the images from those other universes keep flashing through your mind—Rogue and Gambit, laughing, fighting, loving. "What if we're just living out someone else's destiny?"

Remy shakes his head, his eyes burning with an intensity that surprises you. "No. Dis, us, it's ours to shape. Ours to fight for."

You feel a tear slip down your cheek, caught off guard by the depth of emotion in his response. "But how can we be sure?"

He brushes the tear away with his thumb, his touch gentle yet firm. "Cause I choose you, every day. And Gambit'll keep choosing you, no matter what those other worlds show."

His words resonate within you, stirring something deep and primal. "Remy..."

Before you can finish, he presses his lips to yours, a fierce declaration of intent that leaves no room for doubt. The kiss is passionate, desperate, as if he's trying to imprint himself upon you, to drown out the visions of other realities with the reality of his love.

When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with desire, his breath coming fast. "Let's make our own story, chere. One dat those other worlds will envy."

You nod, your resolve strengthening with each beat of your heart. "

"Please." You needed the distraction desperately to keep from coming apart at the seams. You needed him to ground you and make you really believe that this was your universe with him and that's all that mattered, otherwise, you don't think you could handle anymore of these visions.

"I'm right here, chere." He squeezed your hand.

Together, you turn back to the portal, hand in hand, ready to confront whatever challenges lie ahead, united in your decision to forge your own path, regardless of the echoes from parallel worlds.

You grip Remy's hand tightly as you step into the swirling portal, the sensation of being pulled apart and reassembled in a different reality washing over you like a tidal wave. The colors blur and merge, creating a kaleidoscope of visions that threaten to overwhelm your senses.

"Focus on me, chere," Remy's voice cuts through the chaos, steady and reassuring. You lock eyes with him, allowing his presence to anchor you as the world around you shifts and morphs.

Suddenly, the disorientation ceases, and you find yourselves standing in a lush, overgrown garden. The air is thick with the scent of blooming flowers, and the soft hum of insects fills the silence. You look around, recognizing this place—it's one of the alternate realities you've seen before, where Gambit and Rogue are deeply in love.

Remy seems to sense your unease. "Show Gambit what troubles you," he murmurs, leading you deeper into the garden.

As you walk, the scenery changes subtly, transforming into a scene from your visions. There, under a weeping willow, stands Gambit and Rogue, their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace. Your hands start to shake as anxiety takes over again. The sight stings, but before you can turn away, Remy pulls you close.

"Look at dem, but see us," he whispers against your ear, his breath warm and comforting. "Feel how our hearts beat as one."

You close your eyes, focusing on the solidity of Remy's body pressed against yours, the steady rhythm of his heart matching your own. When you open your eyes again, the vision of Gambit and Rogue fades, replaced by the vivid reality of Remy's intense gaze.

"I see only you," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

Remy smiles, a flicker of relief softening his features. "Good. Now, lemme show you why Gambit chose you."

He leads you to a secluded clearing, where the grass is soft and inviting. The sunlight filters through the leaves overhead, dappling the ground with golden light. Remy kneels, gently pulling you down with him.

"Here, in dis place dat isn't ours, we'll make it ours," he says, his hands tracing the curve of your waist. His touch sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burns brighter than any multiverse illusion.

You reach up, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. His lips meet yours in a searing kiss that speaks of promises and possession. The world around you melts away, leaving only the two of you, locked in a battle for dominance and surrender.

Remy's hands roam freely, exploring every inch of your body with a reverence that makes you arch into his touch. "You're beautiful," he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with desire.

You gasp as his teeth graze your neck, marking you as his. "Remy," you breathe, your need rising like a tide.

He looks up, his eyes dark with passion. "Say it again, chere. My name," he commands, his voice a low growl.

"Remy," you repeat, more urgently this time, your body aching for more.

With a groan, he presses you back against the grass, his body covering yours. The weight of him feels perfect, grounding you in this stolen moment of reality. It almost doesn't feel real. His kisses trail down your throat, his hands mapping your curves with possessive strokes.

"You're mine," he asserts, punctuating each word with a sharp nip to your skin. "In every universe, you're mine."

The intensity of his declaration sends a thrill through you, fueling your own hunger. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him closer. "Prove it," you challenge, your voice husky with arousal.

Remy grins, a feral spark lighting his eyes. "With pleasure, ma chere."

He shifts, aligning himself with your core, and with one powerful thrust, he shears through your barriers, claiming you completely. You cry out, a mix of pain and ecstasy ripping through you as he fills you, joining your souls in a union that transcends the multiverse.

"Y-yes... yes!" you pant, clawing at his back, desperate to feel every part of him.

Remy moves inside you, his strokes deep and relentless, each thrust a testament to his devotion. "Look at me," he demands, forcing you to meet his gaze. "See only me, darlin'."

You do, your vision blurring with tears of joy as you drown in the crimson and black of his eyes. "Always," you promise, your voice breaking with emotion.

His pace quickens, driving you both towards the precipice. "Together," he gasps, his forehead resting against yours. "Forever."

With a final, powerful surge, he pushes you over the edge, your bodies convulsing in unison as waves of pleasure crash over you. You cling to each other, bodies slick with sweat, hearts pounding in sync.

"Ours," Remy breathes, collapsing beside you, his chest heaving with exertion.

You turn to face him, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. "Ours," you agree, sealing your pact with a tender kiss.

As you lie there, wrapped in each other's arms, the garden around you begins to fade, the portal calling you back to your own reality. But for now, you're content to stay lost in this stolen moment, secure in the knowledge that no matter the multiverse, your love will always find its way home.

#xmen #cera writes #remy lebeau #x men 97 #gambit x reader #remy lebeau x reader #gambit

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artdcnaldson · 3 months

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and when we move on (we dont) and get a new boyfriend and get engaged all within the span of six months and suddenly art finds himself at your engagement party and you look happy and he thinks maybe he imagined his importance to you - maybe he had it wrong and he was the fleeting obsession. how else are you able to move on so quickly? he's miserable but he still plucks up the courage to come congratulate you even if he doesn't mean a word of it. says, "you look beautiful - honestly." just because, well you do.

and its then that your mask slips - you look like art punched you - not those slaps you'd both traded in the past - but like he'd genuinely punched you in the gut. wounded ane pained like he'd just said the most awful thing in the world to you. and your hands tremble when you hand him your champagne glass and mumble "im sorry - excuse me -"

you have to be somewhere alone. suddenly constricted and panting and you find and alcove to lean against and you feel tears burn your eyes and even worse still, a presence at your back - "hey, what -" because of course its him, of course it is. "what's wrong - what did i say -"

you could laugh. you could laugh if a sob wasn't cut off in your throat. you hate him. on your engagement day. the nerve to say you were beautiful. with those genuine eyes and soft expression - like he meant it. like he always thought you were.

he breaks your heart and and you try to move on - you let yourself drown in the next man that shows you attention because arts words follow you everywhere - how you're not the marriage type - well, your fiance wanted you. he wanted you and that had to be enough because if you remained alone and unwanted you think you'd die from the pain of it -

so for him to say something like that now - all of the sudden -

"why do you hate me? i left you alone, didn't i? patricks still your friend. you have everything you wanted - I just want to move on, art. I just want to be wanted - why are you here?"

GODDDDD your mind <3

You know it’s sudden— everyone knows it’s sudden. But you’re the only one who knows why you rushed into it so intensely. Why, after six months with someone, you agreed to marry someone who you hardly even knew.

You knew the basics— Charlie wanted to be a college professor. His mother was filthy fucking rich, old money, and she liked that you came from an affluent background. He enjoyed skiing, and watching tennis, and he did rowing in high school. He was allergic to cats. He liked ordering raw oysters and slurping them down embarrassingly loud at restaurants. He never ordered for you, always paid the bill, never pushed you past a heavy makeout session on the couch.

Because you couldn’t go past that anymore. You couldn’t be easy, couldn’t give it up. You had to be the type of girl someone would marry, you had to be girlfriend material, and wife material, and mother material.

Charlie wanted to get married, wanted a big family, and you checked those boxes for him. You’d never have to want for anything, he’d pamper you and keep you spoiled like you were used to. He was strawberry blonde like Art, but his smile was more refined and practiced, and you wish it wasn’t. When he proposed you said yes, and cried tears that were supposed to be happy, but how could you know for sure?

Art shows up to the engagement party as Patrick’s plus one, and you feel dizzy. But you have to be normal— you can’t give anything away. You just… try to avoid him. When he starts gravitating your way, you find an excuse to talk to someone else, or make your way into the kitchen for a fresh drink. Anything to stay away, because you can’t fucking see him. You can’t do that right now, or ever.

But of course he finds a way— he’s too polite or maybe he’s just too cruel to leave the party without offering a congratulations. You’re cornered like prey, grip so tight on the stem of your champagne flute that you’re worried it’ll snap.

And he doesn’t say congratulations. He just looks at you with a genuine, completely earnest smile and says, “You look really beautiful. He’s really lucky.”

You feel your heart seize in your chest, like someone’s grabbed it and squeezed viciously. The corners of your mouth twitch downwards, but you fight it and bring a polite, practiced smile to your lips. “Could you excuse me for a second?”

He looks confused as you put your glass in his hand, as you close his fingers around it so he doesn’t drop the expensive crystalware. As soon as you’re sure he has it, you’re weaving through the many guests to find solitude. Most of them are Charlie’s friends, few are your acquaintances— people that would just as soon pray on your downfall as they would offer a sweet congratulations.

You slip into the hallway feeling suffocated, drawing quick breaths through your nose until you tuck yourself away in a nicely tucked away alcove and take a slow, steadying breath.

But Art lingers at the edge of your vision, and you want to just cry and cry as he gets closer, as he puts a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, what…” his brow furrows, he searches your face for some sort of clue, something to help him understand. “What’s wrong? What did I say?”

The noise you let out is strangled, almost animal. You look at him and see that he means it, he doesn’t fucking know, he doesn’t understand. Maybe he just can’t.

“I can’t believe you’re—“ your voice cracks and you look away from him. You can’t stand to see that kicked puppy expression, the earnest concern. You can’t fucking look at it. “And after everything?”

Charlie is a good man. Charlie makes you happy, or he can one day, with time and distance. And he sees you as someone he wants to spend his life with. Isn’t that enough? Why is Art trying to spoil it for you when the alternative is proving him right? That would kill you. You’d rather just die.

“I was just…” he trails off, turns your face toward him with two fingers against your chin. The softest he’s ever touched you, and it feels so foreign and wrong that it shatters something inside that you thought you’d fully repaired. “I thought you’d want to know. That I still think about you, that I want you to be happy.”

Tears spill down your cheek, inky and black from your mascara. “You’re so fucking mean, Art.” Your voice is weak as you look at him. He drops his hand back to your side, but stays close, so close you’re reminded of how intoxicating his presence can be. “Why are you doing this to me? Huh? I did what you asked and I left you alone. And I didn’t tell Patrick, because I didn’t want to hurt you. Why isn’t that enough? Why are you trying to spoil this for me?”

Confusion and hurt flashes across his features. Is that what you thought he wanted? For you to really leave him alone? He didn’t want that, it nearly fucking killed him. He spent the end of senior year tanking in tournaments, he hardly slept.

Patrick had told you about Art floundering, and it made you sick. You’d actually laid in bed crying about it, wracked with guilt. You thought it was all because of you, because you’d distracted him and ruined him.

It felt like he was there only to remind you that you were poison. That you would do the same to the sweet boy just through a set of double doors as you had done to him. But you wouldn’t. You’d never do that again.

“Charlie wants me. I’ve been his girlfriend for only a few months and he already wants to marry me,” your wavers pathetically as you think back to what Art had said back home. The prospect that he could be right was fucking terrifying, but you’d left that girl behind. “He could be the only one who wants me like this. So why are you trying to show up to my engagement party and look at me like you— like—“

You can’t say it, but he knows. He looks at you and he knows. You wince as he sinks to his knees in front of you, tears filling your eyes. Because his hands slide up your calves, settle on the back of your thighs.

He kisses your knee, softly, reverently, looks up at you with soft, desperate eyes. You sigh softly as his lips trail up, skimming along your soft thighs. You lean back, pressing against the wall, feeling yourself melt for him.

“Art,” you gasp weakly. “You can’t. We— we can’t.” You know you’re speaking the truth, but your words and your actions aren’t aligned. Your fingers card into his hair, and your entire body lights up when you finally touch him again.

It aches in your chest— longing and hurt and love and hatred. You never felt as much as you do with him. Charlie doesn’t light up that part of you the way Art does. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it needs to be hidden away, cut off like a rotting limb.

His lips press to the spot just beneath your hem, and he peers up at you. “Let me.”

Not a question. A plea. Let him.

Let him what? Love you? Touch you? Let him eat you out in the shadows of a hotel hallway? Let him back in? Let him have you? Let him be yours to worship again?

“Okay,” your voice is barely above a whisper. “Okay.” You repeat, just to make sure you’re certain. Of what, you don’t know.

His head slips beneath the skirt of your dress, and you moan softly at the press of his lips over your panties. Soft, sweet kisses over the fabric that make you open up for him. You feel need dripping from your center, longing.

You haven’t been touched since him— not that he’d ever actually tried. But having him touch you, kiss you… it feels like ice melting.

He tugs your panties to the side, mouths at your cunt like he’s kissing it. Like he’s kissing you. You moan softly, let your head knock against the wall.

“Art—“ you practically sob. His tongue parts you, laps at you from your dripping entrance to your clit. He moans and nuzzles closer, lets his nose rub against your clit as he presses his tongue inside of you. He squeezes at your thighs, dimples the plush flesh there.

You’re so sensitive— it’s a combination of months of barely even touching yourself, of missing him, of craving him. You’re dripping onto his tongue, moaning softly. You can’t manage more than soft gasps of his name, pleas for more— Art Art Art Art Art.

He draws your orgasm out easily, like it belongs to him. Laps at your release, works you through it until your knees are shaking. He pulls back, mouth glistening with your release.

He stays on his knees, presses another soft kiss to your thighs, and another, over and over again. Soft, reverent, tender. He looks up at you so earnestly, so desperately, that you feel a sob stick in your throat.

“I need to get back,” you say suddenly, when the ache in your chest is too much to bear. “Charlie’s probably wondering… you know— I’ve been gone too long.”

“Charlie?” Art asks, his voice weak, pathetic. He’s still looking up at you from his knees, and he has to scramble up when you start walking towards the women’s bathroom to tidy your makeup. “Why are you doing this?“

He could be asking anything. You answer what you think he needs to hear, what h ended a to know. “He’s going to be a good husband, Art. He’s always sweet, and he’s never… he doesn’t just see me like— like what you see.” You take a steadying breath. “What you said to me back home was true, I know that now. But I can’t just be alone. It’ll kill me.”

You pause, let your lip twitch into a sad smile. “Just please leave me alone, Art.”

You slip into the bathroom, he hears you click the door locked so you can’t follow. Not like last time. When he returns to the party, he drinks three more glasses of champagne. He leaves before Charlie gives a toast to you, to your impending marriage. He can’t fucking stomach it.

#Patrick’s sister au #ohhhhhhh it’s serious

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moonsaver · 7 months

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Moonsaver… may I ask for any hc’s, scenarios, thoughts, or opinions on a rivalry between Sunday and Aventurine for reader’s affections…

Ohh... tension... let me see what I can do!

Regardless of whoever had their eyes set on you first, it's undeniable that neither of them are backing out just because they now know they have competition.

Sunday's always masking a polite, tight smile whenever Aventurine is around with you. Makes an effort to sneak in jabs, and sometimes doesn't even hide them. He may even pull you aside and subtly ask (or directly, considering how much frustration would build up in him), if you really want to appear with someone like Aventurine. Oh, yes, he's aware. Yes, that gambler with the generous mark on his neck from the Amber lord. The.. signoian who can't seem to keep his sleazy hands off of you. Yes,he's aware. Oh, you think he's a sweetheart? Well, Sunday believes he can be so much more sweeter than that. Follow along, now. You have much better things to be doing than.. going around with that peacock.

Aventurine is getting a kick out of this, mainly because he doesn't believe he'll not have you. So he treats it like some toddler trying to steal candy from him, a lazy smirk on his lips, poorly hidden remarks about touchy subjects like the.. real dreamscape that his family has worked oh so hard on. Seems he's ruffled a few feathers, hm? How delightful. Another gamble and another round to win. Easy. A lazy hand drapes itself across your shoulder, and a know-it-all smile is plastered on his face as he informs Sunday he has you booked for the entire day. You swear you can see a vein pop out of Sunday's forehead as Aventurine emphasizes it's a usual occurrence between you two, and how delighted he is that you've chosen solely him time and again for.. collaborations.

After a few more chance encounters with the other as you hang out with one, the frustration between them starts to rise. Sunday insists on taking you to the most beautiful sceneries in the Dreamscape, gifting you all sorts of luxuries and helping you to the most beautiful hotel rooms Penacony has to offer, even gifting you expensive and sought-after items that he commissions personally from high-ranking representatives from other worlds, that are eager to get on his good side. He insists on helping you with putting of the gifts on like jewelry, compliments you well, and guides your hands to his soft wings, telling you all about the newest champagne bottle he's just been waiting to try out with you, his hand now ungloved, gently tracing circles in the inside of your wrist as he listens to you with half-lidded eyes, pressing gentle kisses into the middle of your palm as he lists all the reasons why he's just better. He doesn't feel the need to insult Aventurine anymore, he just needs you to see that he's better.

Aventurine, on the other hand, is almost desperate. His smug smile is still on, of course, and doesn't let his mask slip for a second, especially around that chicken boy. He buys you all sorts of unique things, mainly matching trinkets like sunglasses, keychains, bracelets, and if he's feeling bold, rings. Takes you to casinos with him, betting on extremely risky terms, and winning flawlessly. To him, this is basically like showing off just how much more happy and fun it would be to have him around. Ugh, Sunday's too much of a stickler, isn't he? Isn't it so much more fun with him? Sunday can't make you laugh the way he does. Takes you out on many, many adventures, too, making your heart rush for the nth time, laughing at the end before dropping you off with care, making sure there's no bruises or scratches on you, and kissing your hand, trying to squeeze his way into your hotel room to try and elongate his stay with you.

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mango-bango-bby · 1 year

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yandere! platonic miguel w a reader who isn't treated too well by their parents in their dimension and tries to be at HQ a lot to escape please?

Ty for ur time!

♡ Escape ♡

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, platonic yandere, dad!Miguel, teen/tween!reader, mentions of abuse and neglect, isolation, basically kidnapping

Summary: Your family is mistreating you and Miguel notices (Platonic!Yan!Miguel O’Hara x GN!teen/tween!reader)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

♡ You loved being a spider-person. Although it wasn’t the powers, or the love from the public for your super-hero persona, or even really saving people that you loved about it. You liked being able to hide. You liked swinging your way up to the top of a building and staying there for hours, away from home until you absolutely had to home.

♡ So when you were introduced to the spider-society, of heroes just like you, of course you wanted to be there. You stayed there for hours, even late in the night. Even doing mundane things, just at HQ instead of home.

♡ Miguel of course noticed. Yes, you were an “annoying kid” as he told himself. But you also helped him, you were strong and helped him track down anomalies. He didn’t want to admit it, but he had grown fond of you. You were just a silly kid, he didn’t outwardly say it but he felt like he was responsible for you. Perhaps it was the father in him, but he felt the need to care for you, keep you safe.

♡ He did notice that you spent a lot of time at HQ, but more specifically in his office. You would just say hello to him and sit on the floor. He was a bit annoyed at first but you weren’t interrupting so it didn’t bother him to much. He did notice that you would just… sit there. You wouldn’t do anything spider-man related, you just exsisted. You would eat in there, watch things on your phone, do your homework, watch him do stuff on the monitors. You did everything in his office, maybe because you felt safe with him.

♡ Miguel noticed, but foolishly didn’t think much of it. He actually liked you, so it didn’t bother him too much. Maybe it was the father in him, or maybe that you clearly were trying to help him. But he felt protective over you, you were just a kid after all.

♡ What he definitely noticed and was concerned about is when one day, you showed up wearing your hero mask. You kept your spider-person mask on. But not in battle, just hanging out in his office. You were just watching him do stuff on the monitors while wearing your hero mask. Of course, you were hiding a bruise but no one knew.

♡ Although you eventually couldn’t take it anymore, all of your emotions erupting out at once. So you went to the only person you trusted, the only person who made you feel safe. Which was Miguel. You walked into HQ crying, keeping you mask on to try and conceal your tears. And you just hugged him and he rocked you side to side as if you were a baby.

♡ After you tell him, he knows exactly what he has to do. How could he ever let you go back to a family like that!? So you stay with him for that night. But he convinces you to stay with him longer, your family isn’t safe for you to be around. Perhaps he may need to pay a visit to your parents, they were going to be your canon event anyways so he might speed that up.

♡ You’re only a child. Nothing is exactly safe for you in your universe. Not your family, and especially not being a hero! So he begins to isolate you, convincing you to stay home. But it’s better than your parents so you gladly accept being isolated and kept away from the rest of the world. But at least you’re getting loved, being cared for and doted on by your real papa.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

(A/N: You all are loving platonic yandere lately because it’s like all that’s in my inbox 😭😭 Not that I’m real complaining though 🫶 I’ve been working on what Halloween requests I have lately 💗)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

#soft yandere #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel x reader #yandere!miguel o’hara #platonic yandere miguel o’hara #platonic yandere miguel o’hara x reader

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essycogany · 1 year

Text

Rare But Not So Rare Sonic Moments. Character Analysis.

Crying

A weird topic I’m more then happy to discuss.

Mandate: “Sonic’s not allowed to get overly emotional.”

I’m starting to think the mandates do break in a few instances. This one specifically is something I’m quite interested in because this is probably one of the rarest emotions Sonic displays. Getting sad/emotional.

Hopefully this essay will be a positive outlook on the mandate.

(Despite being a discussion about negative emotions.)

Examples Of Sonic Getting Emotional

I might not include everything, but the examples I have knowledge of will be stated. If you have anymore examples, I’d love to see them.

SATAM: Sonic cried when he and the Freedomfighters had to leave his Uncle Chuck in Robotnik’s lab.

Archie: The times Sonic cried/teared up was when the weight of a situation got to him, when something tragic occurred and all hope was lost, or when he was filled with joy after those instances ended. Those moments like others, didn’t go too far. (For the most part)

Pretty sure he never out right sobbed.

Underground: I think Sonic only cried when he was a little kid.

Correct me if I’m wrong.

X: In episode 52 Sonic allowed his tears to shed with his head turned away from us. He and Chris ran one last time before Sonic left through a portal to go home forever. It obviously crushed him even if we didn’t see his face.

Boom: Sonic cried/teared up in two episodes of the show. First when Tails was reminiscing about the Tornado and noticed Sonic wiping his eyes. Sonic replied, “What?” Then he, Knuckles, and Tails all cried when they thought the baby they took care of was gone. Also, in Archie when Stick’s rock friend broke or “Died,” everyone in team Boom morned it. Sonic included.

IDW: Sonic shed tears in the Scrapnick Island Issue. Even if it was “Mecha Sonic’s” tears I’ll count it anyways because it’s a good loophole and it came out of Sonic’s eyes.

Movie 1: It’s implied he indeed cried during the baseball scene. The sources being a deleted scene and story-board of the film.

Prime: This doesn’t really count, but Sonic teared up in the first episode when he was held captive by the Chaos Council and had light blasted in his eyes, when he was in darkness. Then Sonic actually cried in episode 7 when he ate a seadog. Either because he was home-sick or starving.

(In the last episode of season two it’s implied he might cry in the next episode. Especially with the shot of him looking on the verge of tears and then covered his eyes in the background of the last shot, but we’ll see.)

By the way. You can see the instant improvement from episode 1 to 7 of the tears animation. Just thought I’d say that.

My Overall Thoughts

Hold on because this is going to be a long ride.

First thing I’d like to discuss is the mandate itself.

I personally don’t believe it means, “Sonic shouldn’t cry.”

(Which has been stated a bunch)

If that were the case, I don’t think this majority of moments (specifically the recent ones) would’ve happened. I think the mandate meant Sonic couldn’t and or shouldn’t go too far with his emotions. I don’t think the mandate existing makes any since, but I won’t get into that.

My point is, Sonic can cry, just not in an overly dramatized way unless it’s done for comedic purposes.

(I say that because of Sonic Boom and the 7th episode of Prime examples. Which are obviously not meant to be taken seriously)

My opinions on Sonic crying.

It’s not necessarily needed, but I don’t mind if it’s done well. I do believe Sonic shouldn’t go too far unless the situation does.

One Issue in Archie when Sonic’s entire life was basically ruined, is a good example. If you’re going to have such calamities happen to him, especially since he has zero ego or mask to hold onto, I think it’s a fair enough scenario for him to react as drastic as his misfortune.

But I believe if he were to cry in something like the Metal Virus. (Just for an example) it could be like how Espio teared up after Vector’s sacrifice.

Crazy idea. Let’s talk about Shadow for a minute.

Shadow is one of the most stoic characters in the entire franchise. He barely smiles, gets excited, or displays any overly positive emotions. While Sonic rarely cries, gets angry, or shows any harsh negative emotions. Shadow and Sonic are opposites because of that.

Sonic’s overall a positive and outgoing guy who wants to keep moving forward. Whenever he has the time to worry, he runs. Faces his problems head on. Sonic only let’s a small amount of his true emotions out when helping someone else. In general Sonic’s a pretty optimistic character.

Shadow on the other hand is a reserved and serious guy. Who wants what’s best for the world too, but in a more calculated and planned out manner. But for some reason, in Sonic Adventure 2 after Amy encouraged Shadow to save the world, (Which reminded him of Maria’s real wish) He sheds a tear.

I repeat. Shadow is the most stoic character in the entire franchise. Who rarely shows his emotions. And yet he cries.

Why can’t Sonic? To be fair, Sonic usually doesn’t have time to think, let alone worry about how he feels. But if Shadow himself can have a short moment of releasing his emotional baggage, why can’t the blue blur?

Is Sonic even as happy as he let’s on?

I’d say he’s genuinely happy half of the time. Then the other half Sonic’s internalizing everything negative in him. Everyone knows Sonic’s overall upbeat, but we’ve seen plenty of times (In the Metal Virus specifically) when he’s thinking, or enduring the chaos around him, he doubts himself. Sonic has these insecurities and emotions he barely let’s anyone see.

Besides Issue #24

Even in Sonic Prime while Sonic shows the most guilt, sincerity, anger, fear, and sadness in the show. He sometimes still puts on a front and acts like everything’s fine.

Sonic Unleashed I’m pretty sure was the first and only time we’ve seen him mope for a minute. All because Amy didn’t know who he was. So, he does have some level of insecurities lingering every once in a while.

Can Sonic crying even work?

How I interpret him crying is when he’s alone. Some people theorize in certain instances like SA2 and Unleashed with Shadow and Chip’s sacrifices, he cried a little. I’m fascinated by this idea. I believe it’s the most in character way to let him cry. Maybe even something like X when his face isn’t shown, but you know how he’s feeling.

Even if we do see Sonic’s face, him crying or tearing up could be shown without being over the top. Normalize it in a way that doesn’t fly off the handle. His expression could have a hint of frustration, anger, or exhaustion. Crying is normal and I don’t see Sonic crying as out of character because it’s been done plenty of times.

It’d be nice if it happened in order to make Sonic feel more believable and sympathetic. As long as the dude’s not on the floor whaling, I’m sure it can work.

Final Thoughts

There are other ways to show Sonic’s emotions. Again, crying doesn’t have to happen, but it does help the writing feel less unnecessarily limited of what kind of emotions can be displayed on this character.

Though there are benefits too. Like finding fun loopholes or small animated details like in IDW and Prime. Sonic not crying so much makes the times he does (or may do in the future) feel earned and impactful. The examples before prove it can be done without taking away what makes Sonic who he is. It just needs to be subtle, quiet, and quick. (Or humorous) Depends on what you think.

At the end of it all, Sonic’s a tough hedgehog. Him shedding a few tears won’t ever change that.

Stay Creative! 💜

539 notes · View notes

n3kk1tty · 4 months

Text

This Fanfic is 18 and up only. It contains mature themes not suited for younger readers.

Sinclair Daughter x Thomas Hewitt

~~~~Sweet Heat~~~~~

Word Count: 7,560

Your father's loved you so dearly. They loved you to a level of extreme that was only amplified after the ambrose accident that led you to this new life. Now that you had a partner this love was a difficult thing to navigate around with your secret desires and Hobbies. To say your father's wanted you to stay pure till the last bell chimes on your wedding night was an understatement. Bo was always glaring down Tommy or telling you to split from each other if he caught you kissing Tommy or hugging too long. While Lester damn near kept you busy to keep you from having any alone time to get into trouble and Vincent tore your bedroom door down when you had shown Tommy your bedroom one day.

You were a grown woman and this habit pissed you off as a teen but now as an adult more capable than your parents at times all it did was make you annoyed. While the boys could have porn mags, flirt with victims, drink and do whatever you had to be miss Mother Teresa. You remember how Bo used to and still does stop you from helping with kills even though you're effective at it. You snap the neck of your designated meat rabbit placing its body in the pile next to you as you fume in your shed. I mean even the Hewitts at this rate we're joining in your father's over bearing nature. Luda Mae always tells Tommy to behave and to wait for your wedding night while Hoyt was a pervert who teased you constantly making you madder than hell. Your perfect mask was falling off your face day by day as your urges grew.

You start butchering your pile utilizing every last piece of your little friends as you could trying to calm yourself. You loved Thomas Hewitt more than anything in the world and you had been dating for six months now. What you could not stand was the purity culture swarming you everyday at home. How could you keep yourself off of that sweet muscular man. He was so easy to rile up to but everyone kept getting in your goddamn way. You hid porn mags and such in Tommy's room to give him ideas and a basic sex ED, you hid condoms everywhere in case something happened. You even went so far as to corner Tommy alone as much as you could but it never worked. Either your father's or the Hewitts got in the way of your needs and you couldn't take it anymore.

That night you had to get away to your hiding place. You had a burning need in yourself and if you didn't have your urges satisfied soon you were gonna strip your boyfriend bare in the Texas open dirt roads and jump his fucking bones there. That or you were going to tie your father's upside down by there toes. Sliding open your window you make work to climb out onto the roof carefully before sliding down the support beams of the house before running off into the dark. You couldn't use your flashlight or make much noise till you made it to where you stashed your dirt bike. It was something you picked up with extra money you made at the farmers market. You knew your dad's would kill you if they found out you had one or what you liked to do in your free time so what was the point in showing them.

You couldn't show Tommy neither even though you loved him mostly because the boy treated you like you were glass but nothing was faster through the county fields then your dirt bike and oh boy was it fun to ride. Your father's may have wanted you to be mother Mary incarnate but really what girl raised by murderers isn't gonna be wild. Back in Louisiana you lived a whole double life. Sneaking out, switching out of dresses made from your Dad Vincent into rock t-shirts and short shorts. Hell sometimes just to beat the heat running around in your shorts and a bikini top. You had a dirt bike back home you stole from a victim and it was so fun to ride when you moved to Texas you just had to get one to ride the dirt trails.

You couldn't let your dad's catching you like this though. If Bo knew you got a tattoo behind his back he'd tan your hide into next week I mean you've been hiding it since you were a teen but he still would. You smile as you ride away to your hiding spot remembering your teenage years fondly as you jump dirt hills hollering in joy. Sneaking off on weekends when victims stopped by to go hangout with your friends a town over. Drinking, smoking weed, listening to rock music and the occasional hook up while horror movies played in the background. You were a real switch up and I mean you still were hiding your wild side from everyone in hopes to keep up with the sweet southern girl aesthetic so you could stay with Tommy. You pull up to the run down house parking your bike before looking over the little river and old farm house in the moonlight. You hoped when you and Tommy got married you two could take over this little home.

You had been working on this house you found for your future with him but you knew you couldn't tell anyone. Especially not with all the shit you were hiding that you either stole from victims or bought with your own cash. The little room with a window AC, TV, and all your precious contraband. Slipping on your band shirt you look over your porn movies trying to see what one you should pop in tonight. Hell you probably just gonna pop in a horror movie instead and just sit back with rock music blaring you were so pissed off. Pulling out your stash of weed from the recent victim Ludae Mae had butchered which had just happened to disappear. You smile, flicking your lighter to your blunt as you feel your worries float away.

Maybe Tommy would still love you even knowing you weren't the perfect girl everyone thought you were. You knew your dads would kill you though. Mostly for the smoking, drinking, and tattoo because they didn't want their little girl ruined. Bo hated the idea of you having sex and you knew it as he refused to give you the sex ED talk yelling at you constantly no boys and to stay pure. Poor Vincent had to hand you sexual education books and repeatedly told you not till marriage. Lester told the twins when he caught a boy flirting with you when he went to pick you up from school. Had to have a big fight about letting you stay in highschool after that one. You let out a puff watching the screen on your bean bag chair as you thought. You always presented yourself as the perfect daughter / future wife. Cooking, cleaning, being polite and helpful.

You even praised God and dressed the way you knew your dad's would be approve. Guess you had plans originally to go out in the big world on your own like a real rockstar and now here you were a boyfriend and pretending to be someone you weren't. You grab a throwing knife next to you, throwing them at the poster on the wall. Everyone else got to go killing doing what they wanted but you were stuck in the kitchen with Ludae Mae. You loved the woman but how would she react to how you were right now. Slumped down in a chair smoking away as you tossed knives with terrifying accuracy while heavy metal blasted in the background. You just didn't want to hurt Tommy. Didn't want him to stop loving you but you couldn't bare this lie anymore.

You hadn't even realized you passed out on the bed by accident till the afternoon sun finally woke you up. All those early mornings to pack Lester's lunch and cook him breakfast caught up to you. What would you do? Tommy usually stopped by in the morning to see you and you were nowhere to be found by anyone. You couldn't show up in last night's dress, you'd be found out as you never wore the same dress two days in a row. You panicked rushing out the room like the devil was on your heels. Throwing on your climbing boots before forgetting you had contraband on you. It would take a hell of a day to explain but maybe you could sneak back in before getting caught. Hell maybe your dad's just thought you were sick or already left. Fuck! It wasn't farmers market day and your truck was still there.

You sped on your dirt bike over the rough Texas terrain hoping you'd be able to explain yourself somehow. Didn't take long to get back but sneaking in was sure gonna be tricky. You hid your beloved bike in its usual spot before army crawling through the long grass. Infiltration was gonna be tough especially if you had everyone searching for you. Being spotted in your outfit now and realizing you still had a hunting knife and blunt on you, it felt like you were fucking Rambo sneaking on to your own property. You made it to the shed not having to fight any snakes in the way. You could hear your father Bo on the porch cussing up a storm to where you could be sending Thomas to find you.

Damnit the Hewitts excuse was compromised and so was the sneaking back into your room. Bo didn't like busting into your room but he would if he thought he needed to. You manage to shift a panel and squeeze into your shed without anyone noticing you entering into the small wooden building. You begin stripping down to your underwear rummaging through the little building for your emergency clothes. You didn't even notice the door opening or closing as a tall silent figure stood in shock at the sight. Thomas stood absolutely still looking at the sight in front of him. He had been in a panic all morning searching for you with Bo and Vincent as they couldn't find you in your room.

You hadn't come down and made breakfast so they thought you were sick as you always wrote notes if you were leaving to town. When Vincent looked though the front window your truck was still there. Maybe you had gone to the Hewitts by foot with Tommy, you had been doing that recently even if they didn't like it. Nope, Tommy showed up with flowers for you like every morning but no you in site. You weren't spotted or heard of from for hours and as a last ditch effort Tommy went up to check the shed you processed and raised your rabbits and chickens in. What did he see when he opened the door. His beloved girlfriend standing in nothing but her undergarments searching through boxes frustrated mumbling with strange outfit next to her.

The boy didn't know what to do but silently stood there breathing as he took in every curve of you. Your soft skin glowing as excitement replaced worry in his body each time you bent over a plump ass practically being shoved in his face. Thomas couldn't stop himself as his curious lustful eyes bathed over your form, taking special notice of the artwork on the side of your ribcage. Tommy didn't know you had a tattoo but something about it aroused him. You never even mentioned it then again he never saw you this undressed. He lumbered over to you gently grabbing your sides to help you reach the top shelf as he pressed his body against yours. This kind gesture was met with a yelp and almost a knife in his face from his beloved.

“ Jesus Christ Tommy I almost took your eye out. You have to knock first before surprising a girl. “ Your heart raced in your chest as you hopped back on the bench trying to push your hunting knife away not realizing how exposed you are. Thomas of course signed to you his complaints. “ We couldn't find you. Where have you been? Why are you so bare? “ Your face warms as a slight embarrassment overwhelms you before a devilish idea crosses your mind. You didn't want to lie to Tommy anymore and if you wanted to take it to the next level you could right now but first was to try covering your ass before your dads found out. “ Well I could tell you the truth but it may ruin my surprise for you. “ You trace your fingers along Tommy's chest as you hook your legs around his waist pulling him in. You could immediately feel his length growing against you straining in his pants as you pulled his face in dangerously close.

Oh you were playing with fire but this was the exact moment you were waiting for. “ Truth? Surprise?” Thomas sloppily signed as you kissed at his face rubbing your hands along his chest making it hard for him to think or question what he's discovered apon. “ Do you love me Thomas Hewitt? “ The giant man shook his head pushing his body further against you on the desk trying to gain more friction. “ Will you love me no matter what my secrets maybe?” Your hands somewhat shake as you lace your hands in his hair whispering into his ear. The man makes an agreeing noise back grabbing your body in close, whining at you to push things further. You desperately want to but you can hear Bo shouting outside getting louder.

You pull Tommy in quick whispering into his ear, exciting him. “ Tell them I was hunting that fox that keeps getting in the coup and I got some blood on my clothes if they question you. Then later me and you can continue this my love. Can you go fetch me new clothes now Tommy? “ You place a big kiss to his face, mumbling you love him before shooing him out the shed before popping your head out to scream at your father. “ Will you stop screaming dad your gonna wake the dead! “ Bo and Vincent run towards the shed as Tommy runs off to fetch you a new outfit. You keep just your head out and refuse to open the door. “ And where have you been young lady! You've been missing since before the sun's been up. “ Bo trys pushing on the door but you fuss at him. “ Unless you wanna see your grown daughter bare as the day I was born you better not open this door. I was out chasing damn foxes in the coups again. “

The pair stop getting flustered before questioning you. “ And why would you not make breakfast and why are you naked in there? You and Thomas better have not been fooling around before marriage. I'm not above putting holes in him. “ Bo practically growls as you stand your ground. “ We were worried. “ Vincent signs. “ I chased that thing pretty far out. I was gonna make breakfast but saw something in the coup again. Then while chasing it I got blood and dirt all over my dress. By the time I came home I fell asleep at my bench and didn't realize I forgot to put my spares back in the shed. “ Vincent seems worried at the falling asleep portion of the story but Bo is standing his ground at the fact he just saw Thomas run outta the shed like his ass was on fire.

“ And what about that boy running out of this shed like the devil was on his tail. He didn't see you naked did he? You two weren't fooling around were you. “ You whistle to yourself as Bo gets angry before you push on the door again stopping him from entering. “ Not like I wanted to get seen in the nude before my wedding night. Someone was screaming at him to find me and we'll he busted in while I was trying to find my spares so for your information dad my dear boyfriend did see me in my bra and panties but I don't think gods gonna smite us for an accident. “ Bo is seeing red as his face heats up as Vincent as well he is getting flustered and angry.

Before the two run off to skewer poor Tommy your lovely boyfriend shows up flustered as can be trying to pass a sundress to you. The two fathers glare him down, yanking it from him before they hand it to you as you shimmy into it before opening the door confidently. You smack Bo and Vincent in their sides as you walk off into the house. “ Would you two stop trying to murder my boyfriend? There's only one way Luda Mae is getting grandchildren and it ain't gonna be no stork. I've cleaned enough of your porn mags up to know you two aren't saints dads. “ The two look away embarrassed to be so confidently called out in their perverted nature by their precious daughter.

“ We can't help, we want to keep you as our little girl forever. “ Vincent signs following you into the kitchen as you prepare lunch. “ I'm 25 dad. I'm a healthy woman with working reproductive systems. Y'all may not wanna hear it but when a man and a woman love eachother very mu-” Vincent throws his hands up covering your mouth as you continue on your rant while Bo plugs his ears and Thomas looks away in embarrassment. “ You know what, me and Tommy are going on a much needed date alone tonight and I'm not hearing protest from no one. I can't marry him if I never get alone time with him and I deserve personal space without my father's being in it. “ Bo gets up to demand to be able to spy on you to but you wave a kitchen knife in his face.

“ I said I'm going on my date! I am your daughter, I got your temper and you know it. Now unless you wanna be cooking your own meals and cleaning for a month.” Bo freezes in his place, he knew damn well you would do it. He and his brothers have been pampered since their little girl took up cooking and even doing the daily chores without complaint. It could be worse because Bo remembers when you were a teenager and you two got into a nasty fight and he was still eating stuff in the fridge you cooked for Lester and Vincent after saying you weren't cooking for him. You had set a decoy out for him and put laxatives in the pie you made and he spent the whole day praying to the porcelain throne. Bo stiffens up before huffing out a fine and taking his plate of food from you. “ You didn't put any laxatives in this to prove a point. “

Bo says as he stands in the door of the kitchen thinking of a way to spy on you. “ Don't give me any reason to. “ The man stiffens before sauntering off to go scheme while Vincent nervously eats his plate with Thomas and you at the table. After you finish cleaning the dishes from lunch and getting dinner ready for the oven you pull Thomas in close knowing damn well Vincent and Bo weren't gonna let you off the hook that easily. “ Tommy honey I need you to go outside to the shed and get my things, take them to the truck and get inside. I'll be out shortly. “ Thomas signs to you where Vincent couldn't possibly see. ‘ What will you do? ‘ You kiss the man on the face before sending him off on his task just answering him back with a smile.

You knew Bo called Hoyt earlier to talk about your date and that even if you tried to get privacy they would still follow you. There was only one place in Travis county where neither family could interfere easily and you knew it. May be hard to get Tommy and you out there at this rate but if you played it smart you could buy you some time. You were able to snag Bo’s keys while cleaning and I mean kicking his keys under the couch wasn't so hard since you usually kept them up on the key rack since your father's except for Lester couldn't be bothered to keep track. Speaking of which you called Lester earlier to see when he'd be home so you had a small window to get the hell out of Dodge. As you were doing your finishing touches Bo stopped you as you stood by the towel closet.

“ Did you really chase an animal out the coup again this morning? I went out to check and all your creatures look fine to me. ‘cept some digging at the bottom “ You freeze knowing that this could be the moment you get caught with your scheming and double life but you think for a moment before answering your beloved father. “ I'd have no other reason to be running out in the crack of dawn in the dark unless you're saying I'm chasing shadows. Maybe if we got a guard dog like I wanted I wouldn't be passing out in the shed exhausted from chasing pests. “ Bo sighs, patting your head before straightening out his back. “ We got Jonesy, she's a guard dog. “ You laugh at your father's mentioning of Lester's beloved pooch. “ Dad, pretty sure Jonesey counts more as a sausage link then a livestock dog. “

The rough man lets out a genuine chuckle as he shakes his head in agreement. “ Yeah probably should tell Vincent and Lester to stop feeding her table scraps. “ You give a raised eyebrow as he sighs. “ We all should stop giving her table scraps. “ You smile as you laugh with your father before trying to sneak away. “ Hey. Don't go making me grandfather just yet. I was barely ready to be your father.” You smile to Bo before telling him you weren't and that you were going to finish a chore before heading out. Your plan was in motion as you ran off the porch practically jumping through the trucks window to start it before your fathers could follow or protest. Speeding out the drive way as you catch Vincent running to the porch to spot your truck hauling ass off to who knows where.

The twins knew you were going on a date and they figured it would be at the house but now that your car was hauling away in your truck the pair got immediately upset. That Hewitt boy alone with their daughter without the families around only spelt something mischievous going on for the boys. Immediately Bo was yelling for Vincent's to get the keys only to find they weren't on the key rack. None of the pair's keys were Vincent pieces together exactly what their sneaky daughter had been doing earlier when she went to clean up before leaving. Bo runs to his room to grab his gun. He was pissed but what did he find when he opened his gun case. No fucking gun that was sure. Your sneaky ass had hid all the guns in the house and the keys. “ That little shit swindled all our shit from under our noses. I'm fucking calling Hoyt to stop em. “

You laughed loudly as you headed down the dirt road towards your destination. “ Tommy I know this may be hard to believe but I haven't always been the beacon of innocence y'all may think I am and if we're gonna take our relationship further I think at least you get to see the real me. “ The man tilts his head. ‘ I love you. Just you. ‘ You smile to him as you make note of the beat up cop car chasing behind you. “ Hey Tommy Hun you don't happen to like rock music do you? “ Thomas shakes his head in confusion. ‘ Haven't listened before. Mama doesn't like. ‘ This causes you to chuckle. “ Well there's two secrets of mine you can know. Hold on darlin I gotta get Hoyt off our tail. “ Tommy panics at this as his anxiety creeps in with the rock music now blaring on the stereo.

You look for an opening in the fencing along the road before you spot one and take off into the dried out landscape around you. The house you hung out at the road was overgrown anyway so taking a little short cut won't hurt. Thomas grabs onto the door handle for dear life as the car starts rattling on the rough terrain rock music blaring in the background as you outrun Hoyts dinky cop car before it inevitably gets stuck on the rough terrain. “ Well that should buy us the night. Wonder how long it will take them to find their car keys under the couch..” Thomas looks at you bewildered, mumbling out noises in protest but you look at him smiling and he can't bring himself to continue. It doesn't take you long to finally make it to your hideout.

Taking measures to hide the truck in the old garage just in case they find their keys early or Lester gets back. ‘ We're in trouble. ‘ Tommy signs as you open up his side of the truck for him as he frowns at you. “ Probably but sometimes you have to stir up trouble to get what you want. “ You try to saunter off but your masked boyfriend picks you up, trapping you. ‘ go back now. ‘ You frown at this statement from him there was no way you were going home now. You didn't care how much trouble you were in. You had been good for far too long doing what everyone said it was time for you to be selfish. “ I'm not going back Tommy. I came here to get alone time with you. “ The man freezes contemplating what he should do before you start rubbing on his shoulders like earlier in the shed.

Soft doe like eyes pleading with him to stay as he tries to remain firm on his stance of going back but the minute your warm hand touches his cheek fiddling with his hair it was all over. He let's out a sigh as he gives in to your demands and you explode with glee peppering him with kisses and telling him how much you loved him. Thomas couldn't say no to his future wife. He wasn't used to being so openly loved and cared for and you were never afraid to tell him how you felt or to give him such affection. You were his angel on earth and if his angel was leading him into trouble he'd gladly follow. The Texas heat was still very much in the air as the evening sun still hung in the sky. You showed Tommy around the property you had been working on excitedly telling him about the coup and the rooms how you were excited for your future with him.

The boy felt like he was walking on air as he could imagine a life with you while you ran around the building showing him everything. Thomas may not have looked it but he to was getting fed up with the family's needs to butt in. Those strange magazines in his room gave him many wicked ideas and it was getting harder for him to keep his hands off you every time you peppered kisses to his face or hands lingered a little to long on his chest. You finally got out to the little lake running down the porch steps to show him excitedly. The man smiled as he looked at you showing him it before you got the most wicked idea. Before the man could figure out what you were doing you were throwing your shoes off and tossing your sundress to the side. Running down the old boat dock telling Tommy to catch you before you jumped in just in your underwear and bra.

The man stood there whining and fussing at the edge of the dock as he tried to grab you but you just splashed him in retaliation. “ Come on honey the water is nice and cold. If you can't swim the water over here isn't too deep. “ The man takes another try to grab you but you duck under the water swimming away before floating on your back to tease him with your scantily clad form. It takes awhile of coaxing and praise but Thomas finally strips down to his boxers and wades his way in the water so you can take off his mask for him. He's very hesitant about you doing that for him but it wasn't the first time you've taken his mask off. Usually you do it to wipe his face and get him embarrassed but right now all you wanted to do was sit in the cold water with your lover telling him how handsome he was.

Mask off and nothing but the thinnest layer of clothes separating you two as Tommy refuses to let go of your wet form. Gentle kisses and praise flow from your mouth as you just can't stop grabbing at him, whining and noises of content come from your strong lover as it's just you two loving on each other under the Texas sky in the cold body of water. You swear you haven't had a moment alone with each other since the day he asked you to be his girlfriend but now that you finally did get alone time you both would gladly get into trouble again to have it. You tried to teach Tommy how to swim a bit but all you could accomplish tonight was teaching him how to float on his back, you couldn't stop laughing at his red face each time he'd float up with his body exposed trying to cover himself.

By the time the sun started to set you were sneezing up a storm from your little adventure in the water. Thomas sprinted out of the water dragging you along with him in his arms, completely forgetting your clothes behind in the grass as your sneezes concerned him. You were small compared to him. He was scared you were sick from the cold water so he was trying to strip you of your wet clothes and warm you up with a towel in the abandoned house. By the time his worry washed away and the realization hit him what he was doing you were under Tommy in just a towel with his body hovering over you in his boxers. He trys to shoot backwards but you hook your legs and arms around him pulling him in so he can't escape. “ I never told you to stop Tommy. I'm okay with it. Why don't we continue if you want to darlin. “ His breathe hitches before he's nervously crawling further on top of you so scared of what to do next but definitely wanting to continue forward as he presses his face into yours eyes begging for you.

You gently laugh grabbing his face into a gentle kiss which Tommy greedily pushes further into excitement and eagerness growing. You were always so gentle and loving with him your kisses were like honey and he was desperately trying to to taste more. Your hands lace into his damp hair trying to push back to catch a breath but he just kept pushing forward eagerly. You have to completely turn your head to the side to get away to catch your breath leaving a excited Tommy leaning against you whining his member straining in his soaked boxers. “ Honey it's not fair if I'm the only one naked here. “ He instantly gets the message and anxiously goes to pull off his soaked boxers sitting on the bed his hard member exposed to the air precum already dribbling at his red tip.

You gently place your hands on his chest getting your lover to lie back for you as your hand finds its way to his cock. Tommy jumps a bit when he feels your hand wrap around his girth anxiety and excitement mixing. His cock wasn't the lengthiest you've ever seen but my god was it as thick as the rest of him and ready to destroy you if you weren't careful so even if you were excited to get to the main course a warm up was in store. “ Why don't we get warmed up sweetheart. I know you're excited for your first time but if I'm not prepped you may hurt me. “ You flip around to straddle yourself above Tommy's mouth his glazed over eyes staring at your soaking cunt as you feel his breathe eagerly fan over your folds. “ Why don't you use your tongue Tommy and get me ready for you while I take care of you Hun. “

Thomas paused for a minute taking in the sight of your sex before his hands found either side of your ass gripping you tight as he dived right in like a man starved. You yelp at the base of his cock as Tommy leaned himself against the wall dragging you with him as he crudely propped you up so he had better access. His cock throbbed against the side of your cheek as your face was buried in his wild mess of hair around his member by the sudden movement. Your nose filled with his musky and electricity tingled your core as Tommy went at you like a beast, you couldn't help letting out a moan. Propping yourself up the best you could, you kissed along his length mapping his cock with your lips before dragging your tongue from the base to his tip.

As soon as your tongue lapped across his tip Tommy was growling into your cunt hands gripping harder pushing his tongue deeper into exploring your core. Getting your mouth completely around his member was a challenge as you had to fight against Tommy wildly bucking his hips up into your mouth while trying to adjust your throat to his thickness, almost gagging in the process. Eventually you find a rhythm of keeping yourself breathing and not gagging as Thomas practically face fucked you while devouring your cunt until you came on his face repeatedly. You couldn't fight back as you saw stars as Tommy relentlessly licked and sucked at your folds hunting for every last drop of your fluids he could get before he shot thick ropes of cum into your throat like you were nothing but a doll.

Pulling away for air you sucked in as much as you could get pulling yourself from a pussy drunk Tommy. “ Aw you released it all down my throat. Guess we will have to wait for round two Hun. “ Thomas grabs your legs pulling you roughly under him again placing wet sloppy kisses to your face as a low growl comes from his throat and you watch his cock harden again quickly. A laugh escapes your lips as you place a kiss to your lover instantly softening the man's demeanor from intimidating man to whining mess. “ Don't worry Tommy we can go round two. So eager.” You put a long kiss on his cheek. “ So cute. “ You pull out a pack of condoms from under the bed thankful you were smart enough to stash a bunch anywhere you thought sexual activities may occur.

‘ what's that?’ Tommy signs laying beside you playing with your tits as you figure out which condom size would be most comfortable for your lover before deciding a large may just be able to handle his girth. “ It's called a condom Tommy prevents babies before marriage. “ You let Tommy look at the box and open one of them looking at it fiddling with it before his body jolts when you slide one on him. Giving him a few strokes and pouring a hefty amount of lube on you straddle above Tommy preparing to slide yourself on his cock praying that you can walk after this. You sink down slowly feeling yourself stretch around his length as Tommy whines into your shoulder wanting to jerk upwards into you but you growl into his ear.

“ Be a good boy and be patient. I only reward obedient boys. “ Hips colliding with Tommy's you feel his cock fill you completely stretching you to the most you've ever had you kiss at your lovers face telling him how good he feels and how good he is for you. You start bouncing on his cock slowly amping up the speed but you feel Tommys cock thumping inside you as he grunts holding your thighs down as he cums. Thank goodness you had him service you before getting to the main event or you'd be a heavily disappointed woman. You let out a sigh preparing to pull yourself off for the night and just work with your boyfriend later about cumming to quickly but Thomas grabs your hips forcing you down.

He grunts into your ear bucking up into your core making you let out a moan. Tommy takes this as a sign of encouragement and starts ruthlessly bouncing you on his cock lifting your hips up and slamming you back down like you weighed nothing as he grunted and groaned into your shoulder loosing himself in the pleasure. All you could do was moan and desperately cling into his shoulders as he stretches you with out mercy moans and grunts filling the room as erotic squelching noises can be heard from your sexes meeting. Your pussy slickening his cock with your juices as you eventually come undo on his cock before Thomas is pushing you down on the mattress with his full weight pressing his cock in deep into your core. He falls over onto you sweaty bodies clinging together after a such a carnal release.

You look outside to see the sky is dark and the stars are up. “ If we don't get home soon we will really be in trouble.” You try prying Tommy off of you but he grunts in response refusing to let you go. ‘ No ‘ You sigh as you grab his hand, closing it into a fist and forcing him to sign yes which he grunts to. “ Yes. Tommy I know neither of us wanna go to bed alone tonight but my dad's gonna dish a punishment out on me either way and Luda Mae may kill me. “ He lifts his head, staring at you for a second before signing no again and rolling over with you tucked into his chest. A content hum came from him as he placed a soft kiss on your head rubbing your shoulders with his rough calloused hands. You stay like this for a while deciding that if you were to get in trouble that Tommy would keep you safe no matter what if need be.

Eventually you convince the man that it was best to head back just to not cause panic for the old woman who always rooted for your relationship as you had called her earlier in the day to vent your problems of never getting alone time with Tommy. You were able to convince her that it would be good for your young relationship to be able to have alone time together she was the one who sent Hoyt out in his car to go get stuck. With reluctance and a lot of kisses and promises of future perverted endeavors you headed back to home. Though you can't really walk that well with a bow legged stance and limp. Still walking on cloud nine you decide it will be best to have Tommy finally figure out how to drive.

“ That will be our story, we will stick with it. Now that we're on the main road it will be easier.” You kick back in the passenger seat motioning for Thomas to start the car which he anxiously starts up. It took a while to get back but when you finally pulled into the driveway with Thomas anxiously stepping out the car Luda Mae sat on the porch with Vincent as Hoyt and Bo sat besides the pair playing cards. “ There's our eloping love birds. Did you two assholes know it's sundown?” Bo said standing firm as Thomas helped you out the car motioning to the starry sky Hoyt following behind him. “ It took us till Lester got home to get my cop car out the damn ditch what were y'all thinking. “ The pair come to circle around you but Thomas blocks you with his body being extra protective. “ We went house hunting, did some swimming, and I taught Tommy how to drive so that's what took us the most time. “

“ House hunting? “ Luda Mae says standing up from the porch swing were her and Vincent were crocheting. “ Well yes. We wanted to find a house between the two families for when we start our own family. Extra big so all the grandbabies. Sadly the one house was off the roads so we had to off road to get to it. Didn't know we were being followed. “ The men turn to each other trying to make a come back while Luda Mae eyes them down. “ Well you hid our keys and guns young lady don't think you can talk yourself out of that one. “ You raised your eyebrow to the man smiling at your father as you were good at lieing your way outta things. “ Hide your keys? You mean I didn't pick your keys up didn't have time to I was prepping dinner for you. And your gun I did hide because you threatened to put a hole in Tommy for accidentally seeing me in my underwear earlier. I was scared you'd actually do it. “

Luda Mae smacks both the mens arms as Bo glares at you not knowing if you were lying or not. “ If you didn't hide them then were are they! And where is my gun? “ You walk past your father smiling up to him knowing he couldn't do much punishing with no proof. “ Guns in the towel closet up stairs and your keys last saw them on the table so Jonesey may have knocked them under the couch with her tail again. “ Bo turns around following you inside as you motion towards the couch. Vincent signing to you while Bo and Hoyt have Tommy help them move the couch. ‘ I’m upset with you still. I know you hid the keys and planned the car getting stuck. Why?’ You turn to your father both of your hands signing fast as you to have a conversation between you. You and Vincent were always close while you and Bo butt heads Vincent could keep secrets Lester couldn't.

“I’m an adult. I feel like you three are smothering me sometimes. Like if I try spreading my wings or change I'll hurt you. “ Vincent shakes his head signing back as the three men fish the things out from under the couch. ‘ I know about the rock music and biking. What is it I don't know. This isn't fair we share secrets. You are an adult but you're still my child.’ You huff, shaking your head as you pull Vincent around so Bo can't see what you're saying. “ I love you, but I love Thomas too. I love him so much I want to be with him. I can't be his wife if I can't be alone with him. I deserve to be happy and be loved to.“ Vincent sighs, shaking his head in agreement reluctantly before pulling you in for a hug patting your back. He didn't like having to give his little girl away but Thomas wasn't a bad man to give you to. Bo lifts his keys up laughing with Hoyt as they turn to you and Vincent.

“ Tch. Fine I guess we can finally give her what we sent Lester to get earlier. “ Bo comes over patting your head as you surprise him, pulling him into the hug to which he let's out a grunt. Bo pulls you in ruffling your hair and placing a kiss to your head as he holds you real close. “ Next time don't be a little shit when we're tryna be nice. I know your our kid but you ain't gotta act so much like me. “ With this Lester finally comes into the room with Jonesy holding a small pup in his arms. “ We know you kept asking for one for your critters. Got this little girl for you don't know how good she'll be but here yah go baby girl. “ The rest of the night was spent playing with you and Thomas's new pup as you tried to figure a name out while dodging prodding questions and perverted jabs from Hoyt and Luda Mae. The puppy may not have been a child but you to were sure you weren't gonna have trouble in the future making some.

If you enjoy and want more Sinclair Daughter fics let me know. Requests are also open for fanfic ideas I write for slashers and horror villains.

#house of wax #texas chainsaw massacre #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #sinclair daughter #Bo sinclair #Vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #x reader

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fatuismooches · 4 months

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Sobbing rn I just got hit with the cutest hurt/comfort idea for fragile!reader and Dottore

(The hurt in this instance is just fragile!reader's self deprecating inner monologue 😭)

What if reader was the sort who fussed over their appearance a lot? In the Akademiya they wouldn't be caught dead with dark circles under their eyes or having their hair messy.

Even if they did pull all nighters for a project, they always found time to put just a little bit of make-up on to lighten up their eyebags, and always had a simple yet neat hairstyle in mind in times they're in a rush.

They might be perishing from all the studies and assignments but they're going to look good doing it!

This made Reader and Zandik an even odder pair in the Akademiya. Reader who is always neat and in style, versus Zandik who just spent the whole night taking apart a ruin guard somewhere in Avidya Forest until the sun rose and he showed up as is.

That was one of the features Zandik found 'annoying' about Reader before they got together. Like - ugh they're so bubbly and energetic! They're running around everywhere and they're so chatty! Them with their— nice hair! And— pretty eyes, and those robes that actually fit them as if they were tailored! How pretentious of them— (he was down bad. Bro was coping with anger to bat away the feels)

But of course, that was all in the past. In the present, Reader can't take care of their appearance anymore. They couldn't even pick up a hairbrush, their joints ached horribly, they don't have the strength to hold something so light, they don't have the energy to do the basic care of untangling the strands of hair either.

They can't stand looking at their own reflection. That sense of 'wrongness' they couldn't fix, what they couldn't hide. How desperately they wanted to put just a little bit of blush at least, to give their skin some life with how sickeningly pale it was, no longer warm and saturated as it used to be.

They can't look at their eyes either. The greying, sagging bags beneath their lids was a taunt. No amount of sleep would get rid of them.

They can't wear outfits that were too elaborate. Their temperature fluctuated too much, a deathly cold beneath their skin, then a sudden spike in heat as if they were being scorched by the desert sun. They have to wear basic garments, comfortable without hindering layers to slow down their daily check-ups.

Reader is thankful for the segments caring for them, they really are. A segment brushing their hair while talking to them is a highlight of their day.

But... it wasn't the same.

Of course it wouldn't be, the segments were carers, nor stylists.

Still, the fact that they had no control over their appearance and presentation had their mental state withering.

Dottore noticed this. How withdrawn his dear had become. They had their days of silence, yes... but this was more sombre than usual.

He concludes that their illness was flaring up again, and that they were masking their pain instead of consulting with him. He comes to their room of course, his current duties be damned (not that he could've been productive even if he had wanted to, the Segments were restless and shrinking away from their tasks, their darling's current disposition bothered them.)

Opening the door slightly to enter, he sees them blankly staring at their reflection, prodding a finger on their prominent eyebags, rubbing their cheek to see if it would redden.

Ah... how could he had forgotten that. They were once very particular of how they looked. He should have known this possibility, witnessing their own sickly reflection would be distressing...

[The Crow visits a certain Dove. Despite how stiff and vague the Doctor had been with his words, the Damsalette only tittered in understanding, and imparted the knowledge he was seeking.]

The next day, Reader is sat on their vanity, waiting for a Segment to tend to them (always with a little bit of struggle to walk in the morning, but it's the least they could do to be less of an inconvenience already.)

The minutes tick by... he's late. Did something happen?

More time goes by, and they become more worried. They were about to get up and search before the door creaks open.

Zandik...? And he's carrying a... why does he have a bag?

They have plenty of questions. Why the late arrival? What was in the bag? Why was Zandik himself here?

Before they could ask all of this, however, he sets the small bag down on the vanity. He riffles through it... are those make-up brushes?

Wait, make-up?

The next half-hour was spent in stunned silence for Reader's part, Zandik was silent as well out of careful concentration. Gently applying everything, his touch on the brush strokes and blending soft... applying gloss on their lips.

Once Zandik moves on to their hair, they finally catch a glimpse of their reflection. Their cheeks were rosey, the dark circles under their eyes concealed, their lips no longer appearing dry, and instead plump and shimmering.

Oh.

... they almost looked like the way they were before their illness.

Almost.

But it was enough.

(Reader tries so hard not to cry. Fighting back tears, not wanting to ruin the make-up Zandik so diligently applied. Once Zandik was finished with their hair... they may have hiccuped a little bit.)

They may no longer have that upbeat energy they once boasted... but it was comforting to see their old reflection once again. It had been far too long.

You know, I really love this ask because my whole life I've pretty much never used make-up even though I want to so having Dottie do it for me heals me a bit. Also, I'm not very knowledgeable on it so apologies if anything is wrong. Okay, I'm done. 🤏

In all honesty, Dottore was never one to care much for outward looks but he has to admit that you still always manage to look good despite all of the work from school plus all of the work you help with for his experiments, plus... literally everything life throws at you. Yet you still bounce back like it was nothing. The scholar still had not discovered your secret to this yet despite observing you for so long, which furthered his interest in you even though he didn't admit it.

Zandik did maintain his appearance, to an extent of course as he didn't go out of his way to look great, but nothing compared to the effort you put in. So while he did look presentable most of the time, there have been quite a few times you made him late to class because there was no way you were going to let him out looking like that. You don't regret it, even when you get weird looks from the other students. Being 'odd' with your equally as odd lover was nothing to worry about, in your humble opinion.

Although Zandik couldn't hope to understand your strange nature, always mumbling under his breath about you while you laughed at his comments, he also couldn't help but enjoy being around you. You kept him on his toes (your words, not his.)

Unfortunately, this nature and style of yours gradually dissipated into nothing when your illness struck. At first, you refused to accept it, pushing yourself to do what you usually did but soon enough you realized that it simply wasn't going to work out. You had all these tools and resources and options in front of you but you couldn't use them anymore. The self-consciousness only grew more and more each day as you struggled to see yourself as beautiful - struggled to see yourself as a person Dottore would find beautiful.

Of course, your gratitude to the segments couldn't be properly expressed or put into words. You quite literally wouldn't be here without them. However, it is still incredibly demoralizing to be unable to do what you once loved. You really did love them, but... it wasn't enough.

Dottore, despite spending much time in his lab or elsewhere, still kept tabs on you of course. Not just as your doctor, but as your lover, it was important. He had seen you at your lowest numerous times before, comforting you through the worst moments, and he was angered - not at you of course, but rather at himself for being unable to do anything that would be enough for you. Yet he continued, even when you hid yourself from him.

This time, however, maybe the scientist could do a bit more. He doesn't particularly... approve of the Third, or your "friend", but she's far more knowledgeable in this area than he'll ever be. Thankfully, she didn't tease him too much, knowing of your current state.

Dottore had never been one to take much interest in your make-up or style, preferring to simply watch as you worked your magic. So seeing him walk in with make-up makes you think you're still dreaming. (You remember laughing at his segment's various fashion tastes when you woke up though.)

The questions die on your lips the moment he lays everything out and the soft brush tickles your face, not to mention how he's obviously inexperienced yet he's still doing a good job. A part of you aren't surprised because of course he'd be skilled at most things, but still, you thought Celestia would sooner fall on Teyvat than Dottore do your make-up for you. Slowly, you watch as he transforms your face into something that was once dearly familiar.

It's not the same. It may never be. But it's more than enough for you, to revisit the old days that you loved so much. You fear you may cry full-on if you speak, so a simple kiss on your husband's face will have to do.

But regardless of what you look like, no matter how much your body and looks will change, Zandik will always view you as the most beautiful creation on this planet.

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #fragile reader <3 #still thanks to my moot for giving me that explanation and advice 😭🙏#maybe during the summer i will try but idk what my mom will say 💀 i am deceased #i personally have pretty long hair and i get overwhelmed with it sometimes so id love to have the segments brush and take care of it for me #zandy would make me braids!!#i will be rereading this anon thx u #also dottore and bina besties so true

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year

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Could you do Platonic Yanderes Endeavor (reformed), Aizawa, Present Mic, with a child darling who wears a mask and basically said screw hero life and became a vigilante + them finding out there a kid under the mask

Child Vigilante Reader | Yandere Boku No Hero Academia

They recognized that you were short and the words you’d say sounded funny in your deep voice modulator. But it still came as a surprise when they pulled that mask off your face to reveal the lightly battered face of a young child:

Aizawa Shota

Just by your height and general instinct as a hero he’s always putting a protective arm in front of you

And he figures your young with your insistent yells that ‘you’re not a kid’

Only to pick up your injured body taking off your mask to check if your okay

Only to be filled with an overwhelming urge to protect you as he registered how little you are

You’re his kid now

No questions asked

He takes you to his home, having had you checked up by the doctors

He’ll do his research find out what you’re homelife is like

when you don’t show up and a fuss isn’t raise he takes it upon himself to officially adopt you

“You’re not my dad!”

“Your papers don’t say so!”

“Then give ‘em to me I’ll burn it now!”

“No!”

He’s used to dealing with rowdy kids

And he’s willing to deal with your now unpowered fits

And most animosity is cleared up when he gives you some food

You’ll try to run away but he catches you everytime

And eventually you’ll fall into a cycle

Where you join him as you fight crime

Then you go home and live the domestic life with Aizawa

He doesn’t stop you until he feels like its too dangerous and when you’re lured into a false sense of security

“Sorry kid, I can’t have you getting hurt. Trust me this is an act of love.”

Hizashi Yamada

He probably quietly follows you at the end of a long day

Doing the thing he’s never doing around you: Being Quiet

Usually he doesn’t mind working with you

After a couple attempts to bring you in he doesn’t anymore

And instead just works in harmony with you

Usually joking and bantering with you to turn down all his jokes

But he’s horrified to know that your a kid

Young enough to be his kid is so nonreactive to his animated actions

What made you so serious!?

He does the same as Aizawa

Finds out your homelife and legally takes control

“Whazzup kiddo! Guess who’s your new daddy!?”

“A bumbling frat boy idiot-hero?”

“Ack! H-how do you even know to insult me like that!?”

He’s not the best at catching you if you try to run away

But you’re so lucid you’ll end up willingly moving in with him

because child services

He tries

He really does

But you’re such a little adult you end up teaching him how to properly take care of you

He doesn’t really restrict you because you seem like you’re so smart

You usually outsmart him enough to keep doing your vigilante work

But the one time he outsmarts you, he might get some help you’re stuck

At least for this major battle you were prepared to die defeating

“Sorry baby bird, but I can’t have you getting hurt. That’s for your papa to deal with!”

Todoroki Enji (Reformed)

“And you’ll be going away for a loong time.”

“Yes…thank you for your help with this one.”

“Of course! Always happy to help!”

“...”

“...Now reveal yourself to me!”

“Hey!? Let me go!”

He’s suspected you were young from the beginning

And it infuriates him now

That some idiot father of yours would let you run around like this

They’re probably as bad as he was

And he can’t let that be

So he’ll go to your family’s home

And tear them a new one

Practically bullying them into signing adoption papers or at the very least making you meet up with him weekly daily

He’s such an old man

Lecturing you about how you dress

Scolding you when he finds you fighting villains

He’ll force a bunch of tracking devices and bugs in your room

So that he can keep you safe

And when it gets real he doesn’t mind locking you wherever he decides is best

“I’ve done…a lot of horrible things. I’ve hurt my family. I’ve hurt my fans. And you’ll probably hate me but you need me to protect you, to guide you. So trust me, this is for your own good.”

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rashomonss · 7 months

Text

A HUMANS WRATH

Part XV

previous part

taglist: @miridiums-writing, @zerchila, @aeongiies, @xmoogx, @coffeeandtealol, @food-lover9000, @l0diluvs, @vichsy, @valeriele3, @entolomaeden, @acaribeau, @arcayia, @jessiegerl, @capricorn-anon, @crescentworld, @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r, @chumbinhoeba, @chaos-n-kindness, @strawberryfire17, @zenxvii, @misscaller06, @luminarysol, @simpinginthecorner, @your-next-daydream, @bontensbabygirl, @crxwned-mxnarch, @ibtisam-aran, @mochicurls21, @rxsehxney, @xpixie, @ihatecorns, @hello-gloomy, @lunarloathsome, @crazytacokoala, @levia-chan, @bunny-masks-blog

a/n: hey y'all!! yay i finally updated haha….im so sorry it took so long if you’ve been keeping up with my other posts you’ll know that february was not good to me haha

also i wanted to let y’all know that we’re finally reaching the end of this story!! i plan on only making a few more chapters then i believe that’ll be all!

lastly thanks for all y’all’s patience and continued support I love reading every one of y’all’s comments and theories, it means the world! love y'all ♡

warnings: violence, fighting, angst

express just how you feel, don’t bottle it up anymore

“MC how are you? Even though I previously saw you everyday I’ve missed this you” Diavolo said with a bright smile as you joined him for breakfast. No thanks to Barbatos’ constant pestering.

You gave him a polite smile and nod as a response. It was easy enough to come up with a basic answer that you were fine, even if that wasn’t the case at all.

However as he ranted on about missing you and what activities he’d enjoy doing with you after he finished his paperwork you couldn’t help but feel nauseous.

After all he dislocated your shoulder the other day and now he was acting as if everything was perfectly fine?

Even if it was another version of him it was still him in a sense, which filled you with unease. If that version of him could do something that significant to you without so much as a thought then you had every right to be worried.

Is this how the other version of you felt?

Is that why they hated being touched by any demons?

Another hearty laugh broke out sending a chill down your spine. It reminded you of when he cornered you in the hallway as you tried to escape.

“MC are you sure you’re feeling okay? You look a little pale?”

You went to nod but your body betrayed you. A new wave of nausea washed over you and you felt bile rise up in your throat.

“MC…?” Barbatos questioned as he moved closer to you when you ignored Diavolo’s question.

Your fingers gripped the soft tablecloth as you tried to ground yourself. If anything you refused to lose your stomach in front of them.

Both demons looked at each other worryingly and Barbatos went to place a hand on your shoulder for comfort. Immediately you jolted in response and slapped his hand away as a sensation of fear became present in the pit of your stomach.

You had no idea where it came from, much less why you were scared when the butler reached out to help you. But you did know one thing, you didn’t want anyone touching you.

“Don’t touch me!” you yelled.

Your tone of voice startled him and Diavolo but mainly you as well. What was going on with you?

You never acted like this before, even when staying in the other timeline for so long. So why now? Why was everything anyone was doing so triggering you in any sort of way?

“I apologize…I didn't mean to upset you, I only wanted to check if you were okay,” Barbatos replied as he backed off. Even though he didn’t bother showing it, he was clearly worried about your current mental state. It appeared to be out of control ever since you returned. Which was another point he’d have to bring up with him later, since many instructions weren’t followed.

“…I’m…heading back to bed” you replied as you swiftly stood up and made your way to the door.

“But…you just woke up” Diavolo said softly but you were well out of range for his voice to actually reach you.

With a sigh the butler looked to his lord then to the floor. Maybe they weren’t the right demons to welcome you back after being gone for such a decent amount of time. It was better if you were around demons you were used to, ones that were comforting.

So he picked up his D.D.D and quickly called the first demon that came to mind.

___

Seven bodies rushed towards you faster than you could process and some large beautiful roses were shoved in your face as you tried to process everything that was going on.

All seven of your demons began talking at once and exclaimed how much they had missed you.

“Oh MC! I can’t believe you’re back, I’ve missed you so so so terribly” Asmo cried as he clung onto your shoulder.

“Hey let go of them!” Mammon yelled in your ear as he tried yanking you away from Asmo.

“Stop pushing” Belphie groaned as he hugged your frame from behind.

“Mammon stop yelling so loudly” Levi shouted out as he was hugging you from the same side Asmo was.

The other three demons who weren’t suffocating you were also arguing with their brother as they clung onto you. Yelling and shouting could be heard from all around you as you stayed in place watching all seven of them yell back and forth like children.

It was too overwhelming. The yelling in your ear, the way one would hold you tighter if they got mad, the way four of them were putting all of their body weight on you was too much for your liking. And the fact the other three were aggravating the four who were holding onto you.

You felt so suffocated.

You were suffocated in your own timeline due to your willingness to indulge all of the seven demons you lived with.

You were suffocated in the other timeline because you decided to show some demons some kindness they hadn’t experienced for a very long time. Look where that got you. A dislocated shoulder and some unresolved issues that you refused to acknowledge.

You were suffocated with the prince and his butler. They always were on some type of schedule, and when you didn’t follow what Diavolo wanted at that very second, you would never hear the end of it from Barbatos.

Why was everyone so demanding?

God forbid you do something for yourself for once.

You struggled in their grip and tried to get their attention to possibly settle down. The constant loud yelling was getting you more agitated by the minute and frankly you were getting a headache.

Just as you were about to speak someone yelled over you and a fight between two of them broke out. Since you were absolutely fed up with it you shouted for all of them to shut up and pushed them off of you.

Each of the seven demons shut their mouth in an instant and the prince and butler looked at you with a worried expression. Due to that being the same tone of voice you used with Barbatos earlier he knew that something was obviously wrong.

Diavolo then spoke up for you as he walked over to the brothers. “Don’t mind them, a lot is on their mind right now especially since they’ve dealt with so much physically and emotionally these past couple days. So please give MC some space to relax”

You in turn shot him a glare. “I’m perfectly fine. However I don’t appreciate it when someone is screaming in my ear and putting all their weight on me while others are fighting in the background like children”

“How about you head back to the House of Lamentation. A lot is on your mind MC, it would do you good to go rest in a place you’re comfortable and familiar with” Barbatos then added trying his best to ease the tension in the room and change the topic as well.

With a nod you departed with the brothers about fifteen minutes later for a silent trip to the House of Lamentation. Each of them were too worried to bother you so they all left you to do your own thing when you all got home.

However Mammon was still going to try to comfort you in his own way.

“Hey MC, ya wanna hang out and watch a movie? I got a few in my room and we can relax” he asked with a soft smile as she walked up behind you.

“Thanks but I’d rather rest right now, maybe later” and before he could even finish you were off.

It was odd, during any other time you would’ve enjoyed hanging out and relaxing in his room like you used to but as of now you really wanted to just be by yourself.

So quietly you made your way to your room and when you opened the door you were absolutely applauded by the way it looked.

Everything was everywhere and the decorations you had of you and your demons were ripped and taken down. Clean clothes were piled onto a chair and your bed was an absolute mess as a few shits and things littered the floor.

However you were too tired to take care of it at the moment. Due to how emotional exhausted you were a nap sounded lovey so you plopped down and in minutes you were out.

___

Around late afternoon you had walked into the kitchen to grab a snack since you didn’t exactly have much of an appetite after everything that had happened in the past two days. Surprisingly enough two demons were already occupying the kitchen when you arrived, one gossiped and the other listened even though he was believably bored.

“MC” Satan said with a smile, he was very grateful that someone showed up to stop Asmo’s rambling.

With a nod you dug through the fridge and grabbed something to eat and walked over to the two hesitantly.

“What are you both talking about?” You asked after they stayed silent and smiled at you.

Amso was the first to perk up and tell you. “Well we were just talking about some new gossip about this one actor and her husband, some people we know and you…well the other you”

“The other me?” You asked

“Yeah the one you switched with remember.” Satan added.

You nodded and then looked at them before responding. Just how did the other version of you act? Were they like the other Barbatos said? Angry, stubborn, and everything. Did they treat your demons like how they’d treated theirs? So many questions ran through your head at once, but you opted for only asking a basic one.

“So just how was the other version of me?”

“They were a bit intense at first…no I take it back they were really intense at first, but in reality they only wanted one thing in the end then they finally were content” Asmo said as he reapplied some lipstick to his lips.

“Really what did they want?” You asked, now interested in the other versions' motives.

“They just wanted an apology. After Belphie gave them an honest heart to heart in the planetarium they finally calmed down and we were able to be civil with them” Asmo explained.

“Yeah and they even started opening up a bit, although they were exactly like you so learning about what they liked was cute since we already know what you enjoy” Satan added with a smirk.

You tuned out the rest of the conversation they were having with you as you focused on the said “apology” Belphie gave the other version of you.

So it was true and they weren’t lying when they talked to you previously in the attic. Somehow that ticked you off even more.

“Oh yeah and we’re so sorry you had to go through all that crazy timeline stuff dear, I bet it’s been so exhausting huh?” Asmo asked as he rubbed your back.

“Uh huh” you replied and then brushed him off as you excused yourself out of the kitchen without another word, causing the two demons to look at you with a slightly confused expression.

Silently you paced around the house for a bit as you rethought about what the two of them said. With a sigh you ventured into the common room and stared at the fireplace. So you were worth a basic sorry but not one that took responsibility for all the damage they caused you?

It’s not as if their words actually meant anything. Honestly if they had been keen on sweeping the whole incident under the rug then why even offer the other version of you an apology?

They did it to better help them heal?

Bullshit.

What about you?

How come they could do that for anyone else other than you?

When you’ve helped them so much.

Your rage and jealousy had been bubbling up inside you for so long that it finally reached its breaking point.

If anyone was supposed to receive any words or actions of their forgiveness it should’ve been you and you were tired of pretending you didn’t deserve anything less than that.

In a rage you trashed the common room as Asmo and Satan watched in horror since they just happened to walk by.

They rushed to try and stop you but you used your pact to stop them in place as you broke everything in sight. The sound of yelling and glass breaking alerted all the other demons in the house and soon the rest of them watched in awe as you demolished anything in your path.

Mammon ran to you as you ripped the roses they all bought for you and tore them to shreds right in front of them. When he reached you he grabbed you by the arm and you shoved him away and yelled at him in response.

They all just kept getting in your way, it was so unbearable.

As the six demons froze in place due to their activated pacts you picked up one of the large vases Lucifer loved and proceeded to lift it up to throw at them.

“This is all your fault! Look at what you’ve done to me” you screamed out to the six demons standing in front of you. Your cry was not one of just anger, they could sense the sorrow in your voice. The way it cracked and longed to just be healed.

You wanted someone to comfort you and the ability for someone, anyone honestly to just acknowledge what had happened to you. Maybe then if they did you could finally feel like your feelings were valid, rather than unnecessary and pointless.

Fresh tears fueled by pure anger and frustration fell from your eyes as you got ready to swing the vase at the six of them. That was until the youngest brother rushed in front of his brothers and spoke.

“This is my fault MC, please don’t take it out on my brothers” Belphie said as he stepped in front of the six of them, shielding them with his body.

“No it’s not just your fault. It’s all of your faults. Don’t feel too special Belphie, you're not the only one out of your brothers who has tried to kill me.” you spat out.

“Each of you have threatened to end my life at least once ever since I’ve been here, and believe me I haven’t forgotten a single moment of it. Unlike before I continued to ignore what happened just like all of you but I’m fed up now.”

The seven demons looked at themselves then back at you and sighed.

“MC we’re truly sorry, you know we-“ Lucifer began.

“I don’t want your apology. It means nothing to me anymore. Especially since you can go and hand it out to whoever now” you replied swiftly, cutting him off in the process.

“Then if I truly can’t make you believe me I’ll show you.” Belphie then said quickly.

“And how do you expect to do that?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of your body.

“Take it out on me.”

“Excuse me?”

“All of your anger, everything you’ve had building up. Punch me, hit me, choke me, do whatever you need to do so that you don’t have to feel this way. I know my apology means nothing to you, and believe me this is much more selfish of me to ask you to do this but I want to make it up to you MC. Even if you’ll hate me for the rest of your life I want you to get the closure you deserve. I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you. For as long as I live”

Your eyes widened slightly as you looked at him in shock. You hadn’t expected him to actually respond like that, much less take responsibility for everything that had happened.

“Belphie-!” Beel began, he was still standing back with the others, but the worried look on his face was apparent as he watched his twin pour his heart out to the person they both cherished.

Belphie shook his head at his twin then looked back towards you. “I promise MC, I’ll show you how much of a better demon I can be. So go ahead”

The six demons behind you watched as you slowly approached the youngest hesitantly. Surprisingly enough he still had the same soft smile on his face as he watched you come closer.

Then you swung.

With a swift punch to the face, right on the nose Belphie stumbled back and grabbed his face as a small drop of blood pooled out.

You swung again.

And again,

And again.

As you watched the youngest fall to the floor you continued. And for some odd reason you didn’t feel bad about how beat up he was beginning to look.

Instead you finally felt a form of closure for the first time.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me angst #demon brothers #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me levithan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos

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