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springtyme · 8 months

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51 ✨ for carmy 🐻

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐀𝐭 𝐀 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 ♡

Thank you for the request, anon! I hope you like it 💕

Carmen Berzatto x reader || Carmy playlist || Main masterlist

51: “I can’t live without you.”

The strain of Carmy's new responsibilities at The Beef has taken a toll on your relationship, leaving you worried and questioning your place in his life. And you're scared, but not for the reason Carmy thinks.

Angst (with a happy ending). Hurt/comfort. Mention of what happened to Michael.

word count: 2.1k

You stand in the dimly lit hallway of your apartment, anxiously tapping your foot against the worn floorboards. It’s late, much later than Carmen had told you he would be home. The clock on the wall mocks you with its ticking, each second feeling like an eternity.

Your relationship with Carmen has been strained lately, the weight of his responsibilities after taking over The Beef after Micheal’s death has taken a toll on both of you.

You and Carmen had met in New York, about two years ago, when he had moved into the apartment next to yours. You had not looked for a relationship and neither had Carmen, but it was like fate had kept pushing the two of you together.

It had just started out with a few chance encounters in the hallway or at the local grocery store, with him stumbling slightly over his words as he asked you about your day or offered to carry your groceries.

But it had been a power outage which had left the whole building in darkness that really had brought you together. You had fumbled your way out in the hallway to figure out if it was just your apartment that had lost power or if it was the whole building. And that’s when you had bumped into Carmen, literally. His strong arms had wrapped around you instinctually, preventing you from falling on your ass.

You had candles in your apartment, unlike Carmen so you had invited him in to share the light and wait for the power to be restored. As the hours passed, you two ended up talking and getting to know each other better. It was a simple yet intimate evening, and from that moment on, you felt a connection that you couldn’t ignore and a sweet friendship had blossomed between you.

He didn’t have much time off, literally working at one of the best restaurants in the world, but the moments you did spend together were cherished, and it hadn’t taken long before your connection had grown even stronger, evolving into something more than just friendship and eventually blossoming into a real and deep relationship.

You had not hesitated to say yes to move back to Chicago with him after his brother had passed away.

You never got to meet Michael, Carmen didn’t really speak to him through all the time you dated, you've never fully understood what had happened between them, but you have a feeling that Carmen didn't really knew it either, and he has never really liked talking about his family in general, but you do know that he loved Michael a lot.

You had tried to convince him to go to the funeral, telling him that you would be there for him, but he had kept shooting the idea down. He kept excusing it by saying that he couldn’t, his contract at the French Laundromat hadn’t expired yet, and despite that being true, you had a feeling that going to the funeral would make the loss of his brother feel all the more real, and that was something he wasn’t ready for.

You also had the feeling that he didn’t want to see his mother, at least not in that setting, so you had just decided that you would let him grieve in his own way, and just be there for him in whatever way he needed you to.

It had been the same you had done with his job after all.

You know that he had loved his job in New York, in his own fucked up way. It was a messed up, down right toxic, work environment, and it had hurt to see him come home every night, tired to the bone, both physically and emotionally drained, yet he kept doing it. His ineffable love for the culinary arts that just couldn’t be extinguished kept him going. It is just after you moved to Chicago a month ago that he told you that he would throw up every morning before work.

It crushed you to hear that Carmen was suffering silently, but you understood why he continued to push through. The restaurant industry was demanding and competitive, and Carmen was determined to prove himself. You had hoped that the move to Chicago would bring some relief, a fresh start away from the toxicity of his previous job. However, the weight of his responsibilities at The Beef seemed to have only deepened the strain on your relationship.

You love him, and you want to be there for him, no matter what. But the constant absence and distance have started to make you question where you stand in his life. But most of all you’re just sad that he is sad, or really it's more that you're sad that he is in a situation that should make him sad, it's like he doesn’t even really allow himself to be sad, and that really hurts to watch.

You try to push away those negative thoughts, you try yo remind yourself that Carmen is just going through a difficult time, but that just makes the worried feeling in the pit of your stomach feel even heavier.

As the front door finally creaks open, your heart skips a beat. Carmen steps inside, his weary eyes meeting yours. The exhaustion etched on his face is painfully evident, and your worry intensifies, yet you're just so happy to see him. As he slides off his jacket his white t-shirt comes into view, it’s stained with sauces and his hands bear the marks of countless hours spent in the kitchen, but it’s the weariness in his eyes that tears at your heart.

“Hey,” he mumbles, his voice hoarse from lack of rest. “Why are you still up?

You muster a small smile, trying to hide your concern. “I couldn’t sleep,” you admit softly, stepping closer to him. “I was worried about you. You said you’d be home earlier.”

Carmen sighs heavily, running a hand through his unruly hair. “I know, I’m sorry, it was just... things got really busy tonight.”

You nod, biting your lip to hold back the words that threaten to spill out. You want to scream at him, not from a place of anger, but frustration, to make him understand that his health is more important than any sandwich on the menu. But you also know that he pours everything he got into the restaurant.

“I’m just worried about you, Carmy,” you finally manage to say, your voice tinged with both frustration and concern. “You work yourself to the bone, and it’s taking a toll on you. I can’t bear to see you like this.”

He sighs, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I know, but there is not much I can do about it, okay. I’m sorry for putting you through this. But I can’t just abandon the restaurant. If I don’t fix it Jimmy’s gonna sell it and turn it into a fucking Applebee’s.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you take a step closer to him. “I get that, Carm. I do. But you need to take care of yourself too. It hurts seeing you like this.”

Carmen looks at you, his tired eyes searching your face. There’s a mix of frustration and resignation in his gaze, as if he knows you’re right but doesn’t know how to change the situation. The weight of his responsibilities seems to visibly crush him, and it breaks your heart.

“I know, I know,” Carmen says, his voice tinged with defeat. “But it’s not that simple. The Beef is struggling, and I need to turn it around. I can’t just walk away.”

Your frustration builds, and you can’t help but argue back. “I understand that, Carmy, but you also can’t sacrifice your well-being for the sake of this restaurant. There has to be a way to find a balance, to take care of yourself too.”

“I know I need to take care of myself, and I don’t want to keep putting you through this,” his voice taking on a more frustrating tone, he isn’t yelling, but there’s an edge to it. “But I just... I don’t know how to do that right now, okay”

The tone of his voice makes you pause for a moment, he has never talked to you like that before and you can’t help but slightly flinch. You know that he is just frustrated but it still makes you feel a deep pang of hurt. It’s not that you’re scared or anything, you know that he would never ever hurt you, you’re just sad that it has come to this.

But seeing you flinch clearly affects Carmen, his frustrated expression softening, turning into an expression of guilt and regret instead.

You swallow the lump in your throat and take a deep breath, trying to regain your composure before saying what you need to say. “I love you, Carmen, and I want you to be happy. But I can’t stand by and watch you destroy yourself in the process.” you’re taking a deep breath before continuing, “you’re scaring me.”

Carmen’s gaze meets yours, the expression in his eyes breaking your heart. “I never wanted to scare you. And I-I would never hurt you.”

This makes your heart break even more, yes you had flinched at his tone of voice, but not because you in any way had thought he would physically hurt you, never. The thing you’re scared of is that he’ll end up hurting himself…

You reach out to take Carmen’s hand, wanting to assure him that you understand his intentions, but also wanting to convey the depth of your concern.

“I’m not scared you’ll hurt me, Carm. I know you’d never do that. I’m scared you’ll hurt yourself.” Tears are now streaming down your cheeks, your voice trembling as you’re about to unveil your biggest fear in all of this. “I just don’t want you to end up like Micheal, okay… I was scared that the reason you didn’t come home was because you had blown your brains out on a bridge somewhere.”

Carmen’s eyes widen at your words, a mixture of shock and pain flashing across his face.

He reaches out to gently wipe away your tears, his touch warm and comforting. “I’m not going to end up like Michael,” he whispers, his voice filled with a mixture of determination and vulnerability. “I promise you, I could never do that to you.”

You hold onto his hand tightly, desperately seeking reassurance. “But Carmy, you’re pushing yourself so hard. You’re not taking care of yourself, and it scares me. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t live without you.”

He pulls you into a tight embrace, holding you as if he never wants to let go. “You don’t have to, I promise you.” His voice cracks with emotion, and you can feel his tears dampening your shoulder.

You hold onto him just as tightly, your heart breaking for the pain he’s been carrying alone and you’re just so happy that he is finally letting himself cry.

Carmen pulls away slightly to look into your eyes, his expression a mix of gratitude and determination. “I don’t deserve you, but I’m so grateful to have you by my side.”

You smile through your tears, relieved to see him opening up and acknowledging the need for change. “We’ll figure it out together. We’ll find a way to make things work.”

“Yeah, we will,” he nods, before continuing. “I… I actually started going to Al-Anon, I go three times a week.”

You’re taken aback by Carmen’s revelation, but also immensely proud of him for taking this step. You gently squeeze his hand, your love for him growing with each passing moment. “That’s amazing, Carm,” you say softly. “For how long?”

“I started going two weeks ago, I don’t know why I didn’t say anything earlier,” he admits, a hint of shame in his voice. “I guess I just needed to take it in my own tempo.”

You shake your head, wiping away your remaining tears. “It’s okay, Carm, I’m just so glad you’re looking out for yourself.”

Carmen takes a deep breath, his gaze filled with renewed determination. “I really don’t deserve you, thank you for not giving up on me, even when I pushed you away. I love you so much, and I promise I’ll find a way to make this work.”

You lean in and press a gentle kiss to his lips, feeling a sense of hope and unity. “I love you too, Carmy. And yeah, we’ll face this together, one step at a time.”

Thank you for reading! ♡ this is my first time writing for Carmy and I had such a blast writing for him, but I also was a little intimidated by this piece, so please let me know what you thought ♡

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corruptedcaps · 8 months

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Inner Demons

Special thanks to @lsat (discord: thedivergence, Twitter: LSAT1886) for providing the idea and the images used here.

In the quiet corridors of Saint Agnes Convent, Mother Superior Mary Catherine moved with grace, her silver hair framing a face etched with kindness and wisdom. Her gentle presence enveloped the nuns in a soothing aura of compassion. With each step, the creaking floorboards bore witness to decades of devotion.

Mother Mary Catherine's care extended beyond the spiritual realm; she knew the name and story of every sister under her watch. Her wrinkled hands crafted remedies for ailments, and her warm smile healed wounded spirits. In the convent's courtyard, where roses bloomed in vibrant hues, she often gathered the sisters for moments of shared laughter and reflection.

The tranquility of Saint Agnes Convent was soon interrupted when a bus rolled into the quiet convent, carrying a group of new sisters. Mother Mary Catherine stood at the gates ready to meet her new flock but in particular was interested to meet one new member in particular.

Kat stepped off the bus and immediately lit up a cigarette. Her purple hair and leather jacket standing out amongst the crowd of pious women ready to start their new life devoted to god. By comparison Kat looked like she wanted to be anywhere else but then again the judge had given her the choice between the convent or jail and she had picked the habit over the prison jumpsuit but she was immediately starting to regret her choice.

Mother Superior locked her eyes on the young delinquent and walked over to her with an open mind and an open heart. Kat had just taken a long drag of her cigarette when she turned and accidentally blew the exhaled smoke in the Mother Superior’s face. Rather than apologize she instead laughed.

“Grey smoke, I guess that means there’s a new pope… or does that mean there’s isn’t? Whatever, which way to my room?” Kat said with a smirk. Mother superior stood in frozen shock at the young woman’s blatant disrespect. So much so that Kat eventually rolled her eyes and walked away to find her room.

As the days unfolded at Saint Agnes Convent, Kat's rebellious spirit began to infect her fellow newcomers. The once-pious group found themselves drawn to her edgy charm and the allure of more free wheeling spirit that seemed to exude from her. Within a week Kay had a small but growing group of followers who seemed to be less interested in their religious duties by the second.

The Mother Superior tried her best to bite her tongue and put their changing attitudes down to nervousness. She had hoped it would all settle itself soon enough but this hopeful thought was shattered as Mother Mary Catherine stumbled upon a scene that tested the limits of her patience.

In the dim moonlight, she discovered Kat and a group of sisters stumbling back into the sacred grounds, laughter echoing in the hallowed corridors. The scent of alcohol lingered, staining the air with a discordant note of rebellion.

Mother Mary Catherine's eyes widened in disbelief as she witnessed the blatant disregard for the convent's sanctity.

“Ladies! This is simply unacceptable! This is no way future servants of god to be acting!” She said letting her anger rise for the first time in a decade.

“Oh shut up you old crone! The only person I serve is myself.” Kat giggled drunkenly, with her cohort joining in with the laughter as they stumbled off to their rooms.

Tears welled in Mother Mary Catherine's eyes as she struggled to comprehend the unraveling of the sacred haven she had devoted her life to. In the face of this final straw, she grappled with the challenge of restoring order to a sisterhood now teetering on the edge of chaos.

Determined to salvage the sanctity of her order and the souls of all the girls infected by Kat, Mother Mary Catherine knew she had to do something extreme.

With unwavering conviction, Mother Mary Catherine headed to the library and entered a room she alone had the key too. It was a room she had swore to never set in foot to but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Scanning the arcane tomes in the private room, she finally found the book she was looking for. Pulling it off the shelf she had a moment of pause as she read its cover. It’s Latin roughly translating to ‘Witches Handbook’. All the books in here were vile and evil tomes that the church had collected over the centuries.

Flipping the pages she found what she was looking for. Demonic exorcism. She knew that Kat had a poison in her that needed to be removed and while it wasn’t demonic in nature, she was sure this spell would work to exorcise Kat’s ‘inner’ demons.

As if to solidify her resolve, Mother Mary Catherine suddenly heard the cackling laughter of Kat coming from her bed chambers. It was almost taunting the Mother Superior whose gentle features grimaced at the sound and ended her conflicted mind.

After an hour of waiting for the cruel laughter to die down, Mother Mary Catherine made her way across the solemn hush of the convent to Kat’s room. Creeping in she was relieved to find that Kat was passed out.

The Mother Superior commenced the unorthodox exorcism over Kat’s unconscious form, her words resonating with an ancient power. As she uttered the sacred verses, a tangible shift occurred—the air thickened with an eerie energy, and a vibrant purple cloud materialized, swirling around Kat’s inebriated body.

Mother Mary Catherine's eyes widened in astonishment as the ethereal mist, laden with the essence of Kat's rebellious spirit, rose from her mouth. The bed chambers seemed to pulse with an otherworldly force. Yet, to her shock, the amorphous cloud didn't dissipate into the air; instead, it surged toward Mother Mary Catherine, quick as a gust of wind.

Before she could react, the purple mist enveloped her, winding its way into her mouth. A moment of eerie silence settled over the room, broken only by the distant echoes of the town. Mother Mary Catherine stood, breathless, her eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and uncertainty. Before she could wonder what had happened Kat began to stir so she made her way quickly out.

By the time the Mother Superior had made it back to her bed, she was exhausted. She barely made it to her mattress before collapsing into a deep sleep. In the stillness of the night, Mother Mary Catherine drifted into an unsettling dream. The sacred confines of the convent transformed into a surreal landscape, where she encountered a distorted version of herself. In the dream, she stood tall, her demeanor starkly different—purple hair cascading down her shoulders, clad in tight leather that whispered of unstoppable power.

The dream cast her as a strict disciplinarian, a figure she scarcely recognized. Her eyes, usually wellsprings of compassion, held an unyielding authority that seemed to clash with the gentle guidance she had embodied for decades. As the dream unfolded, she found herself enforcing rules with an iron fist, a stark departure from the nurturing spirit that had defined her tenure as Mother Superior.

Most startling however was how she punished those who stepped out of line. She would pull off their habits and flog them for the whole convent to see. She would clamp their nipples, bind their limbs, and hit them with a leather whip. However the victim would seem to enjoy it, pleading with the Mother Superior to punish them further.

Before she could continue though, the Mother Superior found herself waking to the sounds of the convent’s cock, welcoming everyone to a new day. She jolted awake to find her undergarments soaked. Embarrassed she quickly undressed and got into a fresh outfit and took a moment to compose herself in the mirror.

She scarcely used the mirror and so didn’t notice that a lot of her wrinkles had seemed to have faded. Her silver hair was darker now, her liver spots had faded and her lips plump and full. She hadn’t even noticed that she had unconsciously picked out one of her older habits, one that teased cleavage.

However Mary Catherine took little notice of the change, save for an absentminded thought of how good she looked. That thought was quickly dispelled as she left her room and spotted Kat across the courtyard. Memories of last night flooded back into Mary Catherine’s mind of the exorcism and the wicked dream she had after. She was so preoccupied with it that she didn’t watch where she was going and bumped into one of the sisters, Sister Helen.

“Oh I’m so sorry Sister Mary Catherine, I didn’t see you there.” The sister said apologetically.

“You fool! Watch where you are going! And call me by my title!” Mary Catherine said, snapping at the girl uncharacteristically.

“I-I’m very sorry Sis- I mean Mother Superior. It won’t happen again.” Sister Helen said almost trembling and Mary Catherine could feel her panties begin to get wet at the sight.

“See that it doesn’t.” She said peering down at the girl with an intense stare. The nun quickly averted her gaze and left. Mary Catherine meanwhile felt a smirk cross her lips. She had never demanded such respect before, it felt intoxicating. She felt like she could boss anyone around, as was her right, and she knew who to start with.

Strolling over to Kat surrounded by her makeshift gang, Mary Catherine took the cigarette from the leather clad brat and stamped it on the ground.

“What the hell!” Kat cried.

“You and your little cohort here are going to scrub every floor of this place starting right now, understand?” Mary Catherine said looming over the pack, the majority of which fled. Kat and a few others remained, unwavering in their defiance and yet Mary Catherine could see something in Kat’s eyes, a crack in her armor.

“As if. Come on girls.” Kat said standing up and walking away obstinately with her friends in tow. Mary Catherine was angered but knew that something had happened last night, that Kat had lost some of her power. She also knew that she absorbed that power and so it as clear what she had to do next.

This time Mary Catherine did not creep into Kat’s room, but strolled in confidently. She was certain Kat would be passed out like last night because she had seen the young hellion sneak into the chapel and take the communion wine. Mary Catherine could have stopped her but knew letting Kat take it would only be to her advantage.

Standing over Kat, the Mother superior did not hesitate as she had done before and in fact positioned herself closer to the sleeping brat to absorb her essence quicker. Speaking the words aloud, Mary Catherine opened her mouth wide after her final word and tasted the sweet purple wisps as they slid down her throat.

Where the previous changes happened over night, new changes happened instantaneously to Mary Catherine’s body, spurred on by her own want. The last of her wrinkles disappeared as her skin grew soft and taut. Her hair lost all of its grey returning to her natural black but with stops of purple too and her breasts were now close to spilling out of her habit.

Her mind meanwhile never felt better, never felt more free. Kat’s rebellious and selfish mind was overriding most of the remaining kind thoughts that the Mother Superior had left.

Licking her lips she looked down at Kat with increasing disdain. She also revelled in seeing Kat’s younger good looks fade as her own appearance started to improve. Strolling over to the mirror Mary Catherine smirked at her new appearance but also at the feeling of strength she now felt coursing through her body.

“Mmmm yessss Kat’s strong resolve is much more suited in my body. It’s clear now that I was too weak before, too much of a pushover. With Kat’s attitude flowing through me I’ll finally have the respect I deserve.” Mary Catherine mused to herself in the mirror.

But something was seeming off about her whole look. Her old habit mixed with her now more youthful body made her appearance somewhat comical. She needed something more fitting her body. That’s when she spotted Kat’s ajar suitcase.

Opening it up hungrily, Mary Catherine was delighted to see such wickedly tight outfits inside. She ran her fingers over their shiny surface, imagining her new younger body slipping inside. Underneath the clothes were an assortment of sex toys and aids, including a leather whip.

The word whip repeated in her mind and made her remember her salacious dream from the previous night. Her pussy started to get wet at the thought of it. Her eyes wandered over to Kat’s sleeping body and she couldn’t help imagining the bitch strung up with a ball gag in her mouth. The Mother Superior had to drag herself out of the room for fear she might make her dream a reality, but she felt compelled to take the bag. That’s when she ran into Sister Helen again.

“I am SO SO sorry Mother Superior, I know you said before, oh my Sister, you look so young and beaut-” the nervous nun said with a mixture of fear and curiosity in her eyes but Mary Catherine cut her off.

“You insubordinate little maggot.” Mary Catherine said with venom in her words as a voice in her head urged her to punish sister Helen.

“You will be punished for this heinous infraction.” Mary Catherine said looming down on the young nun.

“Y-yes of course, I’ll clean whatever you want, I’ll say a thousand rosaries. I’ll do anything.” Helen said pleading. Mary Catherine stayed silent however, choosing to simply smile unnervingly at Helen and beckon the young nun to follow her.

Helen walked timidly into the Mother Superior’s bed chambers after Mary Catherine who had disappeared into her connected bathroom. Helen stood nervously, not wanting to touch anything for fear she would do something to anger the Mother Superior. However her nervousness only skyrocketed as Mary Catherine walked out of the bathroom in a most unexpected outfit.

Gone was her habit, replaced with tight black latex that showed off her impressive curves. What was most shocking was the item in the Mother Superior’s hand. While having zero experience with such things, Helen was sure that Mary Catherine was holding some sort of sex toy in her hand. It was a large almost wand like item that seemed to glow purple and hand a long length of leather attached. Helen shuddered to think what she had in mind for it.

“Undress. Now.” Mary Catherine said sternly.

“Mother Superior, I don’t think this is-” Helen began before Mary Catherine snapped back.

“That’s right you don’t think. You don’t think where you are going and you don’t pay attention to those that are more important around you. But that changes tonight. Now strip!” Mary Catherine said with malice. Helen obliged by slowly undressing.

Within a few minutes Helen was standing naked in front of the Mother Superior who eyed the girl up and down. Swinging her sex you she approached the nun until their faces were mere inches apart. Helen didn’t know until it was too late, but Mary Catherine did this to distract the young nun from the sudden insertion of the sex you into her pussy.

Helen gasped as the cold phallic object pushed deep into her vagina until with a pop her lips closed tightly around it. Helen couldn’t help but shivering in pleasure. She had never allowed even herself to delve so deep but the sex you felt as comfortable as a glove.

“Come here my pet.” Mary Catherine said as she walked a few feet away. Helen however stood still, still rather shocked by what was happening. Rolling her eyes the Mother Superior tugged on the leather lead and Helen was compelled forward. Each step hitting a different erogenous zone.

“Now my pet, I have enchanted this wonderful little device to slowly instill you with subservience to me the longer you wear it. I found it in this deliciously dark book of spells. I’m starting to think witches may have had the right idea. I’m telling you all this because you will, by now, be unable to fight the growing loyalty you feel towards me, isn’t that right?” Mary Catherine said with an evil smile.

Helen looked at the Mother Superior, her face conflicted. Inside her mind, a war was raging, one that the moral and just part of her was losing. She smiled at Mary Catherine and said, “Of course Mother Superior, I will do anything you ask.”

“Excellent, now get on all fours like the dog that you are, you are going to lick my new boots clean with that wretched tongue of yours.” Mary Catherine said looking at her new leashed companion with equal parts disgust and excitement.

The next day the convent was a buzz with word that the Mother Superior had gotten some sort of makeover. Gone were her sensible habits and elderly charm replaced with outfits that showed off her new youthful voluptuous figure paired with a distinctively cold demeanour.

Over the next week she seemed to pull up nuns for the smallest of infractions and banish them to her quarters where she would enter soon after. The nuns would then emerge changed, more docile, more loyal to the new Mother Superior. Weirder still was that the Mother Superior herself seemed different too. She would exit her room looking younger, hotter, and more confident.

Some of the nuns she reprimanded had become her enforcers, reporting infractions directly back to Mary Catherine. Enforcers like Sister Helen even started to dress and act like the Mother superior, copying her purple hair, wearing tight latex outfits. The convent was looking less like a place of worship for god each day and more like a cult of worship to one woman, Mary Catherine.

But despite her growing authority over the convent, Mary Catherine still felt a tug at her conscience, a little voice that nagged at her telling her what she was doing was wrong. She had only wanted to stop the spread of Kat’s influence over the other sisters and instead she had taken that influence and weaponized it for herself.

And yet she couldn’t deny the results. The sisters had never been in such revelry towards her. It was an intoxicating feeling having so many of them literally kiss her feet and praise the actions that she committed. Even when they were deplorable acts against themselves, they begged her for more. No Mary Catherine needed a change but not to her new outlook.

Walking confidently over to Kat’s bed chambers, the Mother Superior was done with hiding in the shadows and instead kicked the door down with her six inch heels waking Kat inside.

“W-what the hell are you doing?” Said an incredulous Kat but the Mother Superior just simply snapped her fingers and a swarm of her loyal supporters rushed in and held Kat down.

“You’ve been a thorn in my side since you arrived you little bitch, but if it were not for you then I wouldn’t have realized what power I was lacking. And now it’s time I take the last of that power from you.” Mary Catherine said with a disturbing smile as she produced her magical sex toy that she had used to build her growing army. Only this time there was a matching glowing plug on the other end as well.

Stilling up to Kat, she shoved one in into the rebel’s pussy and watched with joy as Kat’s eyes rolled back into her head. She had made the magic much more potent this time after all. Taking the other end she then delighted in slipping it into her own wet pussy. With a pop it found purchase nearly inside her and she grinned in satisfaction.

Happy that they were ready, Mary Catherine began chanting the Latin words she had memorized. As she did, the plugs deep inside her and Kat began to glow. Their two bodies became bright purple sources of light. So bright that the other nuns had to shield their eyes.

“Yessss! Yessss! Give me everything! Make me everything she was! Erase the last drop of good in me!” Mary Catherine yelled as the light filled the room.

Then just as quickly as the light had appeared, it disappeared with a whoosh. The nuns in the room all blinked and rubbed their eyes, trying to refocus their vision. Once they had they found only one figure remained where once there had been two.

Mary Catherine stood transformed before them. Everything about her was more emphasized than before. Her hair more purple, her tits bigger, her nails sharper, her face colder, and her power inarguabe. “Mother Superior are you ok? Are you hurt?” Helen asked concerned. Mary Catherine responded by grabbing Helen by her neck and lifting her effortlessly off of the ground.

“Never better. From this day forth you shall refer to me no longer as Mother Superior Mary Catherine, but instead as Goddess Katherine. Understood?” The new goddess commanded and the rest of the sisters all nodded and bowed in respect. Katherine looked at Helen and for a moment contemplated snapping her neck. The thought brought a wetness to her pussy that delighted her but she knew she would need Helen, at least for now and so let her down.

“Thank you Goddess for the pain, I do not deserve your touch.” Helen said sycophantically kneeling before her mistress. Katherine didn’t even pay her much attention and instead walked out of the room into the cool moonlight of the courtyard. She licked her lips as she looked at all the doors belonging to the nuns she had yet to ‘bless’.

“Come along sisters, we have much work to do.” She said with a wicked smile as she strode to the closest door, ready to convert another sister to her flock.

THE END

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #evil bitch #power transfer #cc2024

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laurentidal · 2 months

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Taken By the Night

Sequel to Haunted.

Renee had never set foot in Greenhampton House before. Her parents had warned her that the place was evil. She knew that it had been a whore house before and she'd just assumed the small-minded community labeled it impure. Overtime, that label had crystalized into "evil." But even if she didn't believe the stories of devil worship and ritual sacrifice, something about the place still set her hair on edge.

She often forgot it was there, truth be told. It wasn't until that nice woman had bought it that she began to consider it regularly again. She was in Renee's shop often buying new shades of paint and asking advice. Renee told her the stories of the house and she laughed them off.

"It's not such a bad place. Just needs a fresh coat of paint," she said with a wink. And yet week after week, she'd return for new colors and new brands. She said no matter what she did, the paint would flake and peel. Finally she relented and bought a rich dark green. "This is what's on the walls now. Maybe the house won't be so temperamental about this one."

Renee thought the comment was odd, but she must have been right. That was the last time Aahna came to the store for paint. After that, she only came to talk. She seemed quite happy there in the old manor. Every time she came in she'd yawn as if she hadn't gotten enough sleep but her mood was always infectiously bright. Then, one day, she invited Renee up to Greenhampton.

Renee hesitated. Years of superstition had built up inside her, with or without her belief in it. But Aahna was such a kind woman and Renee didn't think she had many other friends here. She agreed, and the next night her car rolled through the gates of Greenhampton House.

Immediately she knew she'd made a mistake.

The house was clean - certainly cleaner than any of the old pictures she'd seen of it. Aahna had obviously been doing a fine job with the restoration. But it seemed to be staring down at her. She unlocked her cell phone, thinking about texting Aahna that she's fallen ill, but then the front door opened and her host was there waving. There was a warmth there that seemed to subdue the fear of the house. She took a deep breath, and got out of her car.

The house seemed to be staring from all sides once she was inside. It felt omnipresent and malevolent. Or was it just her bias toward brick and wood? Could she be sure she wasn't just reacting to a quarter century of ghost stories? Besides, Aahna lived here every day and night, and she was fine. She was beautiful.

Renee found herself staring contentedly at her host as the woman set the table. Truth be told, she'd had a little crush on the woman since the first time she'd come in for paint. Now they were sharing a dinner together just the two of them. A candle was lit on the table and it did an admirable job of keeping the fear at bay.

The night carried on normally. Aahna was hold Renee's eye when they spoke and Renee would try not to blush. She would laugh and Aahna would laugh along. Stories were shared. Wine was drunk. And as the hour got later and later, Renee thought less and less about that tiny tickle in the back of her mind that said she was in danger.

Then she heard a whisper beside her ear. It almost sounded like it said "relax." Renee snapped her head around but there was no one there. Aahna asked if everything was okay, and Renee didn't answer immediately. The fear had returned. But Aahna stood and walked over the the chair next to Renee and took her hand.

"It's okay, sweetie," she said, looking into Renee's eyes. "The house makes noises. You get used to it."

Renee knew that hadn't been a rickety pipe or a loose floorboard. Wait. Had she called her "sweetie"? Her attention turned back to Aahna, who was lightly stroking her hand. "Just relax, Renee. There's no need to be afraid."

They looked deep into each other's eyes for a silent moment. Renee let herself be swallowed up by her host's gaze. "Relax," a voice said again, but this time Renee ignored it. She kept her attention on this beautiful woman before her. "Stare."

She felt a hand brush her arm and her leg. It must have been Aahna. There was no one else here. But without looking away from Aahna's deep and captivating eyes, she could only assume. The whisper beside her continued. "Sink." Hands on her thigh. Her breast. Her cheek. They couldn't all be hers. "Open." Renee slowly let her legs be pulled apart. The phantom touches reached under her dress and her drew breath as they probed inside her.

"Can you feel them?" Aahna asked.

"Yes," Renee answered simply, unaware of just how deeply entranced she had become.

"It's time to show them what you can give."

Renee stood, unblinking, and allowed the hands to pull her clothes away. She stood naked before her Mistress, who nodded approvingly.

"They think you'll do wonderfully. Let me show you to your room."

Continue the story with A House Calls.

#Tidal story #ghostship #fem dom #fem sub #brainwashing #hypno fantasy #hypno toy #hypnok1nk #hypnosis #hypnosub #hypnotic #mind conditioning

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calummss · 2 years

Text

Neymar Jr Drabble

masterlist

summary: cute domestic fic of dentistry student reader and neymar because why not

pairing: fem! reader x neymar jr

words: 650

a/n: i dont even keep up with neymar but i saw fans were starving in the ff compartment so i whipped this up. also who do you think will win the world cup?

It was a chilly December day as the midday’s light sprawled across your books that were piling up on the table. Every inch of wood covered with texts, essays, flashcards, books and tools for your study session. Occasionally chills raised goosebumps on your skin, layers of clothing and blankets not stopping the cold from affecting you. Yet you enjoyed days like these. As hard as studying was, the relaxation of being at home and enjoying your own comfort was unmatched. You were humming your favourite song as you copied the last of the page’s information on restorative dental work when you heard the doorknob followed by the swinging of the door that lead to your study space at the end of the hall so that you could focus better.

‘Decided to finally get up?’ You joked, your nose still stuck in your book paying no regard to the person that had walked in.

‘Mhmm,’ he hummed softly, the floorboard squeaking beneath his steps as he walked towards you.

Neymar’s arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling your back into his still warm chest, kissing your cheek repeatedly as you giggled. You patted his arm, turning around to kiss him properly.

‘You know, I’ve learned a lot of English since being with you,’ his deep voice sent vibrations down your spine.

‘Oh really?’

He spun your armchair around so that you were facing him. He lowered himself on his knees to be on your level, his warm eyes staring into yours.

‘It’s because of the lack of Portuguese you speak.’

‘I know,’ you protested with a pout, your hands finally letting go of your pen, reaching towards his face to cup it gently. ‘I know how to say some things though,’ you paused briefly, grinning at him. ‘Ainda me lembro do nosso primeiro beijo.’ [I still remember our first kiss.]

‘Oh meu deus [Oh my god],’ his face scrunched together the second you finished your sentence with a smile. A smile he so deeply loved. ‘That was so disgustingly corny yet adorable. Do it again.’

You could feel a warm flush on your cheeks as a small chuckle escaped your lips, ‘Ainda me lembro do nosso primeiro beijo.’ You repeated the same sentence slower, inching closer to his face as you spoke every word.

Heat arose from your stomach to your chest. His lips were getting closer and your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t the first kiss but his presence made you nervous like a little girl.

‘Seeing you sitting here like this makes me realise how much I love you and how attracted I am to you.’ He rested his forehead on yours, his eyes still carrying the sin from the previous night. ‘But the images of you bouncing on my cock last night are still driving me crazy,’

Your whole body tingled, the feeling of his frame leaning on yours, as his arms wrapped around you felt like a sin. His lips brushed against yours; softly, passionately. His hands cupped your face as his lips crashed into yours, lips plump and smooth against your own. His arms found themselves to your back, pulling you closer than was possible. You gently grabbed his jaw, slowly pulling away from the kiss, deep down not wanting to break apart from him.

‘Don’t distract me,’ you smiled at him, his face still in your hands.

‘I love that you are studying but technically you don’t have to. You know that, right? I’ve got you covered.’

‘Well I’m not like that,’ you snuck a quick kiss before twisting back the chair so you sat in front of your notes again. ‘Now leave. I have an exam coming up and if you want to be my future patient who’s satisfied with my service, you better leave me to study.’ You scolded.

‘Of course, Doctor.’

‘I love you.’

‘Eu te amo tanto.’ [I love you so much.]

#neymar #neymar jr #neymar imagines #neymar jr imagine #neymar headcanon #neymar fanfic #neymar x reader #neymar x you #neymar jr x reader #neymar jr x you #football imagine #champions league imagine #world cup #neymar jr fanfic #neymar imagine #neymar jr imagines #neymar fluff #neymar angst #neymar smut

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bookished · 3 months

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( a collection of starters. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post 💛 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips

The old, leather-bound journal was found hidden under the floorboards of the abandoned mansion. Its pages contained cryptic messages and a map that seemed to lead to something of great value—or danger.

In a world where the stars can be plucked from the sky and turned into powerful talismans, a young orphan discovers a constellation that has never been seen before. It points to a destiny that could change the fate of the entire realm.

During the height of the Renaissance, a young artist discovers a hidden chamber in the heart of Florence. Inside, she finds sketches of inventions far beyond her time and a letter addressed to her, written centuries ago.

Two strangers meet on a delayed train during a snowstorm on Christmas Eve. As they share stories to pass the time, they realize they have more in common than they ever imagined—and that fate might have brought them together for a reason.

In a small, isolated village, people start to vanish without a trace. The only clue left behind is a symbol carved into the doors of their homes, a mark that matches ancient legends of a vengeful spirit.

In a future where emotions are controlled by the government, a young woman discovers an underground movement that aims to restore true feelings to humanity. She must decide whether to join them or stay in the safety of her regulated life.

Every night, a small café in the city transforms into a magical place where time stands still and dreams come to life. Only a select few know about its existence, and one day, an ordinary person stumbles upon it by accident.

A high school student finds an old camera at a garage sale. When they develop the photos, they see glimpses of the future. Now, they must navigate high school life while trying to change events they know are coming.

"I don't believe in coincidences, especially not ones involving missing people."

"You mean to tell me you've never seen a dragon before? Where have you been living, under a rock?"

"The prophecy spoke of a hero, but I never imagined it would be someone like you."

"This isn't just a piece of space debris; it's a message."

"Our planet was destroyed. We're the last survivors, and we need your help."

"Do you really believe the king will pardon us if we find the lost treasure?"

"She's a woman in a man's world, but she'll change history, mark my words."

"I didn't come here to fall in love; I came to find myself."

"Every letter I wrote to you, I wrote with my heart in my hand."

"That house has been abandoned for years. Why would anyone go inside willingly?"

"The shadows in this place…they move when you're not looking."

"There's a map, but it's missing the most crucial part—the key to decoding it."

"I've been to the highest mountain and the deepest sea, but I've never seen anything like this."

"Freedom is an illusion they sold us to keep us compliant."

"We've been living in a lie. It's time we uncover the truth."

"Every night at midnight, the old clock shop comes alive. Haven't you ever noticed?"

"They say the forest spirits grant wishes, but only to those who ask with pure intentions."

"I found this old diary in the attic, and it’s like it’s talking directly to me."

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vittoriaisfuckingpathetic · 9 months

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RHODES POST-GAZETTE

MARCH 15, 1989 In a long-abandoned manor located deep within the swamps of Bayou Nwa, one amateur historian made a remarkable discovery. Underneath the floorboards, a satchel with a faded HM monogrammed into the leather was discovered. While a few items of interest were found, the photographs are perhaps the most important discovery. These images are believed to be photographs of the infamous Van der Linde gang shortly before their dissolution.

“If these pictures are indeed of the Van der Linde gang, they paint a picture of the gang’s day-to-day life,” historian Josephine Chǎtaney noted, “Oftentimes, we get so caught up in the infamy of the group that we forget that they, too, were in fact real people.”

The gang’s exploits were recorded in the firsthand account of John (Jack) Marston’s 1927 novel American Venom and later popularized by the 1959 film Red Dead Redemption starring John Wayne.

”I really think these pictures are of Dutch’s boys. I mean, these guys are legends. Honestly, I can’t believe I got lucky enough to find these.” the amateur historian — a man by the name of Ricky De Santa — went on to say.

The photos are currently under the care of the Blackwater Historical Society, undergoing restoration to be displayed in the Blackwater Museum.

John (Jack) Marston declined to comment on the photographs.

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lilith-little-world · 2 years

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Could you please write some domestic headcanons for reader and wukong? Love your story btw^^ (or more like the concept lol)

Awww thank you, I wanted to do a slight twist to the isekai trope that explains how the reader got transported to another world. Although, the reader is far from the only one. She just happens to survive the transmigration... Kind of. I'm honestly kind of excited to start writing the first chapter soon. It's going to be one hell of a ride.

Now to those domestic headcanons, hope there are no spelling errors, I manage to break my Grammarly keyboard every single time I write something-

(Don't you dare judge the quality I was rushing through so badly then I realized I forgot how to fucking draw. I'm going to post some art here, it's going to be meh quality just until I get used to drawing again.)

- At first, it took a good while for you guys to settle down in one place. With you enjoying the urban lifestyle. Since it made visiting shops, friends, and just having a fun day out way easier. Wukong prefers to be isolated, his only interactions being mostly with Mk and you. However, after Wukong complains for the 100th time, you move to Flower Fruit Mountain under the condition he takes you out every few days into the city and that your friends can come and visit every once in a while.

- Surprisingly, he tries to renovate and spruce things up. House feeling a little small? Want a room for your things specifically? He and his clones will start making preparations (Also maybe ask Mk and the gang for help on what exactly to do and if he's desperate enough, he'll ask DBK for some advice.) Slowly but surely, the once small hut becomes more home-like. Then when you're both satisfied, he'll move on making the pathway to the house to the entrance of the waterfall. Cleaning up any debris or rumble of pillars and crumbling murals of the past. It was by your constant nagging that he restores it, getting rid of vines and moss.

- Other than wandering around or chilling at the house you literally have nothing to do. As much as it was a nice thought of spending most of the day doing your hobby, you physically don't have enough willpower to do it every day. One day while laying around, you noticed how dusty and unorganized the house truly was. So that is how you got stuck with cleaning and keeping things organized. Yet that didn't stop there, you noticed small things like a creaky loose floorboard. That you managed to fix after searching for how to on your phone. The sink isn't draining properly, drain cleaner is already on the need-to-buy list. The problem still not solve, time to put in some elbow grease and hope you won't get too dirty.

- However, you're definitely not touching his little hoard that he has been collecting over the centuries. The last thing you want is to release some ancient curse or break something that was once important.

- He can't cook, don't even try to make him, you don't want another fire, so get that cookbook open and pray you made something edible. Over the months you had gotten better, but there's much to improve. Yet, complete failure or not, Wukong still tries it out since he is immortal, it won't kill him, and the last thing he wants is for you to get seriously sick from food poisoning. If the food was not edible, then he's either going to get takeout or you both are going out to eat, give him a few minutes to throw up the abomination you created out his stomach.

- It's only fair that he washes the dishes. You make breakfast, lunch, and dinner, it's the least he can do. (That's if he still suffers from food poisoning, it's your turn to wash the dishes.) He picks up around the kitchen, any produce you left out back in the fridge. Spices in the cupboard in their usual spots. He knows you do a lot around the house, so it's now his turn to help.

- There's one chore you both do together, it's washing and putting the clothes away. You separate the clothing in their respective pile, while Wukong loads the washer. Whoever hears the washer finishes, loads the dryer, (cough you cough). Then when the loads are done, you guys come together and fold the clothes. While watching tv to pass the time. Although Wukong likes to make a big scene whenever he grabs your underwear or bra, it was only natural that you do the same with his boxers. You guys now know each other's undergarments and clothes sizes after that. Well, it makes shopping easier.

- Wukong kept his word and takes you to the city, and if you want a vacation away from the mountain. He got a temple ready to stay at and landmarks to show you. Over the years, he saw many things and wants to show you all of them. He never liked big crowds, so going to festivals was never his thing until he finds out you enjoy it. Well, looks like he's hanging out with the gang in the city, yaaay... Just make sure you're beside him for a good portion of the time there.

- He was a little hesitant about inviting the gang to the house, but he couldn't say no to both the student that he considers like his own son, Mk and his darling lover, the love of his life, you. In all honestly, Mk and you had already planned a day to bring the group over, and you guys decided to tell him last minute. Even though he would like a heads up, so he can reject the idea, strangely the simian doesn't mind. He had nearly forgotten that the mountain could feel so... warm and lively.

- Just be warned now that he has you beside him 24/7, this touch-starved monkey will be cuddling and kissing you, the first chance he gets. Don't fall for his tricks, he's a sneaky one.

- You made a small habit to groom his fur. Running your fingers through, him relaxing within your hold. If there's a comb or brush, you will get out any tangles or knots. His fur is now soft and fluffy and he is ready for pets and cuddles. You like to spoil him once in while.

- You guys hardly argue or fight, there was a time you even feared that the honeymoon phase will be over and then reality will hit. Yet it hasn't, maybe because Wukong is actually trying to be a better person so he can stay by your side. Also, he saw you angry once and he will do anything not to get on your bad side... again. Wukong tries to get your thoughts first and asks for people's advice, though he still has trouble speaking his ideas or thoughts. Being alone for centuries will do a lot of damage to a person’s psyche.

- So things are pretty peaceful, Wukong is opening up more and you managed to have a happy life despite the odds being against you. Now it's time to answer the question, will you become immortal and join Wukong for eternity, or prolonged/have your regular human lifespan? Sadly, Wukong wouldn't be able to handle your death. It will take all of his last remaining time to ever move on...

Wait a minute-

#lmk reader #lmk sun wukong #lmk monkey king #lmk x reader #lmk x y/n #lmk oneshot #sun wukong #sun wukong x reader #lmk #lmk y/n #domestic headcanons #lmk headcanon #x reader headcanons #lmk sun wukong x reader #monkey king x reader

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libraryofbronze · 6 months

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Smut Idea: A woman moves to a secluded home to live with two male roommates far away from sociey as a live in sex toy in order to fulfill all of their sexual fantasies. Everyday and night she is fucked in a new way, leaving her pussy and body unimaginablly red, sore, and stretched. She is their personal whore and nearly constantly in use by one or the other or both or a vast array of fucking toys and tools.

Lyan could hardly remember what it had been like to be a normal girl. It felt like a lifetime ago, like a fading shadow cast by the flickering flames of a dying campfire. Soon to be extinguished by the coming dawn,

There was a cock inside of her. She was bent over, her breasts pressed into the wooden wall of the old house. Her hardened nipples tingled and jolted, each thrusting pressing her against the solid wood. It felt heavenly, the cock was hard and big, filling her up until tears spilled from her eyes. Her pussy hugged it, gripping it tightly even as pleasure roared through her like a torrent. Each thrust, each motion, each grinding penetration filled her mind with fire and cast those early days even more deeply into shadow.

She hadn’t always been such a cock-slut. She hadn’t always been a soaking, dripping mess of a woman. A toy reduced to her most primal functions, her only purpose to serve and please her betters.

No, that was not how she had started life.

Lyan yelped, a crackling orgasm spun through her nubile body. Her pussy twitched, and her master gave a grunt of satisfaction. He filled her up, his seed pouring into her pussy with a flood of heat and warmth. As he pulled out, she sank to her knees. Her chest heaved, rising and falling. Her eyes were wide, her auburn hair in a tangled mess.

“Better get back to the dishes,” the man chuckled. “When Robert gets back, you’ll be punished if they’re not done. And you know we hate to punish you.”

She felt him sweeping from the room, heard the groaning of old floorboards under his weight. Just like that, she’d been used, fucked, filled and left.

Lyan knelt on the floor, her body trembling. Slowly, she ran one hand between her legs. Her labia were a little swollen. She’d been used a lot lately. A tingle of pain marked the contact. As Jason’s seed dripped from her lower lips, she noted she’d have to beg for a break soon.

Jason and Robert were good about giving her breaks when she needed them. They’d fuck her in the ass for a few days and give her time to recover. Lyan pulled herself to her feet. Her legs were still shaking, little sparks of ecstasy danced across her calves and thighs, and she had to lean against the wall, panting and groaning until she was able to stagger back over towards the half-finished dishes. The soapy water had now grown cold, but there was always plenty of power to heat more.

Running out of money was not a thing that either Robert or Jason had to fear. She didn’t know exactly what they did, but they were rich. Richer than rich, really. The kind of people who were so wealthy they didn’t need to flaunt it. They didn’t like to show off. They wore normal clothes and drove practical, rugged cars. They didn’t boast or brag and they certainly never made a big thing of it.

In fact, the only concession to their wealth was the house itself. It was old, a rebuilt farmhouse from the century prior. A forest had grown up around it, enveloping it slowly over time. The two of them had taken it as a personal project, restoring it and stocking it with the very finest of everything. Yes, it was miles and miles from the nearest civilization but when it had literally anything you could ever want on offer, who cared about the drive?

And ‘’anything’’ of course, included Lyan.

When the dishes were done and put away, she went to report to Jason. He was sitting comfortably in the living room, tucked up against a table upon which there sat an expensive-looking laptop. He didn’t spare her a look, and she figured he was probably doing something important. Playing the stocks? Racing horses? Hunting humans for sport?

Lyan realised she really didn’t know what he did for fun.

Besides her, of course.

“The dishes are done, sir,” she took on an appropriately servile tone. Sometimes, she liked to tease. To bait, to taunt them into punishing her. it was always fun when that happened.

She remembered one time she’d done something particularly bad. They had tied her hands above her head, draping them from a hanging rafter. Robert had taken the hot wax to her body, splashing it across her pale skin with quick, sudden motions. Lyan had whimpered, jumping with each searing pinprick. The feeling had been so intense, so quick. When the hot wax had curled about her left nipple, she’d let out a howling cry, but that was nothing to what she felt when Robert intentionally let a bead of it touch her glistening clitoris.

Oh, how she’d shook! How she’d shivered! She’d been begging for forgiveness by then. Her body clenching, her pussy hot and tight and wet.

They had taken turns fucking her for the rest of the night. First in the pussy, then in the ass. Just when both men were spent and she was sure it was finally over, Jason had revealed that he’d brought in a new shipment of toys. A crate - a whole fucking crate - was waiting to torment her until the dawn.

By the end, she’d been dripping, ruined, a total mess on her hands and knees begging her masters for forgiveness.

In the present, Lyan gave a little moan. Her pussy throbbed, a wave of tightness expanded between her legs. The idea of invoking another punishment was tempting…

But she was already aching. She had to pace herself. That was part of The Agreement.

The agreement. Yes. How long ago had that been? Another life, surely? It felt like it had happened to another girl. A normal girl. A girl still in college. A girl who had to worry about qualifications, about jobs, about a future which was so uncertain.

What would that Lyan think now if she could only see her future self?

“You’d best be ready to go the full way if you’re going to start playing with yourself, slut.”

Lyan’s face coloured. She’d gotten too caught up in the past! Her fingers had started to work the bud of her clit, teasing it with delicate touches and feathery caresses as she remembered her past punishments.

“S-sorry sir,” she said. “I can’t help myself….”

“You are forgiven,” Jason waved a magnanimous hand. “It’s what we made you, after all.”

It was true. That was what they had made her. What she had let them make her.

The agreement, an offer of damnation that seemed to spring from her deepest desires. Total submission. Free use, surrender. Her body would no longer be her own. She would cede control to these men, allow them to use her in every way. To fuck her, to humiliate her, to tease her and torment her.

And she loved it all. She lived for it. At twenty-one years old, Lyan was a professional slut. A free-use whore for her owners and any guests that they chose to bring to the small, isolated house. She’d had more sex in the last year than most women had in three. She was trained, submissive, degraded and humiliated.

And she loved every second of it.

#bronzeplacewriter #bd/sm kink #bd/sm community #bd/sm dynamic #sexywriting #cnc k!nk #original fiction #r@pe fantasy #bd/sm blog #bronze's short #ask bronze

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drowning-in-cacophony · 19 days

Text

gentle like a wave

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt 269: Living Weapon

[Summary: it's not as easy as thought to use this weapon]

“Bloody hell,” one of the men breathe, bug eyed and gaping. She sighs and places down her shears – her flower dead-heading is clearly a job that’s going to have to wait for another day.

They’d burst through the waterfall with gleaming guns and preposterous postures. The same story, then, and she reads that truth in the leader’s eyes as he blusters his way forward, a demand already tracing the shape of his lips. There’s an ugly-looking moustache quivering above his upper lip. She crosses her legs, tucking her ankles neatly away, backed against her latest crop of flowers. Sitting down, she’s found, puts them on the back foot constantly. They expect one image; have no idea what to do with what she gives them.

They’re all clearly shocked by what they’ve discovered here. What story was it this time? A push through the water and there would lie a sword, enchanted beyond all measure. Splash droplets from hair and wrap a hand around the greatest machine gun in history. Wipe eyes and find a bomb that’d end all wars. The leader – a commander, by the badge on his lapel – has begun to put together the pieces. Behind the water, behind all the strife to get here, and you’ll find a weapon. And well, it’s not bloody likely to just be her shears now, is it?

“On behalf of the United Squadrons, I am requesting your use,” the Commander says, wobbling himself to his full height. She presses fingertips against the seam of her trousers.

“That’s not how we do things here, Commander,” she says flatly, and continues before she has to listen to any bluster. “Tell me what you want.”

His eyes water. At his side, his hand flexes, though the handgun tucked in his holster remains sheathed. She hopes it stays that way: threatening their way to what they want never works out well. “You are the thing we’re looking for?”

How am I meant to know if you won’t tell me what it is? But it’s obvious, since no-one other than old Nana ever comes here for other means, so she gives him a gentle incline to blow his heartbeat wild. A bead of sweat hangs like a pearl, suspended at his temple.

“Then you must understand,” he begins, quick-paced, a little sanctimonious. “There is a war going on out there and-”

“No. I said tell me what you want. Not what’s going on.”

The man blinks. Behind him, his soldiers too. She sees the nervous licks of their lips, the hungry ones too. How long have they travelled to find her? There’s a hollow sort of look to their cheeks, but then she finds the soldiers often do end up concaved in face. Cheeks first, then the skulls. Once, such a man had stumbled in here and died before he could even tell her anything. His broken skull, along with his better condition bones, lie underneath the oak tree some stone throw’s away.

At least, despite the blinking, he gets to the point. “I want your power.”

“To?”

“To-? To destroy the enemy, of course! To bring justice to the land, to restore order, to-”

“No.” She nods to herself. “Next.”

The Commander stares at her, mouth hanging open. It’s quite an unseemly look to the man, so she glances to the man hovering a few steps behind. Maybe he’s the next-in-command, standing slightly closer to denote that; mostly, she just finds the next face she can. One hand reaching up, she beckons him forward with a twitch of her fingers, a raise of her brow when his step falters. His eyes dart to his Commander, uncertainty spoiling blue eyes like a damn rainstorm.

“What do you mean next?” the Commander blurts out with, cheeks going steadily red. “Didn’t you listen to me? I said-”

“I heard.” Her tone creaks, an old floorboard in distaste. “I’m not convinced by you.”

“Not convinced? Lady, do you know who you are talking to?”

She blinks, once. “Next. I won’t ask again. Either it’s next, or you’ll all leave.”

“We most certainly will not, not until you have-”

“Remember what you have come for.” Her voice now is gentle, in the way the sea goes before a massive wave rushes in to sweep a land clear. The Commander freezes, a man well acquainted with the gentle sort of danger. His throat throbs, a pulse she can see, easy enough to rip out. His eyes bulge, fish-like; she watches his thoughts go through him like the water from the waterfall.

There is this: the Commander might be the sort she doesn’t deal with, but he knows when to step back.

Stiffly, mind you, with his own distaste echoing around his face, loud as a church’s bell. Bewildered for a moment, his second is left standing on the precipice. There is a space to be filled, and she waits with expectation.

This second man takes a deep breath and a small step forward. His gun, which had been mostly lowered from the moment they’d all locked eyes with her, goes completely slack to his side. She reads his threading nerves, pounding a sickening drumbeat behind his skin.

“Tell me what you want,” she says.

The man exhales, a gust of wind to graze her cheek. “I want you to help us free the people.”

She says nothing. The gap in which to be filled, and he does not disappoint in understanding the intention. Cautious words, stalking a deer through a crispy field, he keeps on speaking.

“They suffer under a regime. I don’t know if what we intend will be better – I can’t predict it – but I know I want to try and make a place better than what it is. I want to improve things, for them.”

She taps her fingertips against the seam. “Thank you for your inquiry,” she says, and purses her lips. The man understands this too, bowing his head and waiting in silence, even as his Commander makes a few huffing noises somewhere behind him. She flexes her other hand, fingers weary already.

But this is how the agreement must go. They can ask, and if they give her an answer that meets her requirements, then she has to say yes, weariness or not.

A weapon cannot be too tired to fire, after all.

She raises her head, and gives him the answer.

#flash friday fiction #flash fiction #writeblr #short story #anna's writing #word count: 1066 #I had to cut this off more abruptly than I'd planned #because apparently I'd gotten so into this I'd written too much over the 1k #like how this ends anyway!

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fancyfeathers · 4 days

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A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes

(Yandere!Albert James Moriarty x Cinderella!Reader)

(Tw//mental abuse, physical abuse, death/murder) A/N- I like this, but I feel like I could have done better, like I did not want it to drag on but I feel like it could have been better with a wedding at the end but that would have been too long with the world limit I set for myself since I have other projects I need to work on)

Once upon a time there was a girl, and she saw the world not always as it was but perhaps how it could be with just a little bit of magic. To her mother and father she was a princess, true she had no title like that of the ones her parents held, nor crown, nor castle, but she was the ruler of her own little kingdom whose borders were the houses and land her family had lived in for generations.

Her father was a Baron and diplomat for the British Crown who went abroad and brought all sorts of treasures back from all sorts of countries for his little girl. (Name) missed him terribly when he was away but she knew he would always return.

All was just as it should be, they knew themselves as one of the happiest families to live as they did and love each other so, but sorrow can come to any kingdom, no matter how happy and so it came to (Name’s) home.

(Name) remembers the day her father took into the room as her mother lay there dying, and she will never forget how her mother took her hands in her own and spoke to her those last words…

“I want to tell you a secret, a great secret that will see you through all the trials that life can offer. You must always remember this, have courage and be kind. You have more kindness in your little finger than most people do in their whole body, and it has power, more than you know, and magic. Have courage and be kind, my darling. Will you promise me?”

“I promise.”

Time passed and pain turned to memory. In her heart (Name) stayed the same, for she remembered her promise to her mother, have courage and be kind. Her father however was much changed but he hoped for the better times. He had a good heart and when one of his colleagues had passed on, he took pity upon the window and her daughter and took her as his wife, giving his daughter a step mother and two step sisters.

Her stepmother-to-be was a woman of keen feeling and refined taste. And she, too, had known grief, but she wore it wonderfully well. Her stepmother, high-spirited lady that she was, set out to restore life and laughter to the house. (Name)’s great comfort were the letters that Father would send from his travels. The weeks away lengthened to months, but every day would bring his thoughts from some distant part. Until late one afternoon when her father’s secretary returned but not her father, and he bore news of the loss of the one person (Name) cherished more than anyone, her father had caught an illness while in Madrid and had passed on in the night.

Her stepmother and stepsisters ever abused her. And by and by they considered (Name) less a sister than a servant. And so (Name) was left to do all the work, this was a good thing, for it distracted her from her grief, at least that was what her stepmother said, and she and her two daughters were more than happy to provide (Name) with lots and lots of distraction. In their defense, they did share with her the very food they ate, or rather, the scraps from their table. She had little in the way of friends, well, her friends were very little, being the few maids and housekeeping staff they kept along with the mice who shared her bedroom, and by bedroom it was the attic, (Name) had her room forcibly given to her stepsisters. The room was cold with a draft that would be horrible in the winter, the floorboards were old and the gaps between them were practically dangerous and they threatened to break under any more weight. But those friends she had, she treated with an open heart and an open hand. Sometimes, by the end of the day, the drafty attic was too cold to spend the night in, so she lay by the dying embers of the hearth to keep warm.

Now her stepmother did not always deny her stepdaughter her noble birth, for she certainly tried to marry her off as soon as possible so that she is out of sight and out of mind, not even caring if her suitors are kind or not, her stepmother really only caring about how deep their pockets are to secure their dwindling wealth in the death of (Name’s) father. But no suitor wanted to marry a girl who was rarely allowed to leave the house, she was a stranger to society and would always be one as long as she lived the life of a servant.

And of a sudden, it seemed to her that her stepmother and stepsisters had indeed transformed her into merely a creature of ash and toil.

“Miss (Name) dear, would you be able to help me with brewing the tea?” Adelaide, the housekeeper of the estate asked you across the kitchen as you finished washing down the plates from breakfast, she was your mother’s lady’s maid before her passing. Adelaide was a very kind and charitable woman, sometimes it felt as if you did not deserve her, especially when the staff were the only ones who still addressed you as if you were actually a lady of the house like you once were. She had beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes that complemented the forget-me-nots that the gardener, Seraphina, grew out back in the garden that your mother insisted upon before her passing. “Or perhaps would you like to accompany Seraphina to the market?”

“Truly? But my stepmother-“

“To hell with what she thinks, go and have a bit of fun.” Adelaide waved you off with a smile and held her hand out to you as you slipped off your apron to toss to her which she caught and threw onto the hooks where the servants coats and aprons hung upon, along with your own. “I will deal with that wench, now get before one of them spots you.”

“Thank you.”

“Hush, now go.”

Without needing to be told another word you ran out the back door that the servants took to come in every day and rushed down the garden path was always kept in fine order by Seraphina, she was also a quite beautiful young lady like yourself, long brown hair and eyes and her skin was covered in speckles of freckles. You reached the back gates just in time as Seraphina was opening the gate, getting ready to leave as you rushed down the garden path in order to catch up to her.

“Seraphina, wait for me!” you called out to her which caught the gardener’s attention and her expression turned from an expression with a tad bit of confusion at her name being called to a smile when she spotted that it was you calling her name and chasing after her.she stood in the gateway, holding it open for you as you rushed to reach her side, only closing it as you resumed walking by one another’s side, her linking her arm with your own.

“Good to see that you get out of that house at last, my lady.” She spoke as you came to rest your head on her shoulder, not realizing that ash and cinders still lingered there from when you slept on the kitchen ground by the fire the night prior inorder to stay warm. “I believe the last time you left was…”

“When my stepmother and stepsisters took their leave to our country home.” You responded to her, finishing her statement, taking the words right from her mouth. Seraphina scoffed at the mention of such a thing, rolling her eyes and pulling you tighter to her side. "Now why are you upset with them this time?”

“It is your country home, my lady. I know your late father would wish for you to have it.” You began to make your way into the London high society streets with one another, but not a person recognized you as the late baron’s daughter for much of the aristocracy have not seen you much as a lady since his passing as you were dressed as a servant and not a lady. “They go up there and act as if it was theirs when I remember you as a little girl playing in the garden and meadows with me when I was just a girl and learning my mother’s trade as a gardener-”

“And what a fine gardener you make, you grow the most beautiful peonies anyone has ever seen-”

“My lady, please do not change the topic- but thank you nonetheless.” You smiled as she cut herself off just to thank you. She sighed as you picked your head up off her shoulder, both of you turning to look at one another in the eyes which drew small laughs from the both of you. “I hope you know that the only reason any of us stay and work for that witch you call your stepmother is because of you, it would be cruel to leave someone as pure as you with someone as wicked as her. Perhaps it would not be such a bad thing if the Lord of Crime but an end to the dowager baroness, she does not deserve that title like your mother did.”

“My father and mother would not wish ill on anyone and you know that, so please do not do that either.” You scolded her and a regretful look came across her face as you spoke. You knew of the so called Lord of Crime and his deads of ending the corrupt nobles of the British Empire, you honestly felt bad for whomever it is, to have so much hate and rage in their heart to end the lives of others, no matter the reason you could not stand it, change could come about through many means and death did not have to be one them. “I am sure that one day something will touch their hearts and change them and if they do not… Well then I will keep my promise to my mother.”

“Have courage and be kind?” She responded with a small and breathy laugh which faded into a sigh. “You already have done so much to keep that promise and have received nothing in return.”

“That is not quite true, after all I have you along with the others, Adelaide and Edmund.” Carriages rolled past you as you reached the crowded streets, finer shops that catered more to the higher classes, tailors and fabric shops, watchmakers, jewelers, expensive fruits and produce stalls line the sidewalks that separate the carriages from the people who chose to walk. Now Edmund was your late father’s secretary who also acted as your tutor as a child and he was just a young man who had just graduated university. His lessons were perhaps a bit unorthodox, teaching you about the world's cycle of life by taking you horseback riding through the meadow and creek stomping in the forest in your family’s country home. He now acted as the manager of your family’s finances, but you often slipped into his office to avoid your stepmother and stepsisters. “You certainly are my family, and that is what truly matters to me.”

“Yes but you need to have a future, you certainly cannot be a servant forever.” You stood at the corner of the street and she took your hands in her own, the basket that hung on her arm slipped down to where your hands met. She looked you dead in the eye as she spoke to you, exactly how your mother did. “You are the daughter of a baron and ambassador, you are a true blue blood and when I say that I mean you actually deserve everything that comes with it, the title, the land, the money, because you have a good heart and know how to do the job properly that most of them neglect, you would be a perfect lady of the house just like your mother was.”

“Most people I knew as a child think I either died with my father or am off at some finishing school in… where did my stepmother tell the Duke of York I was?”

“Marseille, a city in southern France.” she sighed as she answered your question. “I nearly stabbed her eyes out with a spoon when she told him that at tea.”

“Leave her be, besides no one would care if I was there in Marseille no more than they would care if I was a servant girl living here in London.”

“I am sure some would.”

—————————

You both returned to the house from your errands, and as soon as you stepped into the back door into the kitchen you both spotted Adelaide pacing the floor as if she was about to have a nervous breakdown. When she spotted you two she let out a loud sigh of relief as you set down the basket full of the groceries.

“What is the matter, Adelaide-”

“Your stepmother, she needs to speak to you.” your heart sank when you heard those words, normally she never wanted to speak to you, rather she would demand things of you, the last time she actually spoke to you was when your father died and there would be a few changes to the house. Adelaide strutted up to you and pulled out her handkerchief and whipped the ash and cinders that lingered on your cheek, trying to make you look somewhat presentable.”Best run along now, she does not like to be kept waiting, my lady.”

“Thank you.” You stepped past her and you glanced back at Adelaide and Seraphina where they stood and forced a smile before turning back to walk to the drawing room where you knew your stepmother would be waiting for you.

You indeed spotted her there, sitting in your father’s old armchair that is right next to your mother’s old chair and you remembered when you would sit on the carpet next to them while your mother read to you every night before bed as a child. She sat there with a glass of red wine in her left hand and a letter in her right. She glanced at you when she heard your footsteps and forced an almost out of character, kind, smile, it was rather unsettling to see. She set the glass of wine down on the side table between the old chairs, and patted the footstool next to the chair she sat on, gesturing for you to sit next to her as if you were actually her child. “Come, sit with me darling, I have wonderful news.”

Without any ground to stand on or refuse her, so you did so, hesitantly sitting on the footstool, facing her. You watched as she set the letter down on the side table as well and picked up a hair brush that rested there and she reached out a hand to take locks of your hair in her grasp and began brushing through them which somehow made you feel even more tense.

“What is it, stepmother?” You asked her, side eying where the brush made contact with your collarbone as it combed through your hair. She hummed as she continued to smile down at you, brushing through your hair.

“You are coming of age and I think it is about high time you enter society, there is a ball tonight and we have received an invitation, you shall attend with us.” Your heart skipped a beat when your stepmother said those words, a ball, you have only attended ball your father and mother had thrown when you were a child, but of course you were just a girl then and were suppose to be in bed but your father could not help but spoiling you with a dance and pastries from the desert table while he showed you off, his precious little princess, to his and your mother’s friends. But of course with your stepmother you should never expect the good.”After all I am sure we will be able to find you a husband there, an arrangement should be made with a gentleman there within the week.”

You wanted to speak up and say something but you should not, frightened to break the very promise you made to your mother. Your stepmother saw the hesitation in your eyes and with her free hand, she reached under your chin to tilt your head up to look at her. “Is something wrong, my dear?”

“No stepmother.”

“Good girl, you will make a fine bride with that poilite mouth of yours.” She smiled at you and set the brush aside and shooed you stand up with her other hand. You stood up as your left hand came up to trace the scratches that the brush left upon your collarbone. “Now run along, I suppose you have to get ready.”

“But…”

“Speak up, my dear.” You flinched at your stepmother’s harsh words, scared she would hit you for stuttering and muttering like so.

“I have nothing to wear.” It was true, your clothing was nothing but that of a servant’s dress, nothing fit for that of a ball. “I-” “I am sure you could wear those old things in storage, those will work fine for now.” You knew exactly what she was speaking of, the dresses that were tucked away in a closet that belonged to your mother and grandmother, you remembered when they wore them at many parties when they were alive and you were a mere girl. Your stepmother picked up her wine glass and took a rather large gulp of the red wine within before resuming her words to you. “Your future husband can provide you with a new wardrobe to his tastes once you marry him. Now run along.”

“Yes, stepmother.”

—————————

You watch as Edmund pulled the large truck from the closet attic with a heavy heave, yanking from where it sat for years collecting dust. Edmund was a smart looking man, not looking much different than he did when he was a younger man the only difference being that he was now in his late thirties, almost forty, dark brown hair, with blue eyes and glasses that hung on the bridge of his nose. You all were gathered around the trunk, Adelaide, Seraphina, and you all longing to see what was inside as Edmund pulled the lid up from the trunk. Inside it was indeed only dressed but with age comes a certain state of disrepair, you would be mocked and ridiculed for wearing such things in public. Seraphina was the first to set up the trunk, pulling out a royal blue dress, a long and flowing skirt and it was quite lovely if the sleeves did not need to be replaced as the stitches were ripping. You remember your mother wearing it at a ball once, it was when you were around seven and you remembered how incredibly charming she looked in it and you remember her works echoing in your mind…

“One day this dress will belong to you, my little love.”

It was just a shame that it had fallen into this state.

You watched as Seraphina took the dress and rushed up behind you, her chest pressing up against your back as she rested her chin on your shoulder and swept her arms around your body to hold the dress up to you in order to get a picture of how you look when you actually wear it tonight. You could feel her smile behind you as Adelaide and Edmund looked you over. “What do you two think, I think it would look rather lovely on her with a few repairs.”

“She will look exactly like her mother.” Edmund spoke in response to the youngest member of the staff. He glanced at Adelaide and then back at Seraphina and you before pulling a notepad and pen from his coat pocket, scribbling down a thing or two to make a short list while addressing the other two staff members. “I will need you two to pick a few things up while I begin work on fitting and repairing this for tonight, I have a few pounds in my office you may use-”

“Edmund, I could not possibly ask you to use your own money on me-”

“My lady, you do not have to ask, this is my gift to you.” As Seraphina slipped the dress away from you and laid it across the old bedframe and mattress that you called your bed, Edmund came forward and rested his hands on your arms, just below your shoulders and leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead like he always had done since you were a child. He pulled back to look at you with a melancholy just adoring expression. “I intend to repay the debt to your parents from when they took me in by always taking care of you, this is the least I can do after everything you and your parents have done for me.”

“You are far too kind, Edmund.”

“Only because I learned from you.” he reached out and patted your cheek like a doting parent would before spinning about and shooing off Seraphina and Adelaide. “Off you pop, we have much to do and very little time in order to make this diamond shine.”

You watched as the other two ladies scurried out of the room much like little mice would when being chased by a housecat. As the door to the attic closed behind them your gazed turned from where they were to where Edmund was, picking up the dress with one hand and waving you over with the other.

“I asked them to fetch proper undergarments for a ball gown such as this, but for a fitting what you are wearing now will do just fine.” Edmund slipped over the ballgown over your head, pulling it down your body as you slipped your arms through the sleeves which were in a desperate need of repair. It really did fit quite nicely, only really needing to be brought in at the back and the sleeves needed to be replaced but it was nothing Edmund could not fix. “I have been mending gowns for those two stepsisters of yours for far too long a time that this is certainly a fine change in pace.”

Edmund grabbed the old leather case that acted as his sewing kit, a gift from his own father and mother. He clicked it open after he set it on your bed and honestly you feared that it may fall apart any night that you fell asleep upon it. He took a pair of scissors out from the box before walking over to you, slippin his finger underneath the fabric to act as a barrier so that he does not accidentally nick your skin while cutting away the sleeves of the dress in order to replace them. “I remember when I first met your father, I was no older than seventeen and working in my father’s shop as an apprentice tailor. Your father came in to have his suit fitted and he told my father after I was finished that he had never seen such a mind as mine, and then within the week he sponsored my education so I could attend university as long as I would visit him from time to time so he could see my progress. Your father saw the best in everyone, they merely needed a push to reach their full potential.”

“You knew my father quite well Edmund, do you know how my father and mother met?” The question was genuine, you did not know how your parents met. When you would ask your mother as a little girl she would merely smile and pat your head and tell you that their meeting was like that of a fairytale come true, just like how all little girls dream. “Surely you must since they wed when you were in school.”

“I do, I was there in fact.” He spoke to you as he continued to snip away at the fabric of the sleeves ever so carefully. As he worked and spoke you noticed his glasses slipping down his nose so you reached out your hand to carefully push the frame back up his face which made him let out a breathy laugh from him. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Now would you please tell me.” you pleaded with him and he sighed and finally nodded at your request.

“Your mother wished to tell you when you had made a match yourself, but I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell you. Your mother was no lady as one would guess, she was a servant girl, her parents had borrowed money in order to take care of her, but when they died she fell into the debt that they had and she was an indentured servant to a dowager countess and her family since she was a child. In her time working for the family she had become friends with the daughter of the dowager and one day the daughter dressed up her friend and brought her along to a ball, just like how your father brought me along to that same ball.” The story Edmund told rang loudly in your ears, every single word. You had no idea of your mother’s humble beginnings, she always seemed like a true lady of the nobility, but you supposed that it washer destiny to become a lady one day. “Your father did not know who she was but he knew he loved her the moment he laid eyes on her, he knew that she was her soulmate and I believe your mother knew the same. They danced the night away, but your mother had to leave before the dowager knew she was gone, but as she ran she lost one of her slippers and that is how your father found her. He went to every house to find her, with only that one shoe to go off of and he eventually did find her, he paid off your mother’s debt and took her as his wife and then they had you.”

You truly did not know what to say in response to Edmund’s tale, your lips fell agape and you could only stare off as all the thoughts and words of such a tale echoed in your mind. You wanted to say something, anything really, but no lips left your mouth when you tried to speak, but instead there was a rather loud shrieking voice coming from downstairs that was addressing you.

“(Name)!”

You sighed when you heard the voice of one of your stepsisters yelling your name in her rather unpleasant voice. Your stepmother tried to dress her daughters in eye-catching and trending fashions, but nothing would be able to hide or take away from their sneers. You saw Edmund roll his eyes as he knew you would always be at their beck and call.

“I will be right back, Edmund.” You slipped off the dress and handed it back to Edmund before running to deal with whatever your sisters may need. You rushed downstairs from the attic and down to their bedroom which used to be your own, the first door on the right. You pushed open the door and you saw them both in their undergarments, clearly getting ready for the festivities this evening. The elder of the two, Beatrice, was standing in front of the mirror and she was no doubt the one who called you judging by the unlaced corset she had on. She snapped her fingers at seeing your reflection in the mirror behind her, silently telling you to get to work. You did not waste another moment, coming up right behind her and grabbing the corset ribbon on the iron bed frame. Your fingers made quick work of lacing the ribbon through the hoops of the corset, you gave it a firm tug to keep everything in place…

“Tighter.”

You carefully gave it another pull…

“Tighter.”

You pulled the ribbon even tighter…

“Tighter.”

This cannot be comfortable…

“Tighter.”

You pulled it one last time with a harsh tug and your stepsister, Beatrice, gave a harsh gasp. Before you could even process anything, she spun around and struck you across the face, turning your head about from the force. You could feel the tears pricking up in the corners of your eyes as the red imprint of a hand formed on your cheek

“Not that tight, clod.” There was a long moment of silence before you heard both of your stepsisters cackling like witches. You could only pick yourself off of the ground as your stepsister waved you off.

You forced your legs to walk upstairs, pushing the door to your attic and your bedroom open once again and there you spotted Edmun sitting on your bed, dress in hand. His eyes shot up to you who stood in the doorway, his face filled with pity at the sight of your red and crying face. You just merely made it to his side when you fell into his arms, a crying mess.

“You never deserved this.” —————————

You had other chores to tend to in the day, having to leave the care of your mother’s dress to Edmund. Seraphina and Adelaide had returned, bringing Edmund what he requested, though you did not see the fabric and other little trinkets and baubles they had bought with Edmund’s coin. You had helped your stepmother and stepsisters get ready after Beatrice’s outburst at you, but you had not gotten ready yourself for you had not have the time and Edmund was not ready with the dress, and whenever you tried to take a peek into your bedroom where he was working he would shoo you away and lock you out of your own bedroom.

So now you find yourself in the drawing room, cleaning up after the tea your stepmother and stepsisters had. You stacked up the empty tea cups and plates that were covered in crumbs from the sweets. You could spot your stepsister and stepmother in the entryway, all ready to leave but you were still in your stained dress that you had been wearing all day.

“(Name), you cannot possibly think of wearing that to the ball.”

“What a joke.”

“There is no way any man would wish to marry her.”

You heard the snickers of your stepsisters as you stood up, carrying the tray that is full of empty dishes. As you walked into the front entryway to drop off the dishes in the kitchen, your stepmother grabbed you by the arm, stopping you from walking any further. You looked up at her and she looked down at you with a cruel look in her eye.

“It is time for us to be off, I suppose you will have to stay here.” your stepmother’s words made your heart sink and felt as if the only thing you had looking forward to had been snatched away from you, well that is exactly what has happened. “I am sure I will manage to make a proper arrangement for a marriage for you.”

“Yes… stepmother.” You could only manage those two simple words as she let go of your arms, letting you walk off back to the kitchen. You could merely watch from the corner of your eye as your stepmother and stepsisters slipped out the front door which closed behind them with a loud slam. You wandered back to the kitchen, setting the tray down on the table before closing your eyes and bracing yourself against the wooden surface to calm yourself and take deep breaths.

You nearly screamed as you felt Seraphina’s hands come to rest on your shoulders all of the sudden. You spun around in shock to look at her, seeing her smiling face made you smile ever so slightly despite your pain and anguish. You could not get a word out before your smiling gardener friend took your hands in her own and began to pull you away from the kitchen and lead you away upstairs, climbing the stairs that lead up your attic despite your protests that it was pointless now…

But your protests were silenced when the door was opened and you saw Edmund holding your mother’s now restored ball gown. It was a stunning creation. The dress had a royal blue color with layers of delicate tulle and satin that flowed gracefully, giving it an ethereal look. The bodice is fitted with intricate embroidery of butterflies in gold and a sweetheart neckline. The skirt is voluminous, made up of layers of petticoats. It was like it was brand new.

“Come now, you best be getting ready now.” Seraphina spoke while you stood in a state of shock but you merely shook your head at her words. She was taken aback by your hesitation, her hands coming to rest on her hips. “Well why not?”

“My stepmother and stepsisters have already left-”

“And do you think that will stop us from getting you there?” Edmund spoke in response to your hesitation, cutting you off before you could finish your objection. “Now get ready and leave the rest to us.”

Edmund laid the dress out on your bed where a few other accessories laid on the fabric surface for you. He walked past you, briefly patting your shoulder before pulling Seraphina out of the room to let you get ready. You could nearly cry from joy at the kindness your friends had shown you. You looked down at the items on the bed and you nearly began sobbing from joy, the dress was perfect and slippers of white and blue lace laid beside it.

Perhaps this evening would be a fairytale come true.

Edmund, Seraphina, and Adelaide awaited you at the foot of the stairs and you could see the overjoyed look in their eyes when you finally descended the stairs into the main entryway in your mother’s gown. You could see the tears building up in the eyes of Seraphina and Adelaide and the smile upon Edmund’s face as he reached out his hand to help you down the rest of the stairs.

“Come, let’s get you to that ball.” Edmund led you by the hand, out the front door of the house. At the foot of the stone stairs stood one of the horses from your house’s stables, a riding horse, not one that would be suitable for pulling a carriage. Edmund gave you a hand, helping you mount the horse and giving you the reins of the horse. “I am friends with the groundskeeper of the Rockwell Estate, I sent him a telegram, he is expecting you, you may leave the horse in their stables. Now go.”

“Thank you, all of you.”

“Yes, that is all very kind, now go.” Edmund waved you off, and you took the horse’s reins and off you went.

—————————

You reached the Rockwell Estate as the night settled over the city and like Edmund said the groundskeeper was indeed expecting you. You stored away the horse away in the stable and the groundskeeper pointed you in the direction of the garden doors that would lead you into the ballroom. The garden was beautiful and you could see the reflection of dancing candlelight from the ballroom reflected on the brushes and beds of flowers. Just like the gardener said, there was a balcony in the garden with large sets of glass doors which would lead into the ballroom, you could see the dancing figures within and you hesitated when you reached the balcony, it had been such a long time since you had been at a party like this, perhaps it would have been better for you to stay home like your stepmother told you to.

“Miss, are you alright?” When you heard a voice address you out of the blue, you jumped in shock and spun around to see a gentleman standing there, who no doubt had just stepped away from the party. He was a young man dressed in his evening dress, brown hair, and the most stunning green eyes. “You look lost.”

“Oh no… I just have not been here- or rather any ball in a long time, not since I was a girl.” You stared at the people behind the glass rather than looking at the man who was standing before you. “I have not been anywhere like this since my father died.”

“Ah… my condolences for your loss.” He gave you a look of pity before he himself looked back into the windows of the doors that led into the ballroom and sighed. “I do not doubt that many people there are looking for me, but I will say I do not really wish to go back into there.”

“And why not?”

“There is a dowager baroness who has been trying to get me to dance with her daughters all evening, I have no doubt that she is trying to get me to marry one of them.” he laughed at the thought but you only sighed when you realized that who he spoke of was certainly your stepmother. The man raised his eyebrow at the sight of your awkward expression when he mentioned the dowager baroness. “I am to take it that you know her?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” You shook your head at that thought of your stepmother and stepsisters and exhaled a heavy sigh before giving him a smile. “But I promise you I truly do not wish to do anything she does… I… I just wished to have a little fun before my stepmother tries to marry me off to a man I have never even met.”

“Well then, may I have your first dance?” you watched the man extend his hand to you, silently hoping that you would take it. You had a feeling of dread building in your gut but it was something you had held in you for most of your life since you had met your stepmother and stepsisters, so truly this is nothing now. You reached out and took his gloved hand with your own and you let him pull you forward, leading towards the ballroom doors, but you stopped before the doors and he turned back to look at you and your hesitation. “Is something wrong?”

“I am frightened… I have never… this…” Your hand began to slip away from the man’s grasp, as you attempted to step back as a feeling of regret builded up in your stomach, but the man held tight to your hand as he looked back at you. You looked down at your dress, all the layers of satin and tulle could not hide the act that you did not belong here. It is only earlier today, this morning, that Seraphina told you those words that echoed in your mind…

“Because you have a good heart and know how to do the job properly that most of them neglect, you would be a perfect lady of the house just like your mother was.”

In this world people with good hearts get trampled on, and that is what you have been subjected to since the death of your father, you have no place in this world, so why were you here? You did not belong here, you could not pretend to be who you were not. “This is not me, I… I should go.”

“Go? Why-”

“I am just a servant girl since my father died, I do not belong there. I should have never come tonight, I am sorry you had to be seen with me.” You tried to pull your hand back once again but instead he squeezed your hand even tighter than before, you looked into his eyes to see the glint of a serious concern forming on his face, his eyes narrowing at you and your terrified expression as you bordered tears. “Sir, please let go of me.”

“What has happened to you? Why are you so afraid?” You felt your form begin to tremble as he looked down at you, truly something felt horribly wrong about this night you have been awaiting for. While his words felt kind and genuine, worried for you, you could not shake the feeling of something, some sort of foreboding feeling inside of you. “Please, I am able help you-”

“Please sir, just go back to the party and forget about me.” with one final tug you broke your hand away from his grasp, making him stagger back a few feet. You did not waste a single second, you picked up the skirt of your dress and ran back through the garden from where you came. You tripped a bit as you reached where the pavement turned into dirt, but you did not even look back even as one of your slippers slipped off your foot. You reached the stables and they had not even put your horse away yet, so you merely waved the stable boy away and mounted your horse, throwing one of your legs over the torso of the steed as you grabbed the leather reins tightly and with a heavy flick of them you were off like the wind.

You did not even notice that the nobleman had attempted to follow you, but stopped when he spotted your lost slipper on the ground. He knelt down to pick up the slipper of blue and white lace, looking it over in his hand.

“Albert!”

The eldest Moriarty brother turned his head about when he heard William calling his name from the balcony where he was just with you a moment ago before you ran off before even stepping foot in the ballroom. He stood up from the ground, holding the slipper in hand as he began to make his way back from where he just came. Albert spotted William standing at the edge of the balcony, looking down at his elder brother as Albert made his way up the stone stairs to where his younger brother stood.

“Is that from the woman I just saw you case after?”

“Ah, so you saw that.”

“Indeed.” William leaned against the stone gating that surrounded the balcony as Albert came to stand beside his brother with your slipper in hand to which William was just referring to. “I suppose this is an affair in need of our services?”

“It appears so.” Albert spoke in reply as he came to lean against the stone as well, gazing up at the night sky. “Though we need to find her first.”

“I am sure we will manage.”

—————————

“Nothing?” Seraphina asked Adelaide as she returned from your room once again after trying to get you out for the third time today with the temptation of food, lunch this time. Adelaide shook her head as she set your very much full plate of food back on the counter. “She has not spoken a word since she returned last night, what happened?”

“I do not know, but that does not matter right now.” Adelaide grabbed her apron from the counter and put it back on, reaching her hands back to tie the strings in a neat bow. “We are to have guests for tea, the Moriarty brothers. Apparently that wench had made an agreement with the eldest to marry (Name) off to him.”

“That is horrible-”

“I do not think it is so bad, the Moriarty boys are good young men, apparently the people living on their land up in Durham pay practically nothing and they are certainly attractive young men.” Adelaide interrupted her younger coworker with her thought but everything she was saying just made Seraphina tilt her head in confusion.

“With how miserable she had made (Name) all these years, this seems far too kind to be true-”

“She only accepted because he refused to be paid a dowry.”

“That makes sense now I suppose.” Seraphina sighed at Adelaide’s explanation before she glanced up at the clock. The young gardener pushed herself to stand up from the kitchen stool she sat on, grabbing her hat from where it hung on the racks by the back door. “I should be off, I promised Edmund I would run to the store to purchase more parchment for his financial records.”

“Alright, do not wander about though.”

“I will not.”

With that Seraphina pushed open the back door and made her way through the back garden to the back gate, but when she opened it she certainly did not expect to see a man standing there. She staggered back at the sight of the blond stranger, red eyes and thin wire glasses.

“Miss Seraphina, I presume?”

“How the hell do you know who I am-”

“I was hoping to speak to you about the late baron’s daughter.”

“What?”

“Last night my brother met a girl at a party whose father had died.” The young man gestured to a carriage that stood right at the edge of the narrow alleyway that the garden gate led to, and within the carriage she could just barely make out the outline of two other men. “If you would allow us, we may be able to help her.”

—————————

Your stepmother and stepsisters sat in the drawing room, awaiting their guests to arrive when Seraphina came in with the tea from the kitchen which she had prepared so that Adelaide may have a break. While your stepsisters laughed and spoke in their high pitched and cracking voices, probably thinking tea is to talk about matches their mother was trying to make for them. Seraphina poured three cups for your stepsisters and stepmother and she watched as one by one they brought the fine china cups of tea up to their lips, taking sips before the taste made them cringe.

“Why is it so bitter?” The younger of the two stepsister, Eleanor, questioned the gardener as she swallowed the hot and bitter substance down her throat. “Do you not know how to make a simple cup of tea?”

“Manners, my dears. Our guests are to arrive any moment.” As if like clockwork, as soon as the lady of the house spoke those words there was a knock upon the front door. Your stepmother stood up from the couch as Edmund let their three guests into the house, opening the door for them and taking their coats and hats. She welcomed them with arms outstretched as she laid eyes upon the three Moriarty brothers, William, Louis, and Albert. “Welcome, it is so lovely to see you at last.”

“We could say the same, my lady.” Albert was the first to respond, fitting as the tea was to discuss the engagement of you to the young nobleman. He glanced about the room, seeing your stepsisters and the familiar face of Seraphina, but you were not in sight.

“Come, my maid will bring out-”

“Where is she?” The question cut off your stepmother, making her head turn back to the brother while she was attempting to lead them into the drawing room to sit. Albert greeted her confusion with a smile which certainly eased any tension that had formed within the room. “I would just like to see Miss (Name), since she is to be my wife and it is only fair that she is here when we discuss such things.”

“Ah, well she is upstairs in her room, it is best not to bother her-”

“She is in the attic, my lord.” Seraphina cut off her mistress which earned her a harsh glare from the woman but for the first time Seraphina did not cave in under the pressure of potentially losing her job. “I could show you to her, my lord.”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” Before your stepmother could even protest, Albert was already following the gardener upstairs which left the dowager and her daughters with William and Louis.

Earlier today you could hear from your stepsister’s loud and irritating voices that your stepmother was to be having guests over for tea today, not like it concerned you anyway, you had never been allowed to sit at the same table they did. So instead you locked yourself away in your room, besides no one would want to see a wretched servant girl about the house when company was over. You sat on your bed, a small journal in hand, it was a gift from Adelaide for your birthday, and you were writing a letter, not to anyone alive but to your parents. You were apologizing to them, telling your mother that you were sorry that you could not keep your promise to her, you did not have courage, how could you after everything? Honestly you thought yourself lucky to still even be alive.

The sound of your door opening caught your attention, you set the book aside as you looked up to see Seraphina opening the door and you were just about to ask her to leave until you saw the man standing walking in behind her, it was the same man you had met on the balcony last night. You watched his expression turn into disgust as he looked around your room, the attic was cold with a draft would be horrible in the winter, the floorboards were old and the gaps between them were practically dangerous and they get threatened to break under any more weight, and there you sat, beautiful but practically in rags.

“My lord-”

“Albert.”

“Excuse me?”

“Call me Albert, my name is Albert James Moriarty.” he stepped towards you, the floorboards creaking under his weight ever so slightly and you watched as he got down on his knee before you, taking one of your hands in his own like he did the night prior. “And if you would allow me, I would like to marry you.”

“H-how did you…” You glanced up at your friend who stood in the doorway and you saw Seraphina’s face with a guilty expression that you could read with ease. “You told him?”

“I am sorry, I just could not stand the idea of you having to be here any longer.” Seraphina bit back a sob in her throat and her gaze fell to the ground, too ashamed to meet your eyes. “I meant what I said yesterday, you deserve the world, my lady, and those three wenches should burn in hell-” “Seraphina do not say such things!”

“But you must think of them, my lady!”

“No, because I made a promise to my mother.” You glanced back at Albert who still kneeled before you on the old floorboards and you merely shook your head as tears welled up in your eyes. “I am sorry, this was a mistake for you to get involved as you did… I-I… please excuse me.”

You stood up from your bed, running out of the room and down the stairs as Albert stood up after you to follow you downstairs. You did not know where you were going but honestly you did not care, everything had never felt more overwhelming than it did in this moment. You ran down both sets of stairs, the attic stairs that led down to the second floor, and the second floor stairs that led down to the entryway, but the scream you let out at the sight you saw in the drawing room made the whole world fall silent to you. On the couches and lounge chairs you spotted your stepmother and stepsisters collapsed and judging by the reactions of panic that Edmund and Adelaide had as they tried to see if the unresponsive bodies were breathing while the brothers of Albert stood aside, they were dead. You collapsed to your knees as you began to cry uncontrollably, the shock of everything taking over, not a single coherent thought being able to form in your mind as Albert caught up to you. Instead of going to tend to the situation he knelt down beside you, taking you in his arms and stroking your hair as he soothed and hushed your cries, telling you that it would be alright.

You did not remember much else from that day, only bits and pieces…

The bodies being carried out by Scotland Yard officers…

Seraphina and Adelaide packing a bag of whatever dresses you had into a suitcase…

Albert helping you dawn your slippers…

Edmund giving you a hug as he and Adelaide said goodbye…

Then you will never forget when you were walking out the door of your old home, the sight of the small bottle of cyanide peeking out from the pocket of Seraphina’s skirt.

My dearest reader, this story is not a fairytale like that of her parents, there was no dance, no true prince charming, no forgiveness, and certainly no happily ever after. No, this story is a reminder how cruel the world truly can be, despite the fact that you can have courage and be kind that you will fail when life gives you it’s trials and when some people only wish to help they only end up inflicting even more harm upon those they seek to help.

#yandere albert moriarty x reader #yandere albert james moriarty x reader #yandere albert james moriarty #yandere moriarty the patriot #yandere yuukoku no moriarty #yandere yuukoku no moriarty x reader #yandere moriarty the patriot x reader

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trippin-over-my-fandoms · 17 days

Text

The Unbearable Tragedy of Getting What You Want

or "We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals" or that really evil spacegravity fic idea i had to explain why Sloane wasn't in season 4. Caution, its painful.

Full story here on ao3 and below the cut

HEAVY TRIGGER WARNING FOR CHILD LOSS AND MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

“Sloane?!” He had shouted for her desperately, looking among the bushes that brought his own name back to him, small and fearful and in a pitch that made his heart skip more than a few beats.

“Luther?!” She cried, “I’m here! Luther, I’m here!” Luther followed the sound down the dirt path. A particularly sharp corner in the path led him to a clearing amongst the shrubbery of the memorial. There she stood, in front on a lone stone bench, tear streaks glistening in the dim moonlight as she whipped her head around in search of him. “Sloane,” Her name came in a sigh of relief from his chest. The moment she saw him they ran toward one another, violently colliding in an embrace, one where Luther had been glad to be without his power or else he surely would have killed her with as tightly as he held on.

Sloane began to sob against him as she clutched him tightly, “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re alive” she wailed, hiccuping between the cries of her mantra, pulling him closer as if he might disappear from her again. Briefly she wondered about the state of others, that deep loneliness of getting out of that elevator alone and the fear of being stranded ebbing away with each solid beat of her husband’s heart, surely the rest of his family were okay as well.

Luther gently ran his hand over her hair and buried his face in her scalp. He breathed her in and tried to focus on the cold night air seeping into his thin shirt, listening to her shaky breath and the distant evening traffic, attempting to put himself at ease to be her rock. It was no use, however, his attempt had been futile as his own tears began to fall. Luther hugged Sloane tighter and allowed a sob of his own to slip. “I am, I’m here,” He whispered against her head, his eyes shut tight to prevent the dream from leaving him.

But it wasn’t a dream. Klaus’ footsteps as he skidded to a rough halt in the fine gravel reminded Luther of that very fact. Sloane shifts in Luther’s hold to look at their guest. “He’s okay,” comes a choked laugh followed by a sniffle she rubs away with the end of her sleeve. Luther opened his eyes to a grin plastered on his brother’s face.

“I think, for once in a million timelines, everything is okay, sister,” Klaus chuckled. He deeply understood the couple’s tearful reunion with the gooseflesh that crept all over his skin from the utterly clean feeling of no ghastly voices in his damned head. His acknowledgement of Sloane as their family brought Luther a strong feeling of hope for their future. He truly believed that everything would, in fact, be okay. They were finally done running. They were finally done with saving the world. Perhaps the most important finales of them all- they were finally done with losing one another.

If only that had been true.

Luther had been overcome with emotions the day that Sloane told him she was pregnant. While he had been excited, elated that he would have the opportunity to be a father, Luther had also been incredibly terrified by the fact that soon enough they would have someone who relied entirely on them for its survival. Worst of all, they didn’t even have a proper home. It hadn’t been more than a couple of weeks after arriving in the newest timeline when they made the discovery they’d be parents. Until then it had been easy for them, living the dream of renovating the old umbrella-sparrow mansion to its former glory. Now the pair felt the strain of having not even half of a roof over them. Beforehand it hadn’t mattered, they would suffer the elements and rotting floorboards like it was nothing. Now the restoration called for haste.

“We ought to start small,” Sloane pointed out, calming Luther who felt as if the entire house should be perfect in the eight to nine month deadline, “We need to focus on the part of the house with the most of its four walls, don’t you think?”

Luther had nodded and agreed but that hadn’t stopped him in his scatter-brained way of trying to fix everything all at once. But the basement kitchen had proven a well enough home with its sturdy brick walls and hardy timber that supported the massive house above. Even if it had taken some convincing to Sloane that it wouldn’t collapse on them one day, they had managed to fashion it into a proper home. They filled the space with trinkets and furniture they found second hand and gently used decor gifted from Allison whenever she changed her own scenery with the season. She had even purchased them the intricately carved bassinet from France that sat patiently off to one side. And the new couch she claimed was one she had been unhappy with after she ordered it. Sloane knew well enough that her sister-in-law had bought the thing just for them as she had the bassinet. Allison had been alienated from the rest of the family after the events at the hotel and her constant showering of gifts had been a result of Luther and Sloane being the only two to even speak to her. While it may not have been more than a phone call or two it still had meant the world to the superstar.

But now that bassinet and couch collected dust along with everything else Luther left in that basement home.

“It’s been long enough now, I think we could find out whether it’ll be a boy or girl,” Sloane mused as she lay on the couch, her feet propped up on Luther’s lap at the other end where he thoroughly massaged them. She could hardly see him over her growing bump if her head hadn’t been propped up on a pillow. Luther only shook his head, “I dunno, I think I still would want to wait, I’m sorry.”

Sloane scoffed and made a playful act as if she were going to kick him, “Don’t be, you have every bit of say in this as I do. Which reminds me, did you ever decide on your names?” They had chosen to each pick a boy and a girl’s name while they waited on their child. Both Sloane and Luther had found the name to be the hardest part, even over all the sickness and Sloane’s cravings as well as Luther’s sympathy pains.

“Remind me of yours again before I say anything, just in case…” Luther chuckled, afraid of forgetting her choices and having settled for a duplicate by accident. There was no harm if he had done just that but he wanted to present a secondary option.

Sloane smiled as she traced her fingers over her stomach, “Alessandria or Roman, though there’s room for improvement, hence why I’ve asked,” She had been inspired by her travel guide when trying to come up with her names yet none of them stuck out to her. She needed his help desperately.

“Those are both good! Beautiful even,” he recognized them for being Italian, reminding him of a trip he still owed to her.

“But are they good enough for our baby? I mean, they don’t sound like something we’d name a pet?” Sloane hid her face with her hands and slumped down her pillow, “Just let me hear your’s, please Luther I’m sure they’re much better!’

Luther replaced where her hand had been on her bump with his own, fearful of his fingers being too cold as he felt her flinch ever so slightly. “I was thinking,” he started slowly, “Orion or Cassiopeia.” Luther hesitated, briefly drawing his hand away only for Sloane to quickly grip his wrist and ease him back to her. “After the constellations of course,” he smiled almost meekly at her as her face lit up.

“Luther!” she shrieks, “Those are even more beautiful! Oh, Orion would be perfect!” Sloane hummed as she held his hand against her bump, “I think we have a winner.”

“You really think so?” brief visions danced across Luther’s imagination conjuring up what the nursery may soon look like. They contained glow in the dark star stickers and a mural painted wall the pair of them could do together. His stomach flipped with nerves for the millionth time since finding out he’d be a father. He was sure he’d never get used to that feeling.

Sloane nodded with a dreamy sigh, “I can’t wait to meet our baby,” she hummed as she looked at the patiently empty bassinet tucked neatly into the corner of the room. The anticipation felt so similar to when they had waited on the end of the world yet filled with promise of joyful new beginnings. “It won’t be much longer now.”

That day had come sooner than either of them had been prepared for.

It had been like a light switch. In a matter of moments Sloane had gone from full of energy and anticipation to pale and fatigued. They had just barely reached the eight month mark when her disposition suddenly changed. Night after night it seemed that Luther would be consoling her to sleep as she stayed fearfully awake. Both of them had blamed it on nerves but Luther forever wished he had heeded those early warning signs sooner.

Luther’s hands trembled when he helped her to her unsteady feet after being crumpled against the toilet vomiting blood. She had lost her footing soon after standing, doubling over in pain and wrapping her free arm over her stomach. Luther picked her up in his strong arms and whispered reassurances to her, hurriedly carrying his wife to their beat up car. Neither of them had really believed in any god but Luther prayed to any that might hear his pleas that she’d be okay.

The doctors didn’t have time to tell him much, not that he really understood any of it. He dutifully held her hand tight and smoothed her sweaty hair to aid Sloane through her pain. She cried and screamed as her labor was induced and Luther had never felt more helpless than when she looked to him to save her. He wished for nothing more than to hold her in his arms and take her away from it all.

The room fell eerily silent in seconds save for the whispers of the medical staff and the intense beeping of the machines they had her hooked up to. Having had indestructible skin Luther had taken much painful damage through his whole life from bullets to avalanches and explosions but none of it could have prepared him for when they handed his lifeless son over to them.

Sloane had lost nearly all her energy to grieve for their child, barely able to reach out a hand to stroke a finger over his cheek. Luther wanted to cry but nothing came forth. He felt everything yet nothing all at once.

A rush stole anything he might have felt away in mere seconds when the machines began to scream wildly, the doctors taking their child, and ushering him out of the way. He got only a brief glance at her fainted expression before he was sent out the door.

The wait in the hall felt like years inside Klaus’ purgatory, not dead but not alive either. It was all too soon when a doctor came to him and kneeled before where he sat, an apologetic and sympathy ridden expression, his lips moved but Luther heard nothing.

Oh, how he had wished the world would crumble into ruins and take him with it. His own breath was gone from his lungs when he saw her laying there lifeless, her arms neatly placed close to her chest holding their son. They almost looked as if they were still alive just peacefully sleeping. Luther fell to the floor in his grief by her bedside and sobbed, clutching the rough and scratchy blanket draped over her waist.

Why did this timeline have to be their final one? Why couldn’t they have their powers to fix everything wrong that might befall them? He wanted to die right along with them.

He felt pathetic letting Diego take care of all the funeral arrangements but Luther didn’t have it in him. He supposed his brother felt guilty as Lila had just had their daughter and a proper wedding for them was on the horizon. Luther didn’t hold it against them, he was glad for them if anything, somehow he had just been the unlucky one.

It was the inscription on the headstone that truly did him in, however.

“The sky gained two new stars this day- Sloane and Orion Hargreeves- may they forever shine”

Luther took very little from their home downstairs, he couldn’t bear to look at what had been their life together, full of hopes and dreams that would never come to fruition. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to abandon them all together. So while the bassinet and her coffee mug where she left it on the table and the travel books and everything else gathered dust in the space, Luther continued to work diligently on the mansion. It was the only thing that kept him going. He paid careful attention to each window pane and sconce that he brought back, thinking of her with each item, how proud she might be that at least he still went on with living.

Yet little by little and day by day, Luther became a simple shell of the man he had once become. It had been Sloane after all that brought him the peace he so badly needed when he had spent much of his life hating his grotesqueness. He couldn’t even look at his new body without hating it. If he couldn’t love it maybe someone else could, and he had to make money in some sort of way. Somehow the demeaning act of parading himself around made him feel… something.

And Luther never stopped secretly wishing that it would all just be over.

#umbrella academy #umbrella academy season 4 #umbrella academy season 3 #luther hargreeves #sloane hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves #lila pitts #fanfic #sorry guys #fr im sorry

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