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softspeirs · 3 months

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all in: ron speirs/OC

Author's Note: This is an excerpt from chapter sixteen of my longfic Barren Soul which you can read in full on AO3! This was the first piece of writing I ever did for Band of Brothers, so I wanted to give it a moment on its own - this fic has been ongoing for four years, and has been a total labor of love. Although this is part of a longfic, I also think this is a good standalone and you don't need much prior knowledge of Ron and Kat to read. I hope you enjoy!

Speirs watches from the treeline as the disaster of an attack carries on. He hates himself for it, but he can’t take his eyes off the slim form of Kat Gray, barricaded against a building, Johnny Martin at her back.

His heart is in his throat, pulse loud in his ears. The little radio chatter — more like screaming at this point — he can hear has fury roiling in his gut.

He can’t get her face out of his mind.

And now he has to watch as Easy gets picked off one by one. Lipton is their only saving grace, and Speirs has to force his mind to focus, to listen for orders and trust that she is going to survive this.

“Speirs!” Winters hollers, his voice angrier than Ron has ever heard it, and it spurs him into action. “Get out there, relieve Dike, and take that attack on in!”

He doesn’t hesitate. He has no thought for the bullets zipping by as he runs, he has no thought for the sounds of screaming around him as he falls to one knee by Lipton, Luz, and Dike.

“Lieutenant, what are we doing?” Lipton asks, bordering on panic.

“I’m taking over.” He replies, and a deep breath later, he’s coming up with a plan.

The battle seems to go in slow motion. His heart pumping, he runs and runs and somehow through all the bullets whizzing about and the steady thump of German artillery, it all goes quiet in his mind.

All he can think about is their objective, and getting everyone out of there. Without this accomplished, they’re sitting ducks, and he refuses to be another bad leader for this company.

By the time it’s over, he’s drenched in sweat, covered in dirt, and has a bullet graze to his left shoulder that he’ll need to get looked at eventually. He barely has time to catch his breath before a sniper takes aim, and his heart goes to his throat as he watches Lipton shove Kat to the ground and near an overturned truck.

Before he can call out any commands, Lipton takes charge and within another minute, Shifty Powers fires another shot, and quiet settles back over the town again.

When the rest of the company filters in, it feels natural to start giving orders to check and clear buildings, and find a suitable place for the CP.

“Speirs.” Sink finds him quickly, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Hell of a job. Goes without saying that promotion is yours.”

Speirs blinks. “Thank you, sir.”

“It’s well earned, son. We’ll deal with bars and stripes after we see what damage was done here. Talk to Winters and Nixon and figure out next moves.”

“Yes, sir.”

He feels a little blindsided, though he supposes he took the rank of captain the second he was called over by Winters to lead the attack. It still feels like it all happened to someone else.

He finds himself searching for Kat in the milling crowd, and is relieved when he spots her calling out to Roe, Spina, and a few other soldiers about getting an aid station up and running. It’ll be a day before the hospital catches up with them, and Speirs just hopes that this is the end of this truly terrible stretch.

Later, after he’s gone over the meager company roster again and again and made himself as useful as he can, Speirs finds Kat in the church. His steps falter when he sees her, leaning half against the pew, half against George Luz, her eyes drooping. It’s clear she’s exhausted.

He’s still wired on adrenaline, a combination of the thrill of taking command and nearly getting himself killed. He needs to do this now, before he loses his nerve.

“Gray,” he calls for her gently, not wanting to startle her. Luz nudges her when she doesn’t respond right away, and she snaps to alertness, looking around wildly. Trying to find another injury, he thinks grimly. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

Kat looks wary. He doesn’t blame her. The last time they spoke he was so angry with her he could barely see straight. The only thing he could see in his mind’s eye was the look on Joe Liebgott’s face when he raced into the CP days beforehand, saying that they needed a jeep to get Kat Gray to the aid station.

He heard “during the shelling” and “wounded, unconscious” and nearly felt the world tilt on its axis. Dog and Easy were hit hard in the Bois Jacques and he, morbidly, was getting used to reporting on wounded and KIAs nearly every day, but he never, ever imagined that it could have been her he had to tell someone about.

When he saw her later, alive and well, he couldn’t help but snap at her, even though the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel like he was talking down to her or doubting her abilities. God knows the Battalion would be a lot worse off if not for her and the other medics.

Now, as he tears himself out of his thoughts, they find a quiet alcove, away from prying eyes. Up close he has the opportunity to look at her face and memorize every detail of it, including the new scrapes and bruises that have appeared.

“Sir?” She asks. She looks nervous, and he hates it. He doesn’t want her to be afraid of him.

He forces himself to be steady. Taking a deep breath, he begins with the confession that will either send him sinking or soaring. “I told you I had something I needed to say to you.”

She nods.

Suddenly, he feels lost for words. How does he put into words the way he feels when she’s around him? The way he constantly seeks her out like a beacon? It’s terrifying, so he decides to go with the truth. “You scare me.” He tells her, an admonition and confession all in one.

She blinks, taken aback. “Don’t be ridiculous–”

He can’t help but smile softly, her lack of awareness about how magnetic she can be one of the things that keeps drawing him back in. “You scare me because you’re a distraction, even if I’m not near you. You’ve caught me completely off guard, and it’s infuriating. You have absolutely no regard for your own safety, you continue to throw yourself in front of every goddamn bullet you see…” He stops himself, breathing hard. “You almost died, and I can’t let this war go on without you knowing that I--”

Her hand gentle on the side of his face puts a stop to whatever he was going to say next. Her touch is cool, and his heart stutters. Their faces are mere inches apart, both of them holding fast to the last vestiges of their self control.

Her face twists like she’s going to cry. “No one has ever said anything like that to me in my life.” She whispers, swallowing hard, and Ron feels his heart splinter into pieces at the look on her face. His face falls when he realizes she’s about to cry.

“Stop.” He says firmly but gently, his hand finding her cheek, a mirror of the way she’s touching him. “Look at me.” Her eyes are watery. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“But I want--” She cuts herself off, seeming frustrated. Whether at herself, or the situation, or that she can’t find the words, he’s not sure. But she hasn’t run from him, hasn’t slapped him across the face, so he lets himself feel a bit of hope. “If we were any other people at any other time…”

“I know.” There’s no confession of love, no romantic overtures, but it’s more than he expected. “You have to stay alive.” He whispers.

Feeling emboldened by the way she still hasn’t stopped touching him, her slim hands currently fiddling with the pins on his lapels, he leans into her a little more. His heart still galloping, he forces himself to take two steps back from her. “You should go first.”

She locks her gaze with his one more time, a long moment shared between the two of them. “Get back to your men, Captain.”

“Yes ma’am.” He murmurs. He wants to kiss the smile off her face.

She’s gone like she wasn’t there in the first place, leaving him to sag against the wall at his back. He wipes his hand over his face, shaking his head in disbelief, before forcing himself to return to the person the men need him to be right now.

The first few days with Speirs as CO are like a breath of fresh air. They have supplies, they have hot meals, and best of all, they finally have someone in charge that knows what they’re doing.

There’s still a heavy dose of suspicion going around, Kat notices. Whether it’s from all the rumors flying around about Speirs or because they’re still trying to figure him out, she’s not sure.

Her personal biases aside, she knows she’d trust him with her life and the lives of her friends. His actions in Foy speak for themselves, and she knows Lipton, Luz, Martin, and most of the other NCOs think the same.

She’s still struggling to comprehend what happened between the two of them after the assault on Foy. It felt inevitable, but they haven’t spoken about it since, and it’s starting to feel like they never will.

Maybe that’s for the best, she thinks, not naive to the real world consequences of getting involved with a superior officer.

She and Spina are packing up whatever supplies they have left from their makeshift aid station, getting ready to load the trucks that will hopefully take them as far from Foy and Bastogne as humanly possible.

Approaching footsteps have them looking up, and Kat fights the widening of her eyes when she sees Captains Speirs, Winters, and Nixon.

“Evening,” Nixon says when he gets close, coming around to stand on Kat’s other side. “You’re always working.”

“Someone has to.” She fires back, grinning at him when he rolls his eyes.

“We’re almost finished,” Spina says, glancing at the clipboard in his hand. “We’re still low on most supplies, but with the hospital closer than it’s been in months, we can send the worst cases there where they’re better stocked than we are.”

Winters nods. Speirs hasn’t said a word, but Kat feels his eyes on the side of her faze boring a hole into her.

“We’ll probably get orders tomorrow morning,” Winters says, “And we’re hoping to resupply when we get to the next town. Make sure anyone who’s sick knows we’ll have real beds and showers soon.”

Relief floods Kat’s body at the thought of sleeping indoors, and she’s sure it’s showing on her face.

“Don’t spend too long out here.” Winters adds, looking at both of them in turn. “Especially you, Kat. I want you to give that arm a break and get some rest.”

“Yes, sir.”

They leave, with the exception of their new CO, and a look passes over Spina’s face. “I, uh– I’ll head in and make sure we’ve got somewhere to bed for the night.”

Kat and Speirs watch him go, and Kat is shaking her head before he can say anything. “This isn’t a good idea, he’s going to think–”

“I just wanted to check in with you.”

Kat swallows hard, feeling so out of her depth she doesn’t know what to do with herself, but also reveling in having his attention so fully on her. It’s a heady feeling. “We just need to be careful.”

He nods slowly. “Let me see your arm.” He says, gesturing for her to put her hand in his.

It’s this, strangely, that feels like a turning point for Kat. He has never touched her before, not like this, not so caring. She has never let anyone, really, do this for her.

“It’s fine.”

“You keep saying that.”

She holds out her arm, and he takes her hand gently, lifting her sleeve with his other hand until he can see the dirtied bandage underneath. She watches his face, and his jaw ticks when he sees how extensive the damage was.

“We’re out of bandages.” She says, needlessly, because they have been for weeks. “I’ll change it when we get resupplied.”

“How many stitches?”

“No one told me. Haven’t had time to count,” She says lightly.

He meets her eyes, one eyebrow raised. “Been busy?”

“A little.” She shrugs.

This is new. The banter. It’s– it’s the same feeling she had when they talked one on one in Paris, and again, she realizes how young he looks.

“I know we need to talk about… this.” He says, hand still gentle on her arm.

Kat nods slowly. “I don’t really know how.”

He smiles, a small, quick upturn of his lips. “I don’t either.”

“We need to be careful.” Kat looks up at him. “I want–” She stops herself, eyes closing briefly, trying to find the right words. “I have these feelings for you that I shouldn’t have, but I do. And I don’t know what that means or how we do anything about it. I thought it was just me–”

“It’s not just you.” His gruff voice cuts her off. “And the way I feel… Kat, there’s nothing casual about it. Not for me.”

Her heart thuds in her chest, and she doesn’t know how long they stand like that, but an understanding passes between them and without words, it becomes so clear between them.

They could die any day. Either of them. They’re not guaranteed to come home. And if this is the only chance she has to feel some happiness, to feel cared for and to feel those butterflies that up until now she’s only read about… she’s going to take it. She’s going to be careful with her heart, but she’s going to let it lead her this time.

The sparkle in his warm eyes makes it clear he’s going to do the same thing. And the knowledge that she’s the only one getting to see him like this, getting to see this look on his face… it only makes it clearer that she’s making the right decision.

So with two feet, she jumps. All in.

#ron speirs x oc #ronald speirs x oc #oc: kat gray #barren soul fic #softspeirs band of brothers fanfiction #band of brothers fanfiction

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mcflymemes · 1 year

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PROMPTS FROM REIGN * assorted dialogue from the television show

you don't sound very enthusiastic.

now's not a good time.

i opened my heart to a liar.

you are a necessary evil whose orbit i can't seem to escape.

there is always risk.

what happened between us can never happen again.

do you flirt with everyone?

how do you feel?

if the price is my life, i will give it.

my heart says i should be with you, no matter what.

you shouldn't be here.

we belong together. i won't lose you to another.

we can only love each other.

i can't bear to think about a future anymore, not without you.

i'm scared of being alone.

are you alone? are you with someone?

i know it's not what you want to hear.

i never said i was a good man.

it's not about that.

we were supposed to dance under the stars.

i can't believe this is goodbye.

to see your smile is to feel the sun.

you don't want to marry me.

you want to hear something honest? i would do anything to keep you.

i love you. i am your equal.

those memories are a part of me. but i am stronger than they are.

there were other ways of handling this.

you must continue to sacrifice.

history is written by survivors.

you will blame yourself, most of all.

i am quite happy with my view.

i don't care what you learn, as long as you don't forget.

you have no intention of marrying me.

i refuse to surrender.

you're beautiful and clever and unpredictable.

danger surrounds me here, and i am in your debt.

are you in danger too?

i never saw any ghosts.

whatever happens, i'll never leave you.

now i am lying to you.

i love you, and i thank god for the time we've had.

i lose everyone i love.

i'm not sure i trust my own fate anymore.

what odd turns our lives have taken.

do we trust each other?

love is irrelevant to people like us.

there are forces that conspire, forces of darkness, forces of the heart.

your taste in men always did leave something to be desired.

how awful must you find me to do this.

you do realize that we're going to be married someday, don't you?

i don't know who you are, or why you hide, but your warning saved me.

i'm sorry we've come to this.

tell me why you're so afraid.

i am yours this night.

love is never simple. not that i'm any expert.

it makes me feel better.

my spirit is inside you as yours is inside mine.

you don't want this at all.

you fought so hard for me.

stop shutting me out.

this is the most dangerous thing you have ever done.

i'm not scared of death anymore.

i've learned to live with wanting things i can't have.

ruling requires that your hands be drenched in blood.

what if they saw you?

i show no mercy.

i don't know how much time we have left, but every moment matters.

you are so beautiful.

i want you to know i did not mean those words i said. i didn't even mean them in the moment.

our love will die here.

i take no pleasure in being right.

we've been over this already.

i don't know who to believe or to trust.

i'll protect you.

i can barely bear to have you look at me.

is this how it's going to be from now on? both of us constantly wondering what the other is up to?

things could change.

you seem shaken.

i'm still in some pain and i prefer not to be touched.

why is this so difficult?

take a stand, my love.

have you learned nothing?

i want you to listen to me carefully.

we're alone. there's no need.

you're not charming me tonight.

you crushed the rebellion by yourself.

love like that doesn't just disappear.

we can't do this.

may god have mercy on your soul.

is that what you want to hear?

do not test my power and do not tempt my fury.

what have you been discussing, the weather?

you cannot relent.

to what do i owe this surprise?

i won't let you do it.

the more we try to help each other, the more harm we do.

safe choices don't always make us safe.

i want you forever.

i think i shall never see you again.

when you came into my room, i shouldn't have said what i did.

i know you had a life before i got here.

stop being so strong, so perfect...

it's not that simple.

real love never fades, not truly.

tell me, what would hurt more? knowing the person you love will die, or knowing they're alive but you cannot have them?

i'd probably try to kiss you.

i love you. and one of us should be happy.

we have been given a miraculous second chance.

i thank you for your protection last night.

this was not an action of passion.

if i'm as responsible as you say, i will never forgive myself.

you must leave immediately.

i take things sometimes.

i had sex in that greenhouse once.

tell me when you want me to stop.

your life is more valuable than this.

just know whatever happens, this is not the end i dreamed for us.

men in general like to win.

why are you here?

i pay attention.

i love you. you do know that, no matter what i've done.

look where that love has brought us.

i'd rather have hope with you than certainty anywhere else.

i was only interested in claiming you.

your heart was my light.

you just said something about my ass.

i will spill blood to defend what's mine.

you must love again.

without you my heart is closed as tight as a fist.

why do you dismiss me?

you do not need to seduce a man who already wants you.

i wanted to give you the chance to do the right thing and i still believe you will.

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wh0refornikolailantsov · 1 year

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Keep You Near - Tolya Yul Baraar

This one, this one was due to a car ride conversation and won't leave my mind so.

Content Warnings: Canon Compliant Threat, Violence And Injury. Not Beta/Proof Read, We Die Like Men.

The job was meant to be simple enough, especially given you were being sent on it with Tolya and Tamar, two of Sturmhond's finest, arguably the finest he has to offer, and the most adept to violence if the need arose. Each as much as a threat with their weaponry of choice as they are as Heartrender's.

You had boundless trust in the twins, not just from the way Tolya moved with such certainty despite the treelike stature, you cannot help but recall all the times you had known exactly whom anyone was referring to by the expression "the giant with the golden eyes."

It wasn't even the way in which you fully believed Tamar could and would likely take down the entire Fjerdan Army over as little as a spilled drink or out of line comment about her natural born gifts. A fight you had no doubt she would win.

It was down to the simple fact of trust, in the time you had spent with the twins, the eagerness to fight, the resilience of their nature and the power of their skills with both their gifts and weaponry was not what had you believing in them. But their unwavering loyalty.

One of the crew aboard the Volkvolny had described Tamar once as "the most trigger happy woman" he had ever met. You thought that sentiment did her a misjustice, for all of Tamar's willingness to fight she did not out of a sheer desire for violence, it was always with reason, maybe not always a perfectly agreeable reason her brother would often argue but a reason nonetheless.

As for Tolya, you had come to believe there was nothing he was not capable or willing to do in the name of his faith and his loyalty. You'd never known someone so fiercely devoted as the bare armed giant.

He had no death wish, that many of the crew you'd seen before have had, but he wasn't unwilling to die for what he believed in, and you admired that, even if it scared you in ways you could not express, to depths of your soul which whispered quiet concerns in the emptiness of conversation.

You would willingly lay down your lives for either of them, and you knew that to be true, but there was something in the way you feared Tolya coming to harm that made missions like this, with just the three of you increasingly difficult.

Tolya offers you a grin and you're brought back to the moment, for all his size and skill, Tolya possessed a softness and a kindness you would have never expected from such a man.

You understood why those who did not have the pleasure of knowing him as personally as you, would fear such a giant. His stature alone was enough to be threatening, and then his sword which remains unholstered besides the looming risk it presents. But knowing him as you do, it is the poet within the warrior that you see above all.

"This is where I advise we part ways," Tamar comments looking at the fork in the path ahead. "Not least of all because I can sense Tolya is about to start reciting and I cannot fathom a worse pastime right now."

This is the part of the plan you like least of all, the part in which for the remaining sunlight you shall part into separate groups.

Before you manage to get a word out Tamar just gives you a large smile. "Enjoy my brothers company, and try not to run into trouble, I hate to think of you having fun without me," she says.

"See you by dusk sister," Tolya says, watching her eager to get out of here. Once she is out of earshot Tolya gives you a small sideways smile. "She was right, I was about to start."

"I do not mind," you remind him. "I quite enjoy your poetry."

The stop at the boarding house was entirely unplanned, the journey should have been straight on until you two reached the market and likely had Tamar waiting for you both, acting as if she had won some imaginary race.

But things had not gone according to plan.

You knew Tamar had volunteered for the path in which she took because she believed it to be the most dangerous path of the two to take, meaning that if anyone was likely to get attacked during the mission, it would've been her and she could have had the joy of a fight for the first time in a while. But as likely as the odds had favoured that outcome, it was yourself and Tolya that had run into trouble.

A few Fjerdan's much further south than you'd ever seen them to be, and a few mercenaries looking to make a quick Kruge where the Fjerdan's failed. One of those would've been easy enough to deal with, between your combined skills and training, but back to back fighting the arsenal of the Drüskelle and then the numbers of the mercenaries, it was a unfair fight to say the least.

An unfair fight that had left you with likely broken ribs and a contemptible cut across your forehead that seemed to continue to bleed no matter how much you tried to attend to it. Which admittedly is not as much as it needed with your focus being elsewhere, for all your injuries you had sustained against the attack, Tolya had sustained worse ones in an attempt to keep you safe. A fact you were not letting slip by unnoticed.

With no Corporalki Healers in any kind of distance, and only the one Otkazat'sya at the boarding house that has remotely any knowledge of true healing, barely even a boy in age. There is no way to let Tamar know what has happened, and your only option is to allow Tolya, who despite the haze of pain and faded consciousness, is insisting you needn't worry about him, to have some time to heal in the way the body intended. Slowly.

Once you had paid for a room, and twice as much for silence on the two of you being there, you had gotten Tolya to lay down, which between the sheer size of him and his repeatedly insistence that he can continue to the ride, was no easy task.

Now lain with his shoulders against the bedpost, making it only comically more obvious that this bed was simply far too small to hold him, his eyes find yours again, as you are emptying out supplies looking for any kind of remedy or assistance that may have been hidden away inside the satchels you'd been carrying.

"You are worrying too much," Tolya insists, but you can hear the pain as he breathes in, the way it is a struggle to get the sentences out. You cannot help but worry that you must keep him away for at least a little while longer, to be sure that if he falls asleep he will in fact wake again.

"Tolya, tell me a poem," you insist, trying to keep him engaged, trying to keep him aware so you can focus on the task of treating him. Trying to keep your mind from wandering back into a memory, from how quickly and without thought Tolya put himself between you and the danger. Like it was nothing. Like it was second nature. Like there had been no other option but to do so. And just how quickly that had got him knocked to the ground. You try not to think of how your heart stopped in the moments where you weren't sure he would make it. How you're still not convinced he might make it. How if he doesn't make it, he will have died to save you. You try to push that thought as far from your mind as you can, but it is ringing out in your mind like the a message from the Saints.

"It’s time, my friend: it’s time! The heart wants rest –," he begins.

"Maybe not this poem," your voice cannot withhold it's tremble. But he doesn't seem to hear you through the fog of his own pain and the feeling of his mind slipping into unconsciousness.

"the days slip by, the hours take away

fragments of our life: and you and I," he continues. As long as it keeps him awake, as long as it keeps him awake, you tell yourself over and over.

"plan how to live and, – just like that – we die.

No happiness on land, yet there’s freedom, peace.

I’ve long dreamt of an enviable fate –

I’ve long thought, a weary slave, to fly

to some far place of labour and true joy," he finishes and he must be able to feel your eyes boring into him, and the sound of your heart threatening to tear its way out of your chest to aid him in any way you can. He laughs and tries to hide the wince as he does.

"You cannot die now, koja, because you cannot leave me on that poem," you don't even realise you've said it.

"Everyone mourns the first blossom. Who will weep for the rest that fall? I will remain to sing for you, long after the spring has gone," Tolya whispers, his voice so quiet is sends a ice cold wind of fear right through your blood and into your bones.

"Kebben’a," you say quietly, recognising this one. You pull out a small glass vial from one of the satchel pockets and thank the Saints that there was some kind of elixir to be found.

You recognise from the colour and the vials stopper shape that it was not exactly meant for injuries like Tolya's, being a low level assistant to healing and a medium strength painkiller, but your grateful for it regardless.

You hand him the vial and he drinks it. "Now that won't do massive amounts but at least it'll help," you say, more for your own benefit than his. You still cannot tell exactly how severe the injuries are, and Tolya is ever insistent on hiding it.

"I am not in need of your courage right now Tolya," you say, moving to sit beside him, "I am in need of your honour and your honesty, I cannot help you without knowing just how badly you are hurt."

"Not so badly," he says, but his voice is still quiet. It crosses your mind that with injury and pain like this he may not even remember most of it come tomorrow. The blanks in memory when it comes to injury are usually a gift, a measure to protect yourself from the intensity.

But you know even if he was to forget what he had done for you today, you never could.

"You needn't have thrown yourself towards the mercenary like that," you say matching the quietness of his voice.

"He was not unsteady," Tolya says between a laboured breath, "he likely would've killed you."

"He nearly killed you," you remind him, allowing your voice to carry more loudly with this sentiment. "And where would that have left me?"

"He didn't" Tolya reminds you.

"If you're improved by morning," you start, "then I will ride ahead and let Tamar-,"

"No," he whispers, the relief from the elixir taking affect but bringing some well needed sleep with it, "stay."

"I will return," you say.

"Please stay," he insists. "I want you to stay with me."

You doubt he is lucid enough now to be much aware of what he is saying, and you're almost grateful because if he could notice the way your heart was hammering in your chest there is no way you would be able to hide how you feel any longer. There would be no denying anything with the way your heart is calling to him now.

"You want me to stay with you?" You ask. "Now?"

"Always," he says, the whisper turning into a mumble, he reaches out and grabs a hold of your arm gently, lacing his fingers around you, as if to be sure to keep you near. "But especially now."

The room falls quiet as Tolya finally gives into the sleep. You do not rest, making sure to keep a close eye on him, his breathing, his heart.

It's a miracle you can hear it over the sound of your own. But you must stay awake, to be sure, to make sure he is healing, improving.

Not that you could sleep if you wanted to, with the racing of your mind. His grip on your arm is not tight but it also doesn't waver in his slumber even once. "Moi sol ye tselai," you whisper, "I will stay, for as long as you want me to, I will stay." Even though he is asleep you daren't say the last part aloud.

Eya fyela chi.

For as long as you shall live.

#shadow and bone #six of crows #tolya #tolya x reader #tolya yul bataar #grishaverse #Spotify

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dreamtydraw · 2 months

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i cant think of a specific oc, so are there any little morsels of oc lore that youve been rotating in your mind that you wanna share? (i just woke up, sorry for the vague ask)

also a picture of my cat falling out of her bed (─‿‿─)♡

KITTY !!!!

Okay so i have this very precise oc lore regarding oc i’m sure most of you don’t know or remember and at best know nothing about but it’s the storie between Chinua and their guard. Had this event cooking in my mind with good luck babe singing in the background and i can’t find a good song to make an animatic out of it so bare with me-

Okay to re put the contexte Chinua is this person :

They are the lord that rule over a country where a very big amount of the population are psychist that can see invisible links like soulmates. This means that culturally a lot of people put A LOT of interest in finding soulmates and sharing your life ( and so everything you possess in life ) with «the right person ».

Here comes Chinua’s envy to rule alone. Chinua views emotions as weakness and being tied to someone else means exposing the risk of failure to them and being vulnerable in the positions they are in terrifies them. Thin is that despite their mindset they’re relationship with their main guard did a good drift between mutual trust to soul eating, mind plaguing, heartbreaking love for her. She’s competent, she’s with them everyday a every instant and Chinua is in a position of loneliness they trapped themselves in when they chose to hide everything about them.

No one knows their gender, real age, real name, nothing is known because they want to rule as a figure and not as a person but it’s getting harder and harder to not crave genuine human liking when someone is around you at every instant and you fee like they could know you the best and if she just asked words would spill out of your heart faster than you took you vow of isolation.

Thing is she’s not your soulmate, she never was and will never be because you see it, you see your red string not being linked to hers. Someone out here wants to love her like you do but how can they? No one can love her like you do but you can’t say it, you can’t say why and you know that the moment someone finds her at the end of their red string she’ll be gone. So you start being delusional. No one will ever show up, if they do she’ll dismiss them right? She has you, you are what she lives for, she’s devoted to you and your relationship must mean as much to her as it means to you right ?

So why didn't she understand why you killed this other woman in your apartment, the one sharing your string? Why didn’t she understand you did it for love, YOUR love? You fucked up, you fucked up and she still helps you hide the body, she still helps you clean your hands, she washes them so delicately and you know she’s not scared, she killed more people than you but she doesn’t want to admit. She doesn’t want to admit that you chose her. She thinks you got weak because of her and she’s right but you want her to accept it. Just accept that your feelings are this strong and that she has all the power over them, she’s being selfish by not giving you an answer.

Then one day she’s gone. She’s gone and you can’t breathe because you’re alone with a missing part of yourself. The worst is that you don’t even know if you got betrayed or if her running away is the confirmation of her feelings. You are haunted by your actions and you regret, you regret everything and you just wish you had accepted your faith with someone else because at least she would have still been there. You fucked up royally and no one can ever know it. So you fake it, like you faked everything.

No one knows about your real name, your real age, your gender or the woman you loved for years.

( okay the 4 am rambling needs to stop here cause idk if i’m making sense but this whole lore about Them has been COOKING and i needed to exteriorize it so thank you for this ask !!! )

#ask answer #dreamty’s ramble #oc solarian #my oc #chinua #oc lore

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allzelemonz · 1 year

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Blame, Consequence: Colm O’Driscoll X Male Reader

Pronouns: he/him, Reader is referred to as ‘man’ and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, dubcon Warnings: Dubious consent, O’Driscolls are their own warning, Reader is an O’Driscoll, power dynamics, power imbalance, manipulation, humiliation, cock shaming, exhibitionism, public sex, performance sex, oral sex, face fucking, praise Summary: You take the fall for a mistake made on a job, Colm feels like punishing you a bit differently than usual.

It’s Tommy’s fault. Most things are really. The man is an idiot, always has been and always will be. But Colm doesn’t like to admit his mistakes, and trusting the wrong man is a big mistake. So when the law came early and Tommy was clearly to blame due to his reckless way of handling the job, Colm blamed the first man he saw. The ride back to camp was fast, quiet, and full of tension. Everyone can feel it, they just don’t know who Colm will take it out on yet. There’s three of you aside from Tommy and Colm himself, all of you are equally likely targets. As you hitch the horses the three of you share a look, knowing two of you are probably going to have to hold the other while Colm beats them.

You just so happened to be the first man he sees.

“Declan, Billy.” Colm calls. “Bring your friend along.”

Billy follows the order, taking your arm. Declan gives you a sympathetic look first, but takes your other arm. The fear comes over you as they walk you into camp, you can’t help it. You’ve Colm do awful things to his own men, ones like you that have never crossed him or done a thing wrong. He tortures them anyway. They bring you to the middle of camp, just a few yards from the main fire, where Colm stands waiting patiently.

“Take his gun belt, Billy.” Colm instructs.

His voice is an eerie calm, his demeanor even more so. Colm isn’t really the type to yell, just the type to speak quietly and creepy before he kills without mercy. Billy carefully takes your weapons from you and looks to Colm for further instructions. Billy’s always been loyal, all three of you have, yet you’ve all taken beatings for nothing.

“You gonna behave yourself, boy?” Colm asks you.

You take a shaky breath, putting on a brave face. “Yes, boss.”

Colm waves Billy and Declan away, leaving you alone in the middle of a large circle of O’Driscolls. He doesn’t do this often, beat one of his men so publicly, but you’ve seen it before. You’re usually on the sides, watching the poor soul, but now it’s you. Colm’s eyes cut into you and it feels like your chest might cave in, all the eyes on you makes it much worse. Last time you took the fall for someone else's mistake Colm just beat you on the spot. Only Declan was there to see and it was just a few hits. You have the feeling this will be worse.

“Strip for me, boy.”

Colm’s order hangs in the air, far from what you expected. He’s beaten men to death, cut so far he hits bone, left men out to freeze overnight, but this is a first.

“Boss?” You ask, face twisting in confusion.

“Go on.” Colm nods, his hands resting on his gun belt as he stares holes into you.

You try to collect yourself, stay strong through whatever he has planned. You have no context for this. He’s taken a man’s shirt before so he could cut at his chest, but he’s never outright ordered a man to strip in front of the whole gang. His eyes stay fixed on you with a heavy stare as you bring your hands to the buttons of your shirt. He watches through the whole process and you try not to think about where you are. As the chilly air hits your skin, it’s hard to deny that you’re here, bare and exposed.

Colm hums, walking towards you. “You fellas think he’s impressive?”

You unconsciously try to cover yourself at the comment. A few shouts and whistles come from the gang, compliments and insults alike.

“Don’t be shy, boy.” Colm says as he stops about a foot away from you. “Not everybody can have somethin’ ta swing around. Somebody’s gotta be tiny.”

A heat comes over you and you can’t quite place if it’s embarrassment or rage. This is the punishment, calling your dick small? Like some twisted childhood bully. The beatings are starting to seem like the better option. Colm comes closer, his eyes raking your body in a way that makes you shiver more than the cold. He moves fast, harshly gripping your dick in his hand and holding it tight. Whispers from the gang fly around in your head as you try not to wince from the pain.

“I expected a little more.” Colm squeezes harder, pulling slightly. “This is just disappointin’.”

You don’t move, don’t react if you can help it. If you resist, you’re well aware you’ll die. But when you feel that ache, that growing feeling, you feel like death may be preferable.

Colm hums lowly. “Ya like this, boy?” His hand loosens a bit and he pumps you once, enough to make the ache worse. “Never took ya fer the type.”

“Boss, please.” You whisper, the air in your lungs running thin.

“Oh.” Colm chuckles. “I like that. Go on, boy, beg.”

You wince as he grips you tightly and tugs hard enough to pull you forward an inch. “Please.”

“Way I see it, boy, I got two options.” Colm whispers, a wicked smile on his face. “I can deal with ya here and you can spend the night in the cold or ya can impress me.”

“Impress you?”

“I beat ya.” Colm says, tugging at your dick again. “And I leave ya out here ta freeze or ya get on yer knees, show me what a loyal man ya are and ya can come warm my bed fer the night.”

You consider the options. You’ve been beaten my Colm before, left out in the cold too, but you have an option this time. Suck off your boss in front of the gang and you get to be in a warm tent with a nice bed. Sleeping with Colm might not be so bad. He’s relatively easy on the eyes, strong, suave. Maybe he’d like you, remember you and not blame you for someone else’s mistakes again.

“I’ll do whatever you want, boss.” You say, voice shaky.

Colms hums, releasing his hold on you. “Go on then. Impress me.”

You sink to your knees and try to ignore the calls and whistles from the gang. It occurs to you that you may never hear the end of this. Everyone you see on a daily basis is watching, including those you half-way consider friends. They’ll talk about this forever, call you a whore and a million other names, but it’s too late now. You look up and meet Colm’s piercing eyes as they cut all the way to your soul, bringing a guttural feeling of fear to you.

So you focus on the task your boss has given you. Impress him. You unfasten his pants and pull out his surprisingly hard dick. He’s enjoyed this, watching you squirm and making you submit. Of course he got off on it. You run your thumb over his tip, spreading the precum and earning a slight hiss from your boss. You’re not sure if it’s reassuring or frightening, knowing he wants this and that he’s enjoying it. You swallow the nerves and ignore your own aching need as you lick a slow stripe up the underside before taking him in your mouth.

Your ears fill with comments from the crowd, whistles, a few calling you a whore, obscenities you’d rather not think about. You try to focus as you take as much of your boss as you can, fitting your hands around what you can’t fit. Colm is long, real long. Slowly, as your heart beats out of your chest, you begin to bob your head. Colm’s hand grips at your hair and you try not to think about anything but getting the job done, making him unravel hard and in record time.

Spit begins to trickle down to your chin as you pick up the pace. But before you can do much, Colm puts his other hand in your hair and takes your control away. His fingers grip tight and it stings as he starts to use you. You let your hands fall to your side, submitting like you’re sure Colm wants. He fucks your face at a punishing pace as the gang whistles and jeers. You have to put everything you have into controlling your gag reflex as Colm’s long dick slides in and out at a harsh pace. Keeping your eyes closed, you try to be what Colm wants, a submissive warm mouth for him to punish. You can’t feel your own ache anymore, there’s too much pain in your jaw and throat to feel much pleasure from this. When he releases, it’s without warning, fast, and sudden. For an older guy, it’s impressive that he used you as long as he did and it’s even more impressive that his stream of seed seems never ending as it goes down your throat. Even when he pulls out, it’s still strong and he aims it to cover your skin. The feeling of the sticky cum landing over your face, neck, and chest is unpleasant given your context, but you sit and let Colm do what he wants.

You blink your eyes open slowly, thankful what landed on your face is restricted to your chin. Colm fastens his pants, looking down at you darkly. The surrounding gang murmurs, all wondering if Colm’s done with you. Some of them want to go to bed and be done with it, others want to see more.

Colm grunts as he squats in front of you and takes your chin in his hand, looking over his work. “Such a pretty boy, ain’t ya?”

You try to hold his gaze, not wanting to seem weak, but it’s so heavy and cutting that you have to look down. His grip on your chin doesn’t make things easier as it accentuates the pain in your jaw.

“You been real good, boy.” Colm hums. “Real good.”

You shutter a bit at his words. “T-thanks, boss.”

His hand grips your face, making an unflattering squish of your skin. “Good with a gun, pretty on yer knees, I ain’t sure which I like more.”

He releases your face and holds his hand in front of your mouth, a bit of his cum having rubbed onto it from his hold on you. You glance between his hand and his face, reading what he wants before you carefully lick the cum away. Colm smiles, tilting his head as he watches you.

“You.” He groans, deep in the back of his throat. “Are gonna keep my bed warm fer a long time, darlin’. How’s that sound? My own little whore.”

Your heart races, a mix of fear and the lingering excitement that still aches, hard against your stomach. “Whatever you want, boss. I’ll, uh, I’ll do whatever you want.”

Colm grins, sickly and twisted. “Ain’t ya sweet. Loyal little thing.”

He offers you a hand and you take it, allowing him to pull you up. The surrounding gang is quiet now, waiting for Colm’s next orders. He snaps his fingers in Billy’s direction, holding his hand out for your gun belt. Billy scrambles towards him, handing it over and returning to his spot in the crowd as quickly as he can. Colm runs his hands over your belt, the thing that shows your status as a gunslinger along with the O’Driscoll green mask lying with your clothes in the dirt a few feet away.

“We’re done here!” Colm shouts to the gang and they disburse without question as he holds out your belt to you. “Get yer things, darlin’. You got a long night ahead a’ ya.”

His grin sends a shiver up your spine. He turns towards his tent, taking his time to saunter. You gather your clothes from the ground, not bothering to dress because you know Colm will only make you remove them when you arrive at his tent. You still have that ache, burning now, and you wonder if Colm will give you any attention or if he’ll just fuck you for his own end. There’s no telling given his unpredictable nature so far tonight. You clutch your mess of clothes close and you walk to the boss’s tent, hoping for the best.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #colm o'driscoll #colm o'driscoll x reader #colm o'driscoll x male reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader

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reptilian-angel · 2 years

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HuskerDust Week 2023 - “Over The Bartop”

Day One: Smoke/Shot

Things were simple between Angel and Husk. Or as simple as they could be given the circumstances, at least.

As most that resided in Hell, they learned fairly quickly that exposure of themselves, weakness shown in any shape or form, would quickly be met with manipulation, cruelty or outright violence. As sinners indebted to powerful and malicious Overlords, they already knew the cost of such a mistake. And neither were eager for a repeat experience.

Sure, they were tough bastards in their own right. Husk could chug an entire galleon’s worth of ale and still be as ferocious and deadly as the cat creature his damned soul was changed into. And Angel? Well, however strained his relationship was with his crime family in life, Angel had learned enough to know when to rely on on the charms of pretty words or the glint shining off of his tommy gun. Despite their chains and shackles, they could do damn well enough to rattle and shake them towards any who doubted their will to survive.

All that in mind, with all the pain and anguish and lies and backstabbings they had endured, suffering one heartbreak to the next until there was almost no heart left, one would think that when both Barcat and Porn Star found themselves guests at “Happy” Hotel, they would be smart enough not to allow themselves to get close to one another.

And they would be right. They didn’t.

Because, honestly how stupid did you have to be to give someone your complete trust in Hell? (Angel’s friendship with Cherri notwithstanding.) Not them!

So sure, they bantered at first, - Or rather Angel flirted with Husk, only to be quickly rebuffed in favor of the cheap booze he was gulping down like water. - but that was that. Neither doubted they would see each other much after that anyway, and that suited them just fine. They had no interest in getting any closer than two demons should.

. . . . At least at first.

It started small. Angel would grab a seat at the bar and order whatever drink was appropriate with a wink and barely veiled innuendo and Husk, through a annoyed eye roll, was quick to make it. If he wasn’t in a hurry to get to work or meet up with Cherri, Angel made a point to savor the drink and deliver a compliment to the barely sober cat after, with an offer to “return the favor for a discount”. Husk either ignored him or flipped him off, to which the Spider laughed off as he flounced away.

And on the rare occasions Husk felt stir-crazy enough to leave front desk/bar and head up the roof for a cigar or cigarette, nine times out of ten, Angel would be there with half a pack in one hand while a lighter was flicked on and off repeatedly in another and a lit stick was held tight against his frowning mouth. Without a word, Husk would join him after a moment and simply sit on the closest discarded box he saw and light up his own cancer stick, neither savoring nor resenting the silence between them as they smoked. Rinse and repeat, the cycle went on without change.

And that was that.

Over time, however, drinks and smokes in passing started to become . . . More.

Angel had wide range of tastes in drinks that went to sweet and fruity to hard as liquid fire depending on his mood. Whether he just got done with a therapy session from the Princess or being chewed out by her girlfriend/manager, or of course, just before heading out to his job at the studio, Angel knew how to curb the itch of addiction with something aside from the powder and pills that both elated him and damned him.

Much to Angel’s delight, Husk’s talents was made clear in the preparation of each drink and he never hesitated to make his satisfaction known with each glass prepped and served. The Spider kept the Barcat on his toes, hardly ordering the same drink twice in a row and Husk found himself mildly appreciating the variety. Even more so when he was capable of knocking back some of the harder types of liquor that made even Husk’s fur bristle on a good day. Maybe because Angel reacted just as much the same with the fluff of his chest rippling and puffing nearly out of his designer jacket, despite every attempt to hide it and play it off.

Husk had long since preferred the comforts of the bottle both in life and death, at times smelling strong enough of booze that it wouldn’t come as a surprise that if some poor bastard lit a match, the air around him would combust (As gleefully stated from Alastor with his usual razor tooth smile that made Husk instantly make mind to keep far Far FAR away from any fireplaces in the future). That wasn’t to say the Husk didn’t appreciate the less than potent comforts of tobacco and nicotine, or the occasional hit of marijuana now and again.

The potency of “medical” grasses were a bit dizzying without some form of defense, but thankfully Husk found that his many, many years of boozing had helped him develop a kind of strange immunity to the mind-tampering effects of indulging on such. His resilience both annoyed and impressed Angel when he felt generous enough to share some of his personal stock that he tried like, well, Hell to keep hidden from Charlie and Vaggie. Thankfully, Husk didn’t believe in being a snitch, as that would violate his position as a trusted barkeep and kept his secret safe. Although he did feel strongly tempted to once when Angel decided to be a jackass and gave him a joint made out of catnip . . .

Simple quick drinks and bumming smokes in short greetings and momentary encounters slowly turned to nursing shot glasses and sharing cigarettes absently as the addicts talked long into the night.

Jokes and old embarrassing stories toward their bosses were spoken easily between them; Husk scoring a genuine laugh out of Angel once or twice that left a nice bubbling warmth inside him that had nothing to do with alcohol and Angel trying his damnedst to hide the flush when the Older Sinner gave a smile that reminded him all too well of butterflies felt in his youth.

Other times there were moments that had nothing but complete silence that spoke volumes; of the humiliation and hurt that either Angel had undergone on the clock or off, or that Husk was dealt from being made the Radio Demon’s errand boy, simple matchsticks and shots of vodka handled between them with no wards.

There were also the really bad times when beaten and battered by the forces of the cesspit of sin they resided in, they reluctantly took what comforts were offered; the Spider reluctantly allowing the Barcat to patch up the viscous cuts and burns on his back after a particularly bad day with Valentino with gauze and balms, and Husk “allowing” the Porn Star’s treasured pet pig in his lap as Angel tended to the gunshot wound on his arm that Alastor had deemed “unnecessary” to worry about. Depending on the situation, anything from joints to shots of gut-burning whiskey was offered and taken without question.

And other times, something rare and sweet and totally unexpected found itself budding between them when small, soft fingertips brushed against sharp tempered claws when Angel handed Husk a glass to be refilled, the tingle dutifully, but not really, ignored. Or when Husk offered the lit end of a cigarette to light Angel’s when his lighter refused to flicker to life, the glow accenting his glowing eyes pinpricking in his mind the whole night after. Or when Husk got one over Angel when, again offered the catnip joint, he retaliated by using what little magic he had to disguise a Christmas cracker as a “specially made” cigar and busting up into belly-aching laughter. Angel, pissed off and covered in glitter and confetti from the toy, couldn’t find it in him to tell him off, but found something twisted and sore in his fluffy chest go funny at the luscious sound.

And finally, one night, all glasses and joints and cigarettes were left completely forgotten when a rosy-cheeked, brightly smiling Angel Dust allowed a just as red Husker to carry him up to the cat’s room like a blushing bride, neither being seen again until the late morning after.

Things were simple between Angel and Husk. Or as simple as they could be given the circumstances, at least.

Two sinners in Hell, addicts to their own vices, grossly complicated in both their lives and themselves.

But they made it work. Through the good and bad, they made it work. Each shot and smoke at a time.

—————

Whew! My very first Huskerdust fic! Hella of a way to get back into the groove of writing again before trying to tackle Hidden in the Stars again - I shall my best to get the rest of the prompts done on time!

(I’m kinda stuck on the next prompt so, fingers crossed!) All comments are appreciated, but as this my first story for this pairing, please be gentle!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #husk #angel dust #huskerdust #Huskerdust Week 2023 #my fanfiction #no dialogue #tw: abuse #tw: drugs #tw: marijuana

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gccdstories · 8 months

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//updated version haha//

He laughed, pressing a kiss to her neck. His fingers running up her side. She hummed, twisting to straddle him and kiss him hard.

"I'm serious, I outrank you here. Stay."

His eyes softened and he dragged her into deep kiss, fingers curling into her hair.

"You know I can't Starshine. It's just two weeks and then I'll see you again."

He fought to keep his voice steady, allowing their souls to touch, the things the Leyline Delta had shown them....

Fates, was this what his parents and Xaden felt? It was as terrifying as he'd imagined it to be.

How did they get anything done?

He held her chin, pressing soft kisses all over her face before she hid her face in his chest.

So shy, his mate.

He beamed, she must have seen his joy looking at him in awe. She leaned up to kiss him, only pulling apart when they heard the knock.

"You need to smile more, I like it."

The smirk wasn't as cutting as usual.

"So if I'm in your court I'm at your beck and call then? Does that mean in mine -"

------

They'd said their more private goodbyes this morning. Still, he felt like a pit was forming, he barely payed attention to his brothers ribbing.

He was sure they'd been doing that all morning especially Aza and Sasha.

The sudden silence finally forced him to turn from the waiting carriages. Alusina stood with her grandmother and sister. They moved toward each other, their guards staying back to give them privacy.

She looked far more composed, he was selfishly thankful. If she'd asked him again to stay he would have.

Fates, he would have given her the moon if she'd asked for it.

What was happening to him? Was this love? He felt like he was drowning and flying at -

You're brooding again Your Highness.

His eyes light up, the connection was so easy to use.

Are you ordering me not to Your Grace?

She made a face and rolled her eyes.

If I did would you listen to me?

No. But maybe if you'd asked me like you had this morning -

"Alaric!"

He smirked, closing the distance on impulse. His fingers pushed the hair behind her ear. He could feel the moment she melted.

And damn did it feel good to have someone trust hands that were stained with so much blood.

"Yes Alusina?"

She valiantly fought off the blush but he still saw it over the powders and cosmetics she wore.

She brushed his hand away and stepped back.

"Go back to your little ship husband."

He rolled his eyes turning on his heel to walk past his brothers.

He could feel their stares and their iron will not to make a scene. He knew it was going to be bad if Aleksander and Azriel were actually agreeing with each other.

Alusina exhaled and turned away, meeting Alina's eyes. The hope, hadn't she been the one who kept insisting this could be good?

That's basically all she'd told her of their night together. And now he was going to be gone for two weeks and she swallowed shattered pieces of her heart.

She'd survived a war, she'd survived so much death. Why was this the thing that made her feel like crying?

She bit her lip, watching him walk away, he was shaking his head at something Xaden was hissing.

So he hadn't told them either.

She should end this on a dignified note like her grandmother would want. Sure there was no courtiers here but the staff would talk.

She should turn away, her resolve broke when he glanced back at her.

She ran to him, reaching for his collar. Her grip tight as she leaned up into his space.

Safe.

He was safe.

The last time she'd felt anything close to that her parents had been alive.

"You better be alive when I see you in two weeks."

She wanted to kiss him, wanted a genuine private moment but She settled for that.

For now.

He wasn't sure if he liked it or hated it, this feeling that had overtaken him. The way she felt in his arms, the way he'd do anything and everything for her without barely a second thought. It was both the most powerful he'd ever felt and the most vulnerable, the most powerless.

It was downright terrifying!

Walking away from her, it was impossible. Each step towards his brothers, towards the harbor, had him almost itching to turn back, like he was going in the wrong direction. He shouldn't be leaving her-- And yet he knew that he had to.

They both had their own responsibilities, and that wasn't changing (even if the feelings had).

That look back over his shoulder as he ignored Xaden's hissed words was all Alaric was going to allow himself. Just a look, a glance. One more meeting of their eyes with a promise to see each other again and that two weeks wasn't a long time at all--

Until she came running towards him, and he turned and walked the distance back to her. Her hands gripping his collar, Alaric breathed in her scent. It grounded him, it gave him a feeling he'd never, ever felt before.

❝ The same goes for you. I'd hate to lose you already. ❞

@siderealxmelody

#asks ;; leave a message for the muses #siderealxmelody #muse ;; alaric

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microphone-invasion · 2 years

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Chapter 9: The Final Battle pt.3

The Imitator/Edison: No need to thank me, and now time to explain to the heroes of the universe, cause they’re probably confused about what's going on. I’m gonna need help to explain this.

???? ?????: I can help!

Keith: …Who are you?

???? ?????: The other dimension copy of you. It's weird. I’m you, but like a demon, except I'm not a demon.

The Imitator/Edison: Yep, that guys right, now let me explain to the others, while you guys make an introduction, see ya.

Narrator: Then the Alternate version of the Imitator left the pocket dimension to the battle buddies.

Keith: Can you just tell me who you are? Since you said that you’re me.

Soul Keith: THE SOUL VS. OF YOU. DID I ALREADY SAY THAT?

Keith: This is cringe. Imma teleport to my father. Peace OUT.

Narrator: Then Keith teleported to where the Battle Buddies were.

The Imitator/Edison: Well, can you help me by explaining to everyone on this ship, and what’s going on?

Soul Keith: Sure… I guess… I’ve come to realize something though…

The Imitator/Edison: Talk about that later, let me clean up some misinformation.

Narrator: Then the Alternate version of the Imitator explained everyone in the main world.

Black Imposter: So, you’re a different version of our villain here, right?

The Imitator/Edison: Yep, it’s confusing but this is the last chapter, so, who cares.

Black Imposter: Alright… now that you’re here, what do you call you now?

Garcello: Who IS this?

Edison: Well, just call me Edison, Garcello. I’m an alternate version of your villain.

Garcello: Wait. Then, where’s the REAL version of the Imitator?

Edison: Back at his base, like normal as always, testing out a clone machine.

Garcello: Huh. Interesting.

Edison: I know it’s confusing, but I managed to get Keith here, stronger than ever. Now if you excuse me, I’ll go find Lucy while you both chat.

Black Imposter: Well, this will help us win, gonna talk to Green, he has enough brain power to understand this “universe travel” thing.

Green: On it! l’ll see if I can get results.

Keith: Just hurry, ok? We don’t have much time left.

Soul Keith: For what?

Keith: Before the Imitator TAKES OVER OUR TOWN!

Soul Keith: Oh. Well, let’s kill that BOZO!

Edison: Most likely THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE!

Keith: Oh god… -forehead slap-

Soul Keith: Smooth, and classic.

Edison: Why not save the trouble by just teleporting.

Garcello: -pulls out a mic- I think we can handle this.

Edison: Alright, but don’t get cocky, he can wipe you out in an instant, not me of course, because I’m basically him. So, yeah.

Soul Keith: I can beat him any day! Just with enough coffee. I need my coffee. -Takes out electric guitar- I got this! With coffee. -drinks coffee- Much better.

Black Imposter: Goofy ahh guitar.

Tomongus: This is no time for jokes! This is a do or die situation!

Black Imposter: Fine.

Edison: Let’s get started. But first, we need more people to fight him. Luckily, I got a person I can call.

Narrator: Then Edison called Moisty.

Moisty: I’m here! What do you need?

Edison: Well, we need help to defeat the Imitator. not me, so that’s why I called you. Call others if you can to help us.

Moisty: You look like an exact replica of the Imitator.

Edison: I’m an alternate version of the Imitator.

Soul Keith’s mind: Who is she? I might call someone too…

Narrator: Then someone ELSE comes from the same direction.

Liam: FINE. Only for the donuts that you promised.

Moisty: LIAM? And, what donuts?

Soul Keith: I promised donuts at the end of this madness.

Edison: Well, at least he can help us.

Moisty: Are you kidding? He can barely do ANYTHING!

Soul Keith: Actually, yeah, you’re right. Partly. There’s something you don't know about him…

Edison: Well, I can give him upgrad- oh yeah, I forgot to mention, I can give people upgrades to help them in battle

Moisty: Please don’t help him. He’s fine as he is now.

Liam: Trust me, I'm fine. I don't need upgrades, I think. Also, I’m NOT spoiling the thing I can do.

Edison: Alright then, let’s get started -plays epic battle music-.

Narrator: The two broke into a fight. The ACTUAL Imitator had imitated Garcello, since he wanted revenge.

Garcello (The Imitator): You made the job way easier than expected.

Garcello: What the– ?

Edison: STOP! JUST STOP! GET SOME THERAPY!

Liam: EXACTLY!

Garcello (The Imitator): What in the world are you, and why are you me?

Liam: NOT EXACTLY! Actually, I don't know. I’ve only been here for 2 minutes and this is already confusing.

Edison: Well, let’s get this over with.

Narrator: Then Edison starts fighting the Imitator and manages to get him out of the Garcello form.

The Imitator: What the– ?

#Microphone Invasion #Book 1 #writing from the back porch #fnf au #friday night funkin au #fnf garcello #boga

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bubbledumbbinch · 3 years

Text

Yandere! Idia Shroud x Camgirl! Reader SMUT

A/N: Hello! This is my first fic I've posted on tumblr, and I'm not used to using it at all. I hope this turned out okay and you enjoy! This is a College AU, implied magicless world, and reader is a camgirl.

This fic is purely 18+, minors do not interact.

Word Count: ~4.4k

Warnings: dubcon, brief mention of blood, non consensual drug use (aphrodisiacs)

Friday night, 11:24pm, 6 minutes before your scheduled time to start “work”. You had just finished putting on your makeup and outfit, now trying to hype yourself up in the mirror.

'I can do this. This is gonna be a great show!' You told yourself, while staring at your reflection wearing the revealing outfit. Tonight’s choice was a catgirl maid costume; the maid dress just barely covering your body and showing a large amount of chest. A choker with a bell on it, cat ears, and thigh high socks.

Giving yourself a nod of encouragement, you sat down in the chair in front of your desk, where your laptop and webcam were situated, along with your ring lights, one at each side of the desk so you were well lit for the camera. Making sure you were logged into the site, your camera angle looked good, and your laptop was charging, you waited.

You loved your side gig as a camgirl. You were able to appeal to multiple people’s sexual desires while also being able to bring yourself to pleasure, sometimes more than once per stream, if there were enough donations of course. You were also able to make a decent amount of money while doing this side job, paying for college while having fun was a pretty big plus. And, if you were gonna be honest, the validation of being attractive to so many people really made you feel a lot better about yourself.

You quickly noticed your clock switch to 11:30pm. Time to start. You clicked on the set of buttons you pretty much knew by heart to get the show started. Once it did, you started up some music to fill the silence. Just some cute electronic music to dance in your chair to while you wait for the viewers to come in. You didn’t really have as many as the big camgirls but you had a few loyal people come and watch your streams, which set your heart at ease.

5 viewers

cay-kun @ 11:31pm: wooow y/n-chan, you look so cute! excited for tonight’s show~

User18535 @ 11:32pm: fuck you’re so goddamn cute, i love your tits. can’t wait to see what that pussy looks like

10 viewers

You playfully giggled while reading the last message, winking and sticking your tongue out while flashing the camera your panties from under your skirt. While waiting for more people to join, you also made a point to talk to your viewers, asking about their day and what they’ve been up to recently, which they loved you for.

25 viewers

User58273 @ 11:34pm: You look so kawaii, I wish I could have you service me.

40 viewers

Glancing at the viewer count, you decide to officially start.

“Hi hiii~ I’m so happy to see you all here tonight! Let’s have some fun, hmm?” you started playfully. “Do you guys like my outfit?” Messages of “yes” and “yeah baby”s began flooding the chat and you grinned. “Well, I have something that will be a real treat for you all~”

You reached over to grab something that couldn’t be seen by the camera or the viewers.

~~~~~

Idia was browsing through the site full of nude streamers, trying to find a person to watch so he could relieve his tension from this week. It was midterms season and his Computer Science teachers were giving him hell by making him do in person presentations, exams, and assignments that kept piling up. It took a lot of time away from gaming and side projects of coding his own programs. He also unfortunately didn’t have his little brother Ortho with him in college, as the university didn’t allow them both to attend “as one student”. Ortho definitely eased some stress as someone he could trust and talk to, but Idia’s parents decided to keep Ortho at home to “prevent Idia from being distracted”, much to his dismay.

Idia was at least blessed to not have a roommate, so he could at least have his own privacy for nights like this. Idia’s eyes landed on a thumbnail of a girl that was dressed in cat ears and a lewd maid outfit and was intrigued. He clicked on the video icon and was met with your figure bent so that your ass was up and legs were spread on the chair you were previously sitting on. The girl on the stream had her panties down to her knees and was currently lubing up a cat tail butt plug.

“Ah, I’ve never used this before so, bear with me, please!” She pleaded, eyes looking directly at the camera. Idia was intrigued now this was her first time using it. He felt like this was perfect timing, almost like she was doing it just for him. Until he saw the comments flooding in from different people who were probably thinking the same way.

“Put it in already”

“Go slow okay~”

“don’t force yourself if you don’t want to! >//<”

“Tch,” Idia scoffed to himself. “Seems like she has simps already. No use in being interested in someo-“

“H- here it goes!” You moaned, starting to slowly shove the length and girth of the butt plug into your tight hole. “Aaanh~ it’s stretching me out...” Your eyes pricked with tears while your face contorted into pure pleasure with a hint of pain, all while staring at the camera. Every so often he could hear the little jingle from the bell on your choker.

Idia felt his pants getting tighter and his palms were starting to sweat. The face you made at him was just too unreal and he needed more. He palmed at his growing erection while you shivered at the feeling of being filled by the toy. Pulling his sweatpants down to his ankles, he started stroking his cock lightly.

cay-kun @ 11:38pm: oh y/n-chan the way that stretches out your hole is so sexy~ definitely taking a screenshot for later!

User39748 @ 11:38pm: SHIT i wish i was there fucking you with that in your ass

Blushing, you turned around so that one of your legs were in the chair while your other was up, effectively showing the camera a view of your pussy and butt plug. “What do you want me to do? I’ll just play with myself until someone makes a donation and tells me what I should do! Highest bidder within the next minute~.” With that, you looked into the camera again while soaking your middle and ring fingers with saliva and bringing them to your clit, rubbing small circles into it.

Idia realized that, even now, he wanted to have some kind of control over you. He had a lot of disposable income, being from a pretty rich family. The blue haired boy grabbed his credit card and began to type.

Ignia has donated $100!

Your eyes widened and you gasped slightly. Idia bit his bottom lip at the sight. “Ah, Ignia! Thank you for the donation, you’re new here! Welcome, what would you like to see me do~?” You smiled while looking at the camera. Idia felt like you were staring into his soul and he was sweating profusely. He thought for a minute, gulped, and decided to send a message.

Ignia @ 11:43pm: I want you to keep watching my messages and do what I say, kitten. First I want you to grab a vibrating dildo if you have one and put it at the lowest setting, then fuck yourself slowly with it.

Idia would never have the balls to be this bold with anybody. But this is the internet, so fuck it, he’ll be truthful and just say what he wanted.

You nodded and proceeded to grab one from the table of toys you had next to your desk, lubed it slightly, and did what he told you to. You moaned at the intrusion and the feeling of being filled. “Mmh, it feels so good..!” You cried out.

Ignia has donated $50!

Ignia @ 11:45pm: And by the way, call me Master. You don’t get to cum until I say so.

You shivered at this stranger’s boldness and quietly spoke, “Yes, master...” you looked away shyly from the camera and closed your eyes for a minute, thrusting the vibrating device in and out of your wetness. A couple of moans slipped through your mouth as you felt your juices spreading onto your legs.

Ignia @ 11:47pm: Faster. Fuck yourself faster for me, kitten, and put it on the medium setting for me.

You did as you were told, fingers trembling to follow what the stranger had told you. Your (h/c) hair was starting to feel moist from your layer of sweat and your body was heating up, causing your breasts to stick to the costume.

Ignia @ 11:49pm: Take your tits out and play with your nipples

You panted heavily and lowered your chest area’s covering, revealing the sheen of sweat around your tits. Flicking your left nipple while working the dildo with your right, your hands were occupied with pleasing yourself as this stranger commanded, moaning out. “Aah, m-master, f-feels so go-ood~!”

Idia was smirking, stroking hard at his cock at the sight and idea of you actually doing what he said almost made him cum then and there, but he stopped himself. He couldn’t help the rapid beating of his heart when you said the last sentence. Idia felt special. The power he had over you was addicting and he wanted to see you push yourself over the edge under his command.

65 viewers

User58273: Fuck this is so hot, I wish I could be your master too

Seeing this comment somehow made Idia seethe. He didn’t want to share you, even though this was his first stream with you. You made him feel special. He started typing out his draft of what to reply to the thirsty viewers.

Draft: Ignia: You stupid bastards, no, I’m not going to share her.

Before Idia could send the message you spoke up in a moaning voice. “*pant* N-no, my master tonight is I-Ignia, haanh~”. You were still playing with your nipples while fucking yourself well with the dildo, a light blush decorated your face and beads of sweat starting to form on the sides of your face and your body.

Idia’s jaw dropped. ‘Does she actually really want me?’ He was getting hot, too hot for his own comfort. Usually he wouldn’t last this long during his sessions but he really wanted to see you fall apart under his command. He paid for it, after all.

“Master~ I’m getting close, I- I wanna cum soon!” You whined, pleading (e/c) orbs staring into the camera with your mouth open from panting heavily.

“Cum already, don’t hold yourself back”

“Just keep going babygirl”

“Let yourself cum”

Once again, Idia scoffed in annoyance, but he noticed you never acknowledged any of the other commenters, waiting patiently for the words to come from him.

Ignia @ 11:55pm: put the toy at the highest setting, fuck yourself til you cum, then keep pumping it while you ride out your climax.

Upon seeing those words, your fingers work to put your toy at the highest setting inside your dripping cunt. You closed your eyes while you try to imagine the user who was giving out the commands, imagining them slapping your ass and fucking you until you could see stars. The feeling of both of your holes being filled was overwhelming now, and the hot feeling built up in your core faster than you realized. Idia could see it too, the heaving of your chest was picking up rapidly.

“M-,, ma- master.! I’m cumming!!!” You shrieked. Closing your eyes with your tongue unintentionally lolling out, you released a silent scream as soon as your orgasm hit. It felt like a knot inside of your body had come undone suddenly. Your orgasm had your pussy clenching around the toy that was still vibrating intensely inside of you, stimulating you longer and making you release high pitched screams.

Hearing your words before cumming had Idia teetering on the edge, but watching your facial expressions and your moans made him finish suddenly with a grunt, his pale cock spurting thick white cum all over his hand. Still, Idia kept stroking his length while you were riding out your high, overstimulating himself to match your actions on the stream.

You pulled out the toy weakly and turned it off, putting it down on a towel next to your desk.

Ignia has donated $5!

Ignia @ 11:59pm: Spread your pussy lips babygirl, I wanna see your tight hole.

User39748 @ 11:59pm: I agree with Ignia

cay-kun @ 12:00am: ah~ I also agree. Let’s see you spread it, hmm~? Oh, can you also do a lil ‘nya!’?

You checked the chat and blushed heavily, post-orgasm shyness now taking over your mind. You hesitantly shifted in the chair while spreading yourself open with your pointer and middle finger, showing off your glistening folds with your lightly abused hole. “Nya...” you held up your other hand to do the signature “catgirl” pose, playfully sticking your tongue out too.

Idia was cleaning himself off but he could feel himself twitch again, staring at your meek form. You were so gorgeous and he really wanted to see more of you, making sure to press the “Follow” button, so he wouldn’t miss another stream.

After a few seconds, you decide to end your show, feeling extremely tired and needing a shower from sweating so much. “Thank you so so much for joining me tonight! I hope you guys have a wonderful rest of your evening~ take care and I hope to see you all soon!”

Small tips ranging between $1-$10 started to flow in along with messages of “take care~” “see you soon!” “great show baby ;)”.

You clicked off and you sighed deeply. Looking at your earnings tonight, you made around $200. This was probably the most you’ve made in one single stream, and $155 of that was from Ignia, a new follower and the one who pretty much commanded your entire show tonight. It really turned you on to have someone do that for you and it was the first time a viewer made you do something that felt so lewd that made you cum so quickly.

You stood up from the chair, cleaned up your desk and toys, and headed for the bathroom. Taking off your makeup in the sink, you jumped into the shower to clean yourself up.

~~~~~

Idia tentatively bit his shirt sleeve, his blue locks framing his face. Something inside of him told him that he needed to talk to you more. He had already typed out a message to send along with his friend request. He was scared - scared of being rejected by someone as pretty as you, especially now that he had already felt so attached to you, or rather, what he’s seen from the stream tonight.

Yellow eyes closed tightly as he clicked to send the friend request to you.

~~~~~

Jumping out of the shower, you throw on a head and body towel and started to brush your teeth. Walking around the room you realized your laptop was still on, and there was a notification box front and center. Curious, you clicked on it.

“One new friend request and message”.

“Friend Request: Ignia

Message: Hey, this is the user from your stream earlier. I just wanted to say I really enjoyed your stream tonight. You seem nice too, so I’d like to get to know you more. If you’re interested just feel free to add me back, no pressure ofc.

Thx

Ignia”

You blinked a few times, pondering what you should do. You had gotten messages from guys before but they only said cheap compliments and asking for private shows. You were single so there wasn’t anybody holding you down and this guy didn’t seem to radiate any bad vibes. His dominant nature over chat really turned you on and you were curious about him, so you decided to accept his friend request and send a reply.

“From: y/n-kitty-cat

Hi there :) I decided to accept your message, cause why not? You shouldn’t be that creepy, right? ;P anyway, I’m glad you enjoyed my stream tonight <3 I hope you can come to future ones too!! I’d like to see you around more ;)

❤️

y/n”

You sent the message and went to the bathroom to finish brushing your teeth and your other nightly routines.

Idia couldn’t believe his eyes - you had actually messaged him back and you were really flirtatious!! That meant he was different in your eyes, right? It has to be true! He was determined to meet up with you, eventually. His dick throbbed at the idea of having you to himself, pleasing him with your mouth, doing all those lewd faces you made on the stream... his mind wandered while he pushed his pants down once again and thought of his muse who was now his “friend”.

~~~~~

After a few days of messaging back and forth, you and Ignia had ended up exchanging numbers and using text to communicate almost daily. You found out things like what your majors in college were, finding out his real name was Idia, which was a pretty unique name, and realizing you were both from the same city. Well, it’s not like Idia hadn’t already done his research - the night he became your friend he had stalked all of your social medias under a throwaway account and scrolled through every photo and bit of information he could find about you. He was becoming so hyper fixated on you he needed to know more, who could blame him? Idia just hoped he would be seeing more of you in your streams so he could watch you get off again, maybe with his assistance.

Unfortunately for you though, you realized you couldn’t stream as much because midterms were also kicking your ass. You apologized to your viewers with a blog post who luckily understood and wished you luck, saying they looked forward to your next show.

Idia couldn’t see your pretty face from the stream, which made him yearn. He told Ortho about his crush on you and when the small boy told Idia to “just tell you the truth and meet up with you!” he wanted to shut down completely. But, he wasn’t completely opposed to the idea of you being in his room, exactly where he wanted you. Sighing, he picked up his phone to send you a text.

Idia: “hey”

Y/n: “hey there! 😉”

Idia: “soo i was wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime”

Y/n: “omg 😱 like irl? I’ve never even heard your voice before lol”

Idia: “ik, i’m a bit shy in person.”

Y/n: “i see, so is the life of a gamer and a shut in?😏😂”

Idia: “hah, yeah i guess lol”

Y/n: “soo, what did you wanna do?”

Idia: “idk, anything you want. Except go outside. And be in public.”

Y/n: “pfft, that takes away like any idea at this point HAHA”

Idia: “ya lol i prefer gaming in my room tbh”

Y/n: “oh, then maybe we can just hang out and play games or something like that?”

Idia: “Yeah, why don’t you come over to my dorm, we could game and eat snacks”

Y/n: “Sounds great! This Friday then, 6pm?”

Idia: “Sure i’ll text you the details later”

Y/n: “Awesome :) see you in a couple days then ;)”

Idia: “cool”

Idia threw himself on his bed and screamed silently into the pillow. Idia wanted more than to just be your friend but unfortunately was also extremely shy, especially when talking to new people in person. But as he was sexually attracted to you, he knew he would have a hard time hiding it from you. He had hoped to initiate some kind of sexual interaction when you met up, wanting to indulge in your sinful reactions himself. He didn’t even want to think about anybody else seeing you like that. Idia was growing possessive and realized that if he were to get you where he wanted you, he needed to do a little bit of digging. Which meant searching the web for something that would help make you more agreeable to something sexual. He knew he himself couldn’t make you agree to it, he was too nervous to initiate that! He knew what he needed - an aphrodisiac.

Composing himself, he got onto his computer and compared his options as well as looking for advice on how to please a woman. His eyes widened and lips trembled as he realized he was definitely way too shy to initiate as much as other men do, but he was determined to try anything if it meant your attention.

~~~~~

Today was finally Friday, and the current time was 5:30pm. You styled your (h/c) locks and put on a light amount of makeup, not as much as you would when you streamed but enough to make yourself feel pretty. You also decided that you still wanted to be cute, even if you and Idia were just friends at this point, and wore a tight crop top, a high waisted black skirt, and some thigh high socks since it was a bit breezy outside. You topped it all off with a (f/c) cardigan so you could at least feel comfortable in the sleeves. Packing your bag, you took one last look at yourself in the mirror, did a little peace sign and smiled, feeling cute as hell. You grabbed your keys and walked out of your dorm, heading towards Idia’s campus.

You parked at the place he told you to and gotten out of your car, looking around for him. Shit, you just realized you didn’t even ask him what he was gonna wear or what he really looked like, which was pretty dumb in hindsight. You did catch a glimpse of a tall lanky guy with fluffy blue hair and a striped t-shirt, who was fumbling around on his phone and didn’t realize you was standing right by him.

“Excuse me,” you interrupted his peace softly, causing him to jump up and squeal in fear. “Oh!! I’n so sorry, I’m just looking for someone and I didn’t know if I was in the right place?”

Idia froze. It really was you, in the flesh, looking at him and taking his appearance in. You were gorgeous, even more so than he would have ever thought, and your voice brought tingles to his spine that made him shudder. Idia realized he was being quiet for a longer than acceptable time and he looked away. “H-hi,, y/n...” he mumbled barely even audible.

“Oh!! Idia? Is that you? Hi!!!” You exclaimed, seemingly really excited. Your mouth was curved into a wide smile too.

“Huh, you sound really enthusiastic...” Idia whispered, thinking he really said it in his own mind instead of out loud.

“Of course I am! I’m finally done with midterms and now I can relax and have fun with my new friend!” You said, bumping your shoulder with him, causing him to hold his breath.

Idia gulped when he realized what you said. Friend. Right, that’s all he was to you. At least for now. But hopefully that would change soon, right?

“Y-yeah. Let’s go inside.” Idia muttered, turning his back and walking.

Based on his demeanor, you almost forgot that Idia was the one who was so dominant during your stream the other week, since his attitude was so shy in real life. But, you pushed that thought to the back of your head, today was gonna be a fun day with a new friend, and that was strictly it. You didn’t really want to make your side job as a sex worker into a big thing that would make real life friendships difficult.

~~~~~

After he led you through the halls of the dorm, he brought you to a door and opened it up. Inside it was a bit messy, but an organized mess, one where the owner definitely knew where everything was. He had a pc setup with multiple monitors, RGB lighting which was mostly set to shades of blue, and a really nice gaming chair to go along with it. He also had a shelf with different manga series along it and other consoles for gaming, a bed, a door that led to a bathroom, and a mini fridge. Pretty nice for someone who lived without a roommate, you thought.

You walked over to his bed and flopped down onto it. Idia couldn’t help but think about the many times he had masturbated to you on those sheets that you were now sitting on. He was wondering what kind of panties you were wearing too, when he was suddenly interrupted.

“So! I guess we should get started on some games, yeah? I think I wanna play a fighting one against you! I’m totally gonna win~” You smiled up at him playfully.

Idia let his personality slip when games were brought up. “Tch, you really think you’re gonna win against me ? Think again.” The blue haired boy smirked down at you, which lit up the fire of competition in your heart.

“Let’s go then, dude.”

~~~~~

After about 15 minutes of close battles but still losing every one, you groaned and put the controller down on the floor where you and Idia were positioned in front of a monitor. You had developed a small sheen of sweat on your face from the stress. “Hey Idia, do you have anything to drink? I’m so thirstyy~” You looked at him and pouted, hoping he would maybe have some soda or water for you.

“A-ah, yes I do...” he stuttered a bit, seemingly nervous about something. He shuffled over to a mini fridge near his desk and brought out a cooler bottle. “Here, I made this sweet tea yesterday and you can drink from it...” Idia handed you the cool bottle and you observed it suspiciously. He was starting to feel his breath hitch and wondered if you had caught on.

“Hm~? Drinking from the same bottle already? So intimate!” You teased him, lightly elbowing his side. “Well, here goes nothing.” You tipped the bottle into your mouth and the tea tasted like sweet peach, with a slightly bitter aftertaste.

“Hm, it’s... interesting. What kind of tea is it?” You inquired, looking at the contents and sniffing it.

“I-it’s a recipe I found online! It looked good so, I decided to make it, I- I thought you would like it...” he shyly put down his head, trying to hide his suspicious nervousness from you.

“Okay... well it’s pretty good! I’ll drink some more, thanks for thinking of me~” you said as you gulped down the drink for a few more seconds. “Mmh! I think that cooled me down, let’s play more rounds!”

Idia looked back at you and sighed in relief. “Y-yeah, let’s do that.” He didn’t know how long it would take to work but at least he could distract his nerves by playing some games.

~~~~~

You started to sweat and feel hot. Unbearably hot. You cleared your throat and pulled off your cardigan and folded it to the side, but it wasn’t enough. The heat spread from your head, to your torso, and to your lower regions. Feeling hot and a deep... itch that you couldn't quite reach, in your crotch, you decide to change the position in which you were sitting, from crossing your legs to having them right underneath you, to feel some sort of friction in that area. You could feel yourself blushing intensely while the blue haired man next to you was still immersed in the game you both were supposed to play.

Watching him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers moved on the controller, his thumbs and pointers expertly moving across it. You started thinking about how they would feel playing with your nipples and clit - wait. ‘What am I even thinking about?! Snap out of it!’ But, you also couldn’t help but think about when you were close to beating him during a round, his voice changed to a lower, frustrated one, and he even let out a little growl. Even now you noticed the way his eyes were so glued to the monitor with a small scowl on his face. Thinking about that sent throbs and heat to your growing wetness.

WINNER: PLAYER 1!

“Fuhehe, I knew I could beat you again~ but for some reason it felt like you weren’t trying as hard this round.” Idia put down his controller, finally took a glance at you, and his breath was caught in his throat.

Your (s/c) body was covered with a layer of sweat, cheeks burning and your eyes looked glossy. You were also panting slightly, rubbing your legs together softly to try to create more friction. “A-ah,, hey... do you think you could lower the temperature in here? It- it’s getting really hot. Maybe I could have more of that cold tea?” You breathed, trying to sound more stable than you were.

Idia was dumbfounded for a second and totally forgot you had drank the tea that he mixed with the aphrodisiacs. He gulped as he leaned closer to your face, observing you. “Is... is there anything else I can help you, w-with?” Idia placed a hand on the floor near your thigh and watched as you tried to scoot away from it.

“D-don’t do that... it’s...,” you whimpered, back now touching the side of his bed as you leaned away from his touch. Since when did he smell so good? His scent radiating from his proximity sent tingles across your body.

“Do what?” Idia experimentally reached out to touch your arm, fingers grazing your back slightly. You couldn’t fight back the moan that slipped out of your mouth. “Haah~ I-Idia...” you breathed, looking at him with pleading eyes. You really weren’t planning on doing anything with your new friend, so why was your body disobeying your mind?

“Y/n... you know you can tell me if there’s a-anything you need.. I’ll help you.” Idia’s eyes were still wide and the way he looked at you made you start craving. You wanted him - no, you NEEDED him to touch you more. You never really thought about it, but, Idia really was attractive. It’s not because of your hazy mindset that you realized it, but the way the blue lights illuminated his pale skin and make his hair almost glow, you were just focusing on it more. He was... cute.

“I-...” you started, looking down at his hand on your arm, and then back at him. Staring at his lips, you felt your arms move around his neck as you pulled him closer. Your lips smashed against each others messily and you released a soft whimper against his mouth. The reality hitting you, you moved your head back suddenly breaking the kiss. Your body was still hot.

“F-first...” Idia was stuttering. “First... kiss...” Idia stared wide eyed at you, lips still trembling. He blushed and turned away, his brows tilted upwards as if he were troubled.

“Oh, oh god, I’m so sorry....” you breathed out, scared you had fucked it up with your friend.

“Haah.. more...” his eyes suddenly turned back to you, seemingly darker than before. “I want more of you, y/n...” with that, he brought his lips to yours again and moved them sloppily against your own. He even took the liberty to bite your bottom lip with his sharp teeth, causing you to yelp. Idia used this opportunity to shove his tongue past your mouth and moved it against your own, causing you to moan in pleasure while you could feel your panties starting to drench.

Idia pulled away from you, cheeks tinted pink. Both of you panted for breath, your clothes now feeling sticky due to sweat. He scanned your blushing figure and saw an opening of your skirt that had shown off your lacy panties. Idia gulped and dove his head towards your clothed pussy, breathing in the essence and shuddering loudly, which made you gasp.

“Idiia, no... we, we shouldn’t...” you whined. But you could feel your body was not agreeing with your words. When the tip of his nose grazed your clit you bucked your hips against his head, letting out a moan at the contact.

He lifted up your skirt to your waist so he could see your facial expressions. Suddenly, his wet tongue experimentally slid up your clothed pussy, piercing yellow eyes locked onto your glazed over eyes. You shrieked at the sensation and felt embarrassed that he could get you like this, and you were still wearing your panties.

“Hhn, you wore these for me, didn’t you..?” Idia said, which made you blush. “No, I- I didn’t...” you muttered weakly, trying to avoid his gaze

Idia’s grip on your thighs suddenly got tighter and he looked up at you with furrowed brows. “Don’t lie to me, kitten. I know you want me, like how you did on the night we met, on your stream.” Idia firmly told you. It seemed like it was more like he was convincing himself. "N-no Idia, I... I don't want to-" you started, until you were interrupted.

Idia’s teeth bit suddenly into your soft thigh, causing it to bleed a bit. You knew it would leave a big mark later. “AH!! F-fuck!!” You grabbed onto his blue hair and felt your pussy clench onto nothing. Why, why are you enjoying this? It was like Idia’s personality had changed, from the shy person you met outside his dorm to a more possessive and rough one. You were a bit scared of him but why was he making you feel so good?

You didn’t have time to think as you felt him move the fabric of your panties to the side so your drenched cunt was fully visible to him. He stared in awe and took in everything - the shape, size, and how wet you were. You brought the back of your hand up to your head and panted with embarrassment. “Idia... mmh...”, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Your body was still wanting more and after your mind was fighting the feeling so much, you decided to let it be. “Please...”

Idia met your eyes and saw how glossy they were. He lifted your body onto the bed so that you were now lying on your back while he was still in front of your crotch. You softly breathed in and out, causing your chest to rise and fall in your sweat soaked top. He snaked a pale hand under your shirt to grope your breast in your lacy bra, cold fingers sending shivers through your hot body. Idia couldn’t resist any longer, he suddenly shoved his wet muscle onto your pussy with fervor. You gasped and threw your head back onto Idia’s plush pillow, and shoved your hand on the back of his head pushing it deeper into your legs. Idia couldn’t contain himself and moaned into your heat, sending vibrations through it. “Oh- aaanh~ Idi-aaa~....” you sighed and whined. He took this opportunity to lower the cup of your bra below your breast and pinch your pert nipple in his fingers.

“Fuck~!” you screamed, feeling hot tears flowing down your face. Your body couldn’t take it much longer. Your core was building a familiar sensation but it was all too overwhelming and coming too fast. “It feels so good!!” You squealed, squeezing your thighs together so you were caging his head. Idia focused his energy lapping hungrily at your clit and then pushed two digits of his free hand through your wet hole, pumping them in and out. Your panting breaths were becoming shorter with each pump.

“Idia~ I’m close!! I’m gonna cum..!” You looked at him between your legs, and he lifted his mouth off of your cunt for a brief second. He stared into your eyes with his yellow ones, which stared at you intensely, licked his lips, and spoke.

“Cum for me then, kitten. Don’t hold back, cum all over my face.” With that, he dove back in and pumped his fingers into your core and flicked his tongue on your sensitive pearl even faster than before. Idia’s hips were rutting on his mattress, precum wetting his undergarments.

“Oh god - I’m cumming, I’m cumming~!!” You screeched and squeezed his head with your thighs, squirting his face and sheets with your cum. His tongue darted around your pussy licking off your juices. You breathed heavily, riding out your high. It took everything in him to stop himself from cumming right then and there - he wanted to save that for later.

Idia leaned up to where you were and kissed you passionately, and you could taste yourself all over his mouth. You moaned at the taste of your own juices on his tongue. Still exhausted from Idia eating you out, your body somehow craved the feeling of being filled. You sat up and got up from the bed and for a second he was afraid you were getting ready to leave. You removed your drenched shirt in front of him as well as your skirt, underwear, and bra. Still wearing your thigh high socks, he stopped you before you could remove them. “I, I want you to keep those on...” he licked his lips as he stared at your socks squeezing your plush thighs, the mark he made earlier with his teeth was visible and bruising now.

Following your lead, Idia was removing his own garments, tossing his shirt to the side. He was lean, not too skinny but not muscular either, pale all over. He also removed his pants and swung them over to the floor. Idia avoided your gaze as his erection was now very much so noticeable in his boxers, and you could even see a dark spot where his precum had made a mark. You felt your vagina tremble at the sight of it. It’s been a long time since you’ve had a partner and the anticipation was starting to get to you. As for Idia, well, everything was his first.

You knelt down in front of his bed and his legs and reached out to touch the head of his penis through the boxers, making him twitch and breathe out. “Mmh,...” you pulled down his underwear to reveal his lengthy cock. He wasn’t extremely girthy but he made up for that in length. The head of it was a shade of pale pink and dripped with clear liquid. You took some of the clear liquid in your hand and began teasing the head of his dick. Opening your mouth, you also gave it a few kitten licks while you pumped the base. Idia let out a few grunts and threw his head back, causing you to grow wet again.

Idia felt himself getting too close to orgasm which made him grab your head to stop you from going further. He lifted you up again and placed you on his lap, your dripping cunt hovering over his standing cock. Your body was hot again as you stared into Idia’s yellow eyes, a pink haze dusting his pale cheeks. Remembering he was a virgin, you looked at him hesitantly. ‘I- I don’t know, are you sure you want to lose your virginity right now?’ was what you were planning on saying, until he spoke up.

“Y/n... I need you. I’ve been wanting to do this to you for a while. I- I'm gonna put it in...” Idia whispered, panting slightly. As he was lowering your hips, you couldn't say anything as you felt his tip graze your wetness and you whimpered at the feeling. He kept bringing your hips down until you felt him all the way inside, head of his dick kissing your cervix. You threw your arms around his neck and moaned into his ear, causing a grunt from your partner. Not giving you time to adjust, Idia started thrusting in and out sloppily into your hole, squelching and moaning sounds filling the air of his usually quiet dorm.

“Oh Idia, please, pleasepleaseplease-!” You screamed, not even knowing what you were pleading for. Your (h/c) hair was sweaty and you felt your eye makeup starting to run with every tear you shed. Idia’s loud grunts filled your ear, causing your heat to build up.

“*pant* Mmh, y/n...” he paused and started thrusting into you slowly but hard, pulling you back so his forehead could touch with yours, blue hair still frayed in his face. “You have, *pant* no idea... I would masturbate to your pictures every. Single. Night. I jerked off on these sheets and used your photos of you smiling, you weren’t even *pant* n-naked... Does that, *pant* make me a sick pervert? No matter, you're here with me now, and I'm mmh, making you feel good, right?” Idia confessed, yellow eyes staring into yours with infatuation and obsession. You felt your breath hitch in a feeling familiar to fear. He was lovesick. Not the same person you thought you were messaging for the past few days or gaming with earlier. He looked deranged.

“I... Aaanh~!” You were cut off by a particularly hard thrust into your cervix. Idia licked your neck while thrusting into your abused hole. “I’m gonna breed you, kitten. W-wanna see you drip with my cum.. mmh, you want that?”

You were so close to your release that you didn’t even care about what he was saying. “More Idia, more!!” You breathed. Closing your eyes and now using your own hips to grind into his cock.

Remembering a particular position that grabbed Idia’s attention, he lifted you up, dick still hard inside of you. He placed your back on the bed, your head on his pillow while he brought your legs up to your chest. Idia continued to thrust into you, your face now in full view. He held your wrists in one hand above your head so you couldn’t hide your face from his eyes.

“Idia...” you breathed out. “I- Idia!!!!” You felt your orgasm approaching fast while he pounded into you relentlessly. “Haaanh~ I’m close!!” You moaned shamelessly.

“Hnnh, that’s r-right, y/n... mm, cum for me...” Idia breathed out in between his panting. With that, Idia thrusted faster until the knot that was building in your lower regions finally released. “Aaanh~!! I’m cumming, Idia, c-cumming all over your cock!!” Your face contorted into one of full bliss, eyes looking straight into his with your mouth in an o-shape. The walls around Idia’s length clenched tightly, milking him of his seed. Idia came suddenly with a groan, pumping it deep within you while riding out his high. "Fuck, y/n!!"

Idia rolled you both to your sides, his dick softening inside you. You both panted hard as you faced one another. You opened your eyes to find him with his eyes closed, blushing at the sight of your naked bodies still intertwined even after your climaxes. “We, we actually did it...” he whispered and opened his eyes. “!!!!” He made a mildly surprised noise, eyes widening and turning away.

“Eeh?! What’s wrong!?” You said, wondering if something was on your face. “N-nothing it’s just.... I’m surprised we... you.. you’re staring at me... I’m sorry, I’m still not used to people doing that...” Idia said shamefully, darting his yellow eyes to and from you periodically.

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Eek!! Why,, are you laughing at me?” Idia frowned and hid his face in the pillow. “Well.. your personality is different when you’re having sex versus not. It's interesting.” you told him, tracing a finger along his arm.

Idia blushed intensely, throwing his arms around your neck and hid his pale face in your neck. "Mmph..! I-, I like you, y/n..." he breathed into your neck. "I wouldn't be able to handle you doing this with another person so... will you be mine?" Idia pulled back to watch your face as you contemplated.

Idia's words from earlier suddenly flooded your memories. He looked insane when he confessed to his perverted actions and it evoked an uncertain emotion akin to fear. Your body felt paralyzed. But in the moment, with Idia's lightly pink tinged skin and unsure eyes, you had to admit it made your heart flutter, too. "Yes, Idia..."

#idia shroud #twst idia #twisted wonderland smut #twst smut #ignihyde #twisted wonderland lemon #twst lemon #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere idia shroud #idia x mc #yandere x reader #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland x reader

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solomonish · 3 years

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The Brothers and What You Are to Them

Do you ever wonder what it is about you that keeps your demon by your side? Not necessarily the traits you have that attracted them to you (and still do), or what they think makes you you, but the reason you’ve become so irreplaceable and imperative in their life that they don’t think they could live without you.

Nowdateables: here!

To Lucifer, you feel like stability.

Lucifer isn’t an insecure man, nor does he need someone to lean on. He doesn’t find himself overwhelmed by what the world throws at him. He is capable, and he can shoulder the responsibilities expected of him and then some, no matter what they should turn out to be.

...at least, that’s what he thinks, and that’s what he says.

But he does find himself asking you to run errands for him when he needs them done correctly. He does find himself entrusting you to keep the roof of the house connected to the rest of it if he has to go away. You are the one who knows how he likes his coffee and when it should be brought to him to power him through the rest of his work without cutting into his scant sleep time. You keep things under control when everybody seems hellbent on making sure things don’t go the way Lucifer plans, and then you’re there to kiss his forehead despite his empty protests and remind him to take care of himself, too.

Lucifer doesn’t feel like the ground is shaking beneath him, ready to topple down at the slightest breath. But if he did, he knew you’d be there to keep him from plummeting down.

To Mammon, you feel like acceptance.

Mammon is called a lot of things in his life, especially by those who are supposed to hold him dear. He’s never smart enough, never behaved enough, never trustworthy enough, never good enough. And, when he gives up and decides not to make himself sick over expectations he’ll never be able to reach, he only gets worse. To everybody else, he’s scum, and sometimes he can’t help but feel it.

You should be saying those things to him, too, with the way he can’t help but hoard your time and your affections and yes, even your things sometimes.

But you don’t. You pet his head and hold him close and give him affection. You do it even when he makes it difficult on you and tries to tell you that he doesn’t want it. He does. He needs it, even. For the first time, he feels like somebody, he feels like he reaches the expectations set up for him and that he actually has a shot to be what somebody wants.

And when you tell him that you don’t have any expectations for him, none except for him to just be himself, he believes you. And it feels so, so nice.

To Leviathan, you feel like peace.

You would think that a life spent nearly entirely in a room playing video games would be easy and peaceful enough. Saying so aloud is a surefire way to get Leviathan to snap.

Envy never allows him to know peace. His video games, manga and anime are a distraction along with a passion. At least he can fend off some of the negative energy with the knowledge that he is the biggest megafan of any number of franchises and titles. Still, despite that, despite the calming water he modeled his room after, he still feels the jealousy tearing at his inside like unstoppable tumultuous seas.

But you stop that. You are the greatest thing, and even if he isn’t sure why you’d ever consider him worthy, he can find that peace in being the one that you��d rather spend your time with and give your affections to. He makes it hard, and he knows he does - but you persist, and you cast that life raft out to him and finally, he feels like maybe he won’t drown anymore.

When he does allow himself to sit and just be the person that, for some reason, you love, his waters still and he knows what it is to really be loved.

To Satan, you feel like understanding.

Satan has had to build a wall around himself brick by brick to hide the ugliness that nobody would dare approach, that he never even asked for and never would have.

He is the king of masks. For any situation, he has about twenty that he can switch between flawlessly, keeping you on your toes and creating a labyrinth so involved nobody will ever figure it out. Well, everybody except for you.

You managed to find your way to his core, sometimes when he wanted you too and always when he didn’t. Sometimes, you figured out the riddles he laid out for you like breadcrumbs, your smile lighting up and lightening his heart so spectacularly he felt like a new person. Other times, you snuck in with a wrecking ball and made your own way to his center, leaving the walls he set up in ruins. Most of them, he isn’t sure he wants to rebuild - not if they keep you out. At the end of the day, even if it’s cheesy, even if it’s unexpected (and that bruises his ego to admit), he finds that you understand who he is so intimately, you may know him better than he knows himself.

Maybe, with your constant meddling, you invented the person he’s become, or at least helped in his formation - but, if you like him that way, that might not be such an insufferable fate.

To Asmodeus, you feel like sweetness.

The life led by someone with eyes on him all the time is ferocious.

Even for somebody who can charm anybody with a simple glance, Asmo has an equal talent for scorning those he leaves behind. For every person gushing at his Devilgram and tracking his whereabouts for an autograph or a photo, there’s someone cursing his name and spewing the worst kinds of insult that will never directly reach his ear. In his life, you take the pleasure with the pain, and you don’t complain about either or you’ll lose the only good you’ve got.

But nothing about you is so vile. You don’t chase after him just to prove that you’ve met him (even if, at first, he was a little miffed at the prospect), and you’d never say something so soul-shatteringly hateful it’d make even a demon lord cringe. You give him the kindness that doesn’t come with expectations or desire for something in return, the kind that might even come unconditionally. You make him feel like he doesn’t have to prove anything, like he’d still be the most wonderful, beautiful creature in all the realms to you even if (gasp!) everybody else turned their backs on him. There’s a sort of innocent kindness in the way you smile at him that gives him a sugar high, and he isn’t always sure of what to do with it.

Once, he was a creature made to be loved and adored, and you make him feel like there was never a time where such a privilege was ripped away from him.

To Beelzebub, you feel gentle.

Beelzebub is a big guy, and he’s a well-known athlete. People don’t look at him and think he’s fragile goods.

And he isn’t. He is his family’s defender, and he’s been through battles terrible enough they still hang over those who even know about them like storm clouds. But inside his tough exterior, the uncaring aura he accidentally portrays when all he can think about is keeping himself fed, there’s a person that craves the same affections everybody else does. Beelzebub isn’t just hungry for food - he feel empty, entirely hollow, like a void he’s worried will grow too big to be distracted and swallow everything he cares about whole. Sometimes he feels so empty he could just curl up and die.

But, whatever it is you have, it fills him up so deliciously and he’s hooked. It’s even enough for him to just know that you’re around and taken care of - that staves off the worst of it, and he suddenly doesn’t feel like a beast that will be the downfall of all he loves. You give him patience with his need to eat, you give him gentleness with your touches and your smiles, and your voice doesn’t have that exasperated edge everybody else’s does.

He isn’t a powerhouse or a bottomless pit to you - he’s a person, and it’s more than he could ever ask for.

To Belphegor, you feel like forgiveness.

Belphegor does a lot, he is a lot, and most of it feel wrong.

If he could keep himself awake for longer, he might have enough time to dig himself into a pit of self-loathing in the way Levi does. But he just feels empty, a void broken by occasional bouts of fury, or hatred, or pain of some sort. It’s hardly an existence, so he does the bare minimum, hardly passing the threshold for living because to do so would be more than he could deal with. Hell, the only time he has to think and to do things, he spends trying to inconvenience the person who (supposedly) cares most for him or hurting others - hurting you.

God, how can you look at him like that? Like he’s somebody you can trust, like he’s somebody worth an effort when he himself doesn’t give a damn? It’s weird, it’s stupid, it’s just like you humans to do, and it can never stop. It’s too much for him to deal with, but that’s a good thing. The time he spends wrestling with your forgiveness is time spent being productive, something he’s not exactly been accused of before. And sometimes, that diligence spreads to other thins: his relationship with his brothers, his relationship with humans, his relationship with himself.

You make him want to put the work in because you make him feel like he amounts to something - and you make him feel like his mistakes haven’t completely blotted out his hopes for the future the way he used to think they did.

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darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years

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My Beloved Cherry Blossom ~ Yamaoka Kazan/The Oni x Fem!Reader

Note: Since Kazan lived in the feudal era, and died there, his S/O would be someone from that time, so, just like him, she'd be dead, so the shock of seeing the dead back alive would be great for him...Who also died in a painful death. Haha.

"My son, you reached the age when you have to marry and ensure the continuation of our bloodline. Since you haven't bothered looking for a potential wife, I took the liberty of finding you a pretty girl. She is the daughter of a respectable samurai who guards the Emperor, and her father ensured she is a very capable, smart and understanding woman, so she will be able to deal with your...Temper." Kazan's father sat down with his son, who scowled, offended at what he heard, but despite all this, he was well aware of this bother he had to deal with. "...Yes, father." he muttered, sharply looking down at the floor. "We will go to meet her tomorrow, at her home, an in less than a month, we will have the marriage. I know you are not the type to care about families and women...But you have to do anything in your power to ensure the honor and survivability of the Yamaoka bloodline." yes, of course, his father just had to sigh in disappointment. "I understand, father. I will make you proud." Kazan answered before leaving the room to train, as a way to let out the pent up rage.

Who needed women and a family? He certainly didn't care about that. They were a nuisance. A weakness, at best. Father is too much of a sentimental, even for a samurai. What a ridiculous charade...

And his displeasure continued even the next day, as he dressed in a rich, official kimono, to show off his heritage, but at the same time, his long hair was put in a disheveled ponytail, rebel strands flying with the wind, and the neck of his outfit was lowered down enough to show his outlaw-ish predisposition. Needless to say, his father was angered by this side of his son - Surely, he taught him better! - But it was far too late, and they had already arrived at the L/N estate.

Just outside the big, beautiful house, a petite young woman, her long dark hair shining like ebony, her skin as white as snow...She looked so frail that she'd almost resemble a snowdrop. And she was delicately playing a soft, yet sorrowful tune on her bamboo flute, while her father put a pink flower in her hair, looking at her with nostalgia and love.

Kazan look at his own father, before glancing back at the girl whom he found out was named Y/N, and realised how big of a difference it was to was a son, compared to having a daughter. The difference in the two men's behaviour was huge.

He once heard a samurai, whose wife had just given birth to his daughter, "Treat your daughter the way you wish her husband would treat her." He didn't care at first, obviously - Kazan's mind was never on marriage - But now he was beginning to understand the meaning of his words, for they were wiser than anticipated.

Her father was tender, and treating her as if she was the soft petal of a cherry blossom, and his voice was low, loving and respectful, not wanting to startle her in any way...He was talking as if he was trying to keep the zen equilibirum intact at all costs.

The love between a man and a woman is supposed to be like Yin and Yang...

But how could Kazan possibly behave in such a way, when all he knew was to be a rageful brute who would destroy everything in his path in the loudest, brashest way possible?

"Ah, Yamaoka-san, you have arrived. And you brought your son with you. It's an honour finally meeting you, Kazan. Here, this is my daughter, Y/N. Y/N, dear, why don't you go prepare some osmanthus tea for our tired travelers, while I guide them to our table in the cherry blossom garden?" her father pat her hair, and in return, she bowed slightly at the guests, offering them a gentle smile, that would put all of Spring's flowers to shame. "Yes, right away, father. I hope you will like our flower garden. Papa had them all planted in honour of my mama. They are all her favourite kinds and colours." ah, yes, of course. Women have a special kind of bond with their mother - That was something he would never be able to fully comprehend, Kazan realised very easily, by the way the girl was close to shining as soon as she talked about her birth-giver.

The son of the Yamaoka family obvious saw women before - He wasn't an idiot - And he had enough experience with them...But there was something different about this one. She was...So...Innocent? She seemed to naive and not from this world, almost as if she had no idea of the terrors of the world outside of her residence.

It was such an endearing thing, almost exciting - But the young samurai wasn't sure if he wanted to protect this innocent ignorance at all costs...Or if he wanted to shatter it into pieces and taint it completely.

But that question was easily answered as soon as she came back and started pouring tea for him. And then later in their marriage, the way she behaved so gently with him, it was so weird, so foreign to him, and yet, it made him feel something else...Something completely different from the bubbling, infernal rage he could feel in his chest all the time.

It was soothing, mending his soul completely, for some reason that he couldn't comprehend at all.

But why should he, anyway? He was content just having her by his side whenever he was home. Only she was able of taming the storm that clouded his mind and soul.

His little cherry blossom.

And only the Gods knew how many men he had to kill to make sure she isn't harmed, or prayed upon. He never realised how many desperate, disgusting, dishonorable and lecherous men could be, but Kazan wasn't going to let her see anything other than the honour of a samurai - Like him, his father, and her own father.

However, not even her gentle soul would be able to contain his rage whenever he'd hear that dreadful, shameful nickname they would call him.

"Oni-Yamaoka"

Why was he an Ogre, all of a sudden? Because he brought justice upon the fakes who made a mockery of the code of the samurai? Because he wanted to protect the sole person he cared for in this life? Even his father was against the aggressiveness he displayed on the battlefield, and in the actions he took...It almost felt like even his father was agreeing with that stupid nickname!

"Here, Kazan, lay your head on my lap and forget about your worries, at least for tonight." Y/N pat her lap with a sweet smile, her eyes gleaming with love and benevolence as she reached out her other hand to reach out to him, and as if possessed, he followed her lead absent-mindedly. "Y/N." Kazan called out after a few minutes of having his eyes closed, feeling himself relaxing as her fingers were soothingly playing with his long, untameable hair. "Why do you always tell me to lay on your lap, whenever I'm angry?" "Do you not like it, darling?" she asked, but the passive smile on her face showed that she knew that wasn't the case at all. "I do. I was just wondering why." he grumbled in a lower voice, which made her muse, her smile shaping into an almost kitten-like one. "My mama always did that to papa. She said that the best place for a man to relax is on a girl's thighs. I don't think she was wrong." oh, what a sweet giggle she had. It sounded crystalline, like a river of diamonds going through the forest. "...I won't comment on that." the man closed his eyes, not wanting to give in to the flushed sensation he felt hearing something so embarrassing. "You do not have to be embarrassed, my dear. We are man and wife. There is nothing we could do or say that would be worth or deemed as embarrassing." she reassured him with an amused tone, as her small hand touched his bare chest, just where his heart would be. "Why are you not afraid of me, like the rest of them? You are nothing more than a frail woman. You have the eyes of a baby fawn, and the frail bones of a rabbit. You are nothing more than a flower in comparison to me. I could snap your neck like a twig if I'm not careful touching you. And yet, you allow yourself to be vulnerable around me, and while at it, you encourage me to be the same as well. I will never understand the complexity of women and their thinking." the samurai sighed, grumbling in faux annoyance. "My, my, was that what was on your mind? How lovely of you to be concerned about me. Well, I will tell you a little secret, since you are so curious, but make sure it stays between the two of us, alright?" she giggle softly, almost like a little child kissing her crush on the cheek, and it made Kazan's heart flutter. Was she truly trusting him with a secret? What did he do so worthy to her that she deemed him the perfect candidate as a secret-keeper? "I would not dare tell your secret even to the Emperor himself, or my father." came the samurai's vow with such seriousness, that made the girl grin. "You see, women aren't physically strong like men are, but what we lack physical prowess, we make up for our incredible emotional strength. So, I believe that, at least in these times of war and bloodshed, a man's role is to protect the physical body of the woman, while the woman's role is to protect her man's heart and soul. Without balance, there is no future and no happiness, wouldn't you agree? If we don't make the best out of this life, and look at the beauty of the world...Then have we even lived at all?" there was wisdom in the words that Kazan deemed rather naive, and yet...What she said wasn't wrong, per se. In fact, it was true. He was well aware that, with his body, the best he could do was protect her, but he would never be able to sooth her broken heart the same way she does to him...And likewise, he remembered the mirthful laugh he let out when she tried lifting his weapon from the ground.

However, he wasn't going to say anything out loud, and decided that, instead of voicing his opinions, he'd rather grunt and close his eyes, letting sleep take over him, his head still resting on her soft thighs.

Maybe having a wife wasn't as bad as he once thought...

But times change fast - Years pass, lives pass, the river passes...And yet, only one thing doesn't pass, and that is Yamaoka Kazan's rage, which only grew stronger and stronger with each day, and each time he heard himself getting called "The Oni".

He was desperately angry, and not even Y/N's loving touch or sweet voice could save his soul, so much, that in fear of accidentally hurting her, he decided to stay out and train or go on and kill more and more samurai impersonators, hoping to somehow release all his anger and be able to return home.

He knew Y/N would be worrying for him, but she needn't do such a thing, it would only hurt her heart, and that was the last thing he wanted. He was strong, and feared - Who would dare go against Yamaoka Kazan, anyway?

The days away from home multiplied, and he was away for a stupefying month...Y/N must be crying, worried sick. He wasn't afraid of anything physical in this world, yet the thought of her doe eyes shedding tears...It was something he was terrified of, especially if he was the cause of that.

But on the way home, he found a pink lotus flower, and he thought she would love it, so he gently took it with him back home. It was raining, and an ominous feeling crept into Kazan's heart, and he realised there seemed to be an almost dark aura around his home.

It wasn't yet sleeping time, so why were there no candles lit? There was no sign of any living being there? Where were the servants? Where was his beloved Y/N, waiting for him on the porch, playing the flute the way she always did?

Something was not right...

The man rushed inside the house, and as soon as he slammed open the sliding door, he was met with nothing that he expected - Pools of blood on the floor, while the otherwise neutral-coloured walls were splattered with the red liquid, and the corpses of the servants were brutally mangled and thrown around as if they were defect ragdolls.

It wasn't the horrifying sight that scared him, but the fate of his wife - So he made haste and ran to their shared room...And there she was.

In more pieces than she should be in.

Her hair was a mess, her kimono was a mess, her make up was a mess...And she had been tortured, from the way her wounds, slashes and cuts looked on her body.

Who...? Who could do something so...So...Disgusting...To a defenseless woman who had no means of fighting back? Where was the honour in defeating a weak civilian, such as her? What was the purpose of this massacre?! Was it to anger him? To bring out the Ogre from him? Is it what they all wanted? To see The Oni they feared and hated so much? They got revenge on a small woman, just to get to him?!

"Ah, Kazan, finally. Took you quite a while to return home...I thought her body would rot away and get swarmed with maggots by the time you'd return. And what's that in your hand? A flower? Did you want to apologise to her with a stupid flower? You have caused my daughter immense distress, and yet, she loved you to the very end. You should have seen her cry out your name, praying for you to come back home and save her...But, alas, the Ogre is never home! He is so busy killing, that he didn't realise he killed his own wife! Hahaha! Yamaoka Kazan, you are a pathetic excuse of a man, you could never come close to her strength! I tried everything to get her to tell me your secrets...But she didn't say a word. She ignored me. In the end, she came to hate me, her own father, who cared and loved her since she was born...And she loved you, some spineless monster who knows nothing but carnage!" what...? What was this man saying...? Is he truly implying that he tortured his own daughter to death, for...Information...On him...? "What...Did you do...?!" red was the only thing he could see, as he couldn't help but stare deep into her dead eyes that still held the fright and agony they last felt when she was still alive. "I KILLED HER! I KILLED MY OWN DAUGHTER, Y/N! This whole marriage was meant to bring down your stupid family of brutes and uncontrollable monsters! It was meant to kill YOU! But she was stupid! Nothing more than a sentimental woman! She LOVED you, a monster who knows only bloodlust! It's YOUR fault that she is dead, Kazan! YOU killed her! YOU!" her father yelled at him only meaningless gibberish.

In fact, Kazan couldn't comprehend words anymore. Instead, he could only hear whispers - They were soft and feminine...They sounded like Y/N...Could her ghost be talking to him? Was she trying to calm him down one more time, from beyond this world?

Yes, you were a saint, truly...It was a pity you had to meet him...If you hadn't, you'd have still been alive...And your beautiful flute song would still resound around the forest, along with the thrill of the birds.

"I am sorry, Y/N" was the last thing Kazan thought...

As The Oni took over completely, and went on the greatest blood shed known to mankind at that time...

------

What am I doing here...? What is this strange place...? It looks nothing like the beautiful flower garden Kazan made for me...So where am I?

The girl looked around like a confused meerkat, asking herself a limitless amount of questions, only to look down and realise her beautiful pink kimono was dirty with mud, and she gasped in shock. How could she let that happen! She can't let Kazan see her like this, what would he think?!

Ah, yes, that's it, just look around for Kazan, he'll surely know what's going on!

However, instead of finding her strong samurai, she saw three other people, all looking of a different race than her, and wearing such strange clothes...

Was she behind fashion, and she had no idea? She was sure she was buying only the best kimonos there were...!

"What are you just standing around for?! Run! We have to repair the generators!" a girl with unnatural coloured hair yelled at her before she sprinted the hell out of there.

Generators...? What are...Generators...? And why is this place so creepy...?

Hold up...This paper wall maze...This was from her home! Yes, that means she was close to home!

She ran through the little maze with a smile on her face, only to see one of the man working very focused on some kind of contraption, and he urged her to help him out. She sheepishly crouched opposite of him, frightened, but she carefully tried to do something, but instead, a loud noise and sparks came out, and she shrieked in fear, shielding her face as she fell on her back.

"What kind of sorcery is this?!" she cried out, her eyes watering. "What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you want to die that badly?! Get a grip and do something useful for once!" the man screamed in her face, before running the hell out of there.

Why were they all so rude to her...?

She was so used to her family, her servants, friends and Kazan to be nice with her, that she didn't realise people like these existed too.

A bit shaky, Y/N got up, trying to pat away the dust from her dirty kimono, and continued to look the estate...Only to find her home...But why was it in such a deplorable state...? Surely, she wouldn't allow her beloved home to end up like this...!

As Y/N made her way inside the home, she noticed the scary amount of blood splattered all over the place...Almost as if there was more red than colours of walls an the floor. It was so frightening...And confusing.

Who died here? And how in the world...I mean...She was sleeping, and then...

Oh.

No.

She wasn't sleeping...

As soon as she stepped into her room, she didn't notice the blood on the floor, but the discarded pink lotus that laid on her pillow. As she crouched to take the flower in her room, she got a sudden flashback of her memories from the night she died...

She waited for Kazan, and the elderly servant woman was comforting her, pouring her tea and patting her back, as she played the same flute song she did when she first met beloved.

But then, her father paid her a visit...And a true hell was unleashed...

Her own father did something so atrocious...Such a betrayal was nothing she could ever phantom in her own life, and yet, her life was ended not by a stranger, but by her own kin.

As silent tears escaped her eyes and streamed down her delicate cheeks, a loud roar shook the whole estate, and the brusque blurting in the room of a huge man was enough to fright her to fall on the ground with a startled yelp.

And yet...

The raised weapon, the samurai garments he wore...And that Oni mask... There was only one person in the world who could look like this.

"Kazan...?" her voice came out weaker than a whisper, and she wasn't sure if he even heard her calling out his name. For a split second, she was terrified of the thought of that horribly enormous weapon striking her down where she stood, in her own bed, for the second time...And yet...

The monstrously big man dropped his weapon and slowly crouched in front of her, picking up the flower and putting it in her hair, pinning it away from her gorgeous face.

"Y/N...It really is you..." his voice came out as a dark grunt, in fact, in very much sounded like a demon, and yet, his moves and actions seemed more delicate than even this lotus flower.

The girl started laughing from happiness, allowing more tears to escape her eyes, being reunited with the love of her life, and she threw herself in her arms, feeling safer than she ever did in her life.

"I missed you so much, my dear Kazan...I missed you so...I can't believe such things happened to us...And yet, here we are, together again, even in death, even in hell." as she said that, she slowly took away his mask, and revealing his rugged face, obviously one of a man seasoned in war and tortured to death - She put her hand on his cheek, just as he used to do with her, and caressing him, she leaned in to plant a kiss on his forehead.

It was meant not only as a lucky charm, but as a 'home sweet home' as well, for there was no home without Kazan's arms wrapped around her protectively...

And there was no home without the petite body of his beloved S/O in his strong embrace, watching her fall asleep.

"I promise you never leave you again, my beloved cherry blossom." he said so, and yet, having been in this Hell longer than her, he knew of the atrocities she, as a Survivor, would have to endure, and the hell the Entity would put on the both of them.

And yet...

If anyone even dares to look at her the wrong way, The Oni would make sure that, no matter how immortal the Killer might be, he would bring an end to them.

He already lost her once, and he's not going to let a tragedy befall her ever again.

#dbd #dbd x reader #dbd imagine #dbd oni #dbd oni x reader #dbd oni imagine #kazan yamaoka #kazan yamaoka imagine #kazan yamaoka x reader #dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight imagine

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

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*crawls through you bedroom window* actually sorry I’m not done talking about the tragic, complicated clusterfuck which is Ben and Rook’s friendship/partnership. Because of how it was set up and their own personalities at the time, it was doomed to fail. I mentioned previously how neither got to know/understand the other and I retract that because it’s not entirely true. They did get to bond in a way that you almost have to when you’re in life or death situations together but they never talked about it and so each went on thinking they weren’t important to the other.

The whole nature of their partnership reeks of impermanence. Max obviously knew ahead of time that Gwen and Kevin were leaving for college and had time to prepare. Ben being on his own, reckless and stupid, was not an option. I wonder how many candidates they went through before they got to Rook. They chose someone who excelled at Plumber training, who knew the rules Ben never bothered to learn backwards and forwards. Someone who would balance out Ben and keep him reigned in. Someone who was obviously destined for higher management so why not give him the best field training possible? Rook, if not Ben, was certainly aware that it was a temporary thing. Ben was 16 going on 17, soon he wouldn’t need a partner anymore; this was the last attempt at training wheels. I imagine the partnership dissolved not long after Omniverse ends, when Rook becomes Magister and probably has new training and responsibilities. Ben, almost an adult by human standards and hopefully positively molded by Rook’s influence, is deemed ready to be on his own.

So imagine you’re Rook, you’re a newly graduated Plumber who was ready to take on the universe. You’re informed you’re heading to Earth and you will be working one on one with your idol, the Ben 10, the one who inspired you to leave your traditional, isolated homeworld. You meet your hero and while he’s got the watch and the quips, he’s also a child in a culture you don’t understand. You’re disappointed that your hero isn’t as perfect as rumor and propaganda told you. You’re angry and frustrated and you don’t bother to hide it, Ben almost seems to retaliate by being more obnoxious. The more time you spend with Ben, you realize there’s a method to his madness. He wins more battles than he loses, what Rook at first took to be Ben’s flaws turn out to also be his strengths. Seeing Ben in action snarling and laughing in the face of certain destruction, he realizes that Ben is, at the same time, a stupid, idiot kid who barely has an idea of what he’s doing but also twice the hero Rook thought he was. Suddenly Ben 10 isn’t just a poster in his room or a radio show to listen to in the dark, he is a real person and that makes him even more worthy of admiration.

And Rook does admire him, quietly. Ben keeps up his walls and Rook lets him because who is he to try and really befriend Ben 10? Rook is just one of billions of Plumbers in the universe, Ben is the universe’s savior. I bet before Rook ever stepped foot on Earth it was drilled into him that Ben Tennyson was to be protected at all costs, that Rook’s life was nothing compared to Ben’s. Rook already comes from a very restrained and private culture, he won’t initiate anything beyond what is needed for to the mission and to save his partner. It is enough for him to be able to work alongside his hero (even if said hero is thoughtless and ridiculous and has no sense of self preservation and he drives Rook insane but by gum does he respect the hell out of Ben when he isn’t contemplating murdering him). When the time ultimately comes for Rook to depart, he will be sad but not mention it. Because he imagines he is only a blip on Ben’s radar, a temporary partner before Ben goes onto bigger and better things. He never tells Ben that his loyalty wasn’t to the Plumbers, to Ben 10 but to the scrawny, sleep deprived kid who always remembered Rook’s favorite smoothie flavor.

Now imagine you’re Ben. You’ve saved the universe at the cost of your privacy, chance for a normal life, general sense of safety and sanity. You’re quickly losing track of what part is you and what part is the myth about you. Two of your three major support systems abandon you without notice. Over the years of AF/UAF, Gwen and Kevin saw all your brokenness, fears, vulnerabilities, watched you go from dumb kid to hero. You didn’t have to tell them these things, they saw them happen and just knew. And now they’re gone and you only have your grandpa who you love but is also sorta of your boss now. He tells you you’re being assigned a new partner, someone chosen without your consent, someone you’re expected to trust your life and secrets with. Fine, this Rook fellow will do. He can watch your back but he’s not having any pieces of your broken heart.

You fight, both bad guys and each other. The two of you have such opposite styles that you clash. He may have training and discipline but you have experience and incredible power. You fumble and bicker and somewhere through it all find an understanding. Suddenly the rumble of his voice is familiar as Kevin’s once was, his logical approaches and teasing barbs slot in where Gwen’s used to be. It’s not bad, you tell yourself. You know this isn’t forever, that it’s not real, but it’s not bad. Because you know first and foremost that Rook is a Plumber and you are not. You also know he is a fan and you are acutely aware how short you fall from the perfect hero ideal. Ben laughs, clinging harder to the arrogant hero façade and pretends Rook’s disappointment doesn’t crush him. If someone who’s forced to work with him doesn’t like Ben, then how can he be the beloved savior everyone tells him he is even though he doesn’t quite know how he got there? He’s just a kid doing his best and soon buries himself in his perceived role.

Time passes, Ben and Rook have been through so much. Against your will, he’s seen some of your broken parts. He sees past your cracks, sees your guilt and grief and bone deep fear. But he doesn’t seem upset, even more disappointed by the failure hero. He is kind, friendly, understanding. Not enough that Ben feels comfortable to open up but he relaxes, just a bit. Rook isn’t just a forced upon partner, he’s now a friend. But he knows Rook is only here because he was ordered, he feels Rook’s annoyance with him and believes his kindness is only out of duty. It’s fine, he’s used to everyone around him bleeding him dry of everything he has and then some. Just another part of being a hero. He’s not Kevin or Gwen but he is Rook and he is grown on you because Ben is always an open soul, one who wants to receive some love he gives so freely. You finally feel steady, like you can stop pretending so much and try and find some peace and happiness in your dangerous, chaotic life.

Suddenly so fast, you’ve saved the universe once more and Rook is moving on. It’s like Gwen and Kevin leaving all over again. Rook himself seems excited to move up the ranks, to get more tassles on his uniform. He is a soldier at heart, you are not even if you play the part of one. You are a child only you’re not anymore, while you were busy saving everyone again and again your childhood was stolen from you. Now on the edge of adulthood, you’re told it’s time to take responsibility. You want to scream you’ve been doing that since you were 10 years old, that someone else can do it for a change. You want to beg Rook to stay, to drag Gwen and Kevin home, to hide your loved ones away with you and not have to confront the big, bad universe alone. Instead, you do what you always do. You swallow all your fears, your wishes and hopes and shake his hand goodbye and wish him well. You don’t tell him you’ll miss him, neither does he.

Rook and Ben part as the strangers they never stopped being even if both of them aches at the loss of the close proximity, of the friendship. Both are very much aware that the relationship was weak, transient, that it might have been something more if they gave it more attention. However, too many things were between them and both of them genuinely believed the other didn’t care as much. The rest of their lives they remain friendly, distant but polite. It’s not much different from when they fought side by side even if they wish it different.

#ben 10 #rook blonko #ben tennyson #this got long #also very emotional #I feel exhausted writing this #digging through those emotions #wow I want to cry for both of them but especially Ben #holy shit this kid really doesnt have anyone he can really rely on #someone who won't leave him or doesn't constantly demand things from him #the basis of all his relationship is doling bits of himself away #until its just him and the many masks he keeps up to convince everyone that its okay #when hes just screaming on the inside #god I bet when Rook leaves he just has a long overdue mental breakdown #you can't live with that level fo stress and pressure without snapping #losing rook who was barely a friend bc Ben refused to let himself get attached only he did and it hurts #but not as much as believing that rook saw him as another assignment a stepping stone to higher ranks #a hero he once idolized and reluctantly learned to put up with #bc Rook himself is too private and awkward to admit that he admired ben more after working him than he ever did as a kid #that seeing someone so small and so mortal doing what he does is just incredible #god the miscommunication physically hurts me #Im already lying down but like... I need to lie down

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thescarletwitchsapprentice · 3 years

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A Pure Soul (Yandere!Wanda Maximoff x ADD!Autistic!reader)

Summary: Two weeks or so after Wanda arrives at the Avengers’ Place, (y/n) shows up. An autistic Avenger who’s extremely honest and who doesn’t really seem to mind just being by themself, but also is kind and even affectionate to others. Wanda’s smitten by this and does the unthinkable.

Request?: Nope. I’m literally just throwing this out of the back of my head. From the Yandere Starter Prompts list by @yandere-mccree

Prompt: 5. “This world doesn’t deserve an angel like you.”

Warnings: (AOU Spoilers, CACW spoilers, IW spoilers, Endgame spoilers, torture sorta, sleep paralysis mention, ableism, slight manipulation?, kidnapping, mind-breaking mention)

Note: I wanted to try a bit more of a subtle Yandere vibe for Wanda. I’ve never really written one of these, so it might not be as great as I hoped. I don’t encourage or condone the unhealthy aspects.

Word Count: 3,268

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It’s only been a couple of weeks or so after she’d been taken from Sokovia after it was destroyed. Wanda’s still mourning the loss of her brother when you arrive. You're a shy person, not a fan of eye contact, but you do like touch, hugs in particular, as well as head pets.

Wanda doesn’t pay attention to you much at first. You’re just another Avenger to her; a nice change of pace, but that’s all. But then comes Lagos. Wanda now has guilt along with so much trauma. It’s no surprise when you hear her crying in her room one day, the door somehow left open a crack.

“I’m a terrible person,” she says softly, thinking no one heard.

You peek in and catch her with a pillow to her face, weeping. Your heart breaks. You know it’s on her, but she clearly feels terrible. You stand in the doorway until she soon notices you.

“Oh....(y/n),” she says as casually as she can. “Hey.”

“You’re not a terrible person,” you tell her.

She’s shocked to hear this.

“You’re not afraid of me?”

You shake your head.

“Why would I be?”

“I’m too destructive,” she says, sniffling. “You saw what happened in Lagos.”

You enter your room and sit on her bed with her.

“But you’re also very kind,” you point out. “And you’re a good person. You clearly care when you hurt others, and you want to rectify your mistakes. A bad person wouldn’t do that.”

In that moment, you can sense her need for some physical contact. You lean over and give her a hug, rubbing her back.

“I’m glad you’re here, Wanda,” you tell her.

And you are. You truly are. Even if you don’t know her well, you’ve heard her talk a few times, and she’s a breath of fresh air. Most of the Avengers tend to be a bit loud and sometimes a bit insensitive, but not Wanda. Wanda’s extremely sensitive to others’ feelings and tends to be a quiet person. It’s something you need. Her accent is also soothing to you for some reason, not to mention she’s beautiful.

You let her cry on your shoulder for a few hours, even humming to her a bit. Then it’s dinnertime and you’re called to the kitchen. That’s when something in Wanda changes. You, an Avenger who barely knows her, aren’t afraid of her; in fact, you’re glad that she’s here. She also doesn’t know you all that well, but she’s seen some acts of kindness you’ve done for her and the other Avengers, even when you thought no one was watching. And she heard your thoughts when you were hugging her, all wonderful things about her, how you wish she could see how amazing she is, how beautiful she is.

At that moment, her heart melts. How can someone with such a sweet and pure soul like you exist? How could someone so....perfect exist? It’s a ray of sunshine in her heart, making her forget about the guilt and trauma, even if only for a few moments. Your presence is exactly what she needs. And she needs more of it.....

===================================

At first it starts off simple and small; making an effort to see you more often, running into you in the compound, smiling at you, making conversation. And honestly, there’s something about Wanda you can’t quite shake off. She does make your heart flutter; sometimes you get shy around her or even blush. It’s adorable and it’s something that only makes her more fond of you.

She discovers you’re autistic when the lights of the compound are too bright one time. The second she notices how anxious you are after Tony turns on the lights before getting his coffee in the other room, she immediately turns them down for you, and she’s the first person you tell.

“I’m touched that you trust me enough to confess this,” she tells you with a few tears in your eyes.

Wanda asks you what other things you like or dislike, things that give you sensory overload and things that help you calm down. She asks you about your experiences as an autistic person. You’re touched by how considerate she is, and even confess to her about your ADD, or Inattentive ADHD, as they call it now. She also asks about that, but does her best to take it a little at a time so that you’re not overwhelmed with questions.

What you don’t know is that she already knows all of this, having telepathy and all; she wants to hear it from you so that it doesn’t come off as creepy. She also loves to hear your voice. It’s like music to her ears, music that eases her stresses and trauma, even if only temporarily.

Then she starts to make some more effort, actively implementing what she knows and paying attention to things you say and do, so that she knows what she can do or say without it being suspicious. Wanda wants the relationship to move as naturally as possible. You’re her precious angel, and she doesn’t want to scare you. And she won’t unless it’s inevitable or of absolute necessity.

Wanda buys a bunch of fidgets and other sensory things for you to try, keeping in mind what you’ve told her. But also throwing in some “close guesses,” meaning things she knows but that you haven’t told her, things close to what you’ve told her. She can easily pass it off as just “having a hunch,” as long as it doesn’t happen too often.

Though she wants it to be as natural as possible, she occasionally uses her powers on you; nothing too severe at first. Just sending little suggestions to your mind; she’s told you a few of her favorite things, so she’ll base those suggestions off of that. One of the first suggestions is why not ask her how to make paprikash? She suggests that the two of you make it together and you agree. You’re not big on spice, but there’s some sweet paprika as a substitute. And it’s not as spicy as you think, but it’s delicious.

Sometimes Wanda sends a suggestion to get you going on a rant on one of your Special Interests; it’s both a chance for her to “get to know you more,” but mostly because she adores hearing you speak about what you love; she especially loves seeing that twinkle in your eyes and she loves seeing your face light up. It’s one of the most precious things to her, seeing you so happy. She wants to cherish every single second of it.

Though you’re nervous about it, suggestions of humming or singing to her pop into your mind. You give into them fairly often, mostly later on in the relationship. She tells you about how beautiful your voice really is, which gets you shy and blushing. It’s so endearing to her, seeing her sweet little sunbeam being so cute without even trying.

When you come back from a battle, Wanda checks to make sure you’re okay as soon as possible. She volunteers to patch you up to the best of her ability, and she soon becomes the person you first think of when you need first aid or care after a battle.

Then Wanda decides to take it a little further; her room in the compound is next to yours. She stands outside of your door, waiting for you to go to sleep, before opening the door a tad and sending in sweet dreams. If there’s one thing she despises, it’s seeing her sweet little angel upset, and this assures that it won’t happen.

Next she sends little dreams with her in it; first only small appearances, but then she becomes apparent little by little until she ends up being the focus of many of them. Of course she’ll throw in miscellaneous dreams here and there, just to make sure you don’t get suspicious.

Then comes Wanda’s biggest suggestion to you; you two have gotten so close over the past few months, why not ask her to be your girlfriend? It only makes sense. You still feel those butterflies in your stomach, you two both have amazing chemistry, and you both are very close. At this point, you don’t question it. You’re just nervous to ask, as you’ve never been in a relationship before. Of course the nervousness is also slightly part of the suggestion, more on a subconscious level. It’s not enough to make you panic; just enough to make you shy when asking her. And of course, you are. You end up stammering a little, blushing a bit. She fondly assures you that it’s okay to feel this nervousness, and happily accepts being your girlfriend.

===============================

Now that you two are a couple, her next suggestion for you is to give into those affectionate feelings you have when cuddling with her. She loves the warmth you bring. Wanda didn’t think you could get any cuter, and yet she’s a full-on puddle when you cuddle with her. You’re just so sweet and Wanda can’t help but feel protective over you.

Others begin to notice you opening up more and they start making conversation with you. Of course Wanda’s listening to their thoughts to make sure they’re not interested in going further than a friendship with you. Friends are okay for her, and she’s very excited inside when you make a new friend, as she knows that making friends doesn’t exactly come naturally to you. However if it ever gets to anything past that, she’d have to take action. One does express interest in you, and that doesn’t sit well with Wanda. This person doesn’t deserve such a sweet angel, let alone her sweet little angel. Something must be done.

That night, after sending you sweet dreams, she sneaks over to their place and hides just outside of their bedroom door. She’s able to track their brain activity, so she knows when they’ve gone to sleep. Once they do, she sends them their worst nightmares, ones that paralyze them in their sleep out of fear. The next day, you don’t see them at their usual time. You figure maybe they’re sick or they overslept. In the meantime, she’s there to keep you company. It happens on and off with them for some odd reason.

If it’s one of the Avengers taking an interest in you, Wanda ensures that the two of you don’t get too close. If you go on a mission and need a partner, Wanda steps up. It’s not really a surprise to them, with her being your girlfriend and all. She glares at the Avenger who’s showing interest, letting them know to stay back.

=========================================

And then shit hits the fan.

You come back to the compound in tears one night and Wanda’s the first one at your side.

“(Y/N), what happened?” she asks worried.

You tell her about how you ran into someone who said that autism is a disease that needs to be cured and that you shouldn’t exist because you’re a burden on society. Wanda doesn’t leave your side that night. You need someone there for you. Externally she’s supportive and loving. But internally, she’s both heartbroken and fuming as she looks through the memory. A fire storms inside of her. How dare they tell such a sweet and pure soul like you that they’re a burden! How dare they say her sweet angel has a disease that needs to be cured! Wanda knows that autism has its challenges, but also its upsides. It’s not anything that needs a cure. It’s a part of your identity. She will NOT let this slide. Not even a little.

After cuddling with you, and sending extra-special sweet dreams that night, Wanda finds the place of the person who told you this. Wanda sneaks into their bedroom and induces their worst nightmares, along with a dose of sleep paralysis. She uses her telekinesis to throw objects around the room and even at them. She uses her power to make them choke. Her grief and anger only amplifies the severity. It’s satisfying to her to hear them scream, plead, beg for mercy, to see them so helpless, knowing what they said to her precious angel. She keeps doing this to them until they’re completely broken, even going back multiple nights, just to make sure they’re gone for good.

You don’t hear from them until you find out that they’ve become completely catatonic. Part of you still feels bad for them for some reason, but you don’t know why.

“You have nothing to feel bad about, (Y/N),” Wanda assures you when you bring this up with her. “Their guilt probably just got the best of them. C’mon, how about we get some lunch together?”

Wanda’s got your back and more for the next few days. And then Tony locks her in her room, and you’re infuriated. He just sees her as a weapon and not a person. In spite of their attempts to convince you to come along on missions, you decide to stay back and keep Wanda company, to make her confinement more bearable.

The two of you both fight Tony together, end up in the Raft, and escape together, living away from the compound. Then comes the war. You’re the one dusted and Wanda survives. Those five years without you are hell to her. She spirals back into grief, guilt, and trauma, blaming herself for not being able to save you. Thank God for Bruce Banner. In 2023, he brings you back. The second Wanda finds this out, she rushes for you, her eyes filled with tears, and you’re just as relieved to see her. Your warmth sparks a sense of purpose back into her. After you died and were brought back to life, to her you’re truly an angel now, and she refuses to let an angel be harmed. She’s reluctant to let you fight, but she tells you as long as you stay by her, it should be fine.

Tony sacrifices himself to save you all from Thanos. The second the funeral is over, you decide to take a nap. Wanda gently grabs you and takes you to a remote location; a cottage in the middle of the woods on an island. Those five years without you and then suddenly having you back sent her protective instincts into overdrive. She decides that she can’t let anyone or anything hurt you anymore. She’s lost her parents and her brother. She can’t lose you. She won’t lose you.

When you come to, you’re shocked about where you are.

“H-huh?”

Sitting up you begin to panic when you hear a familiar voice.

“Good! You’re awake.”

The smell of paprika hits your nose as you see her face, a sweet smile upon it.

“W-wanda?”

She brings over a plate of chicken paprikash.

“What do you think, (y/n)?” she asks.

“Of what?”

She gives a little giggle.

“Of our new home, of course.”

Your heart jumps in your chest.

“New home?”

Wanda sets down the food on a nearby table, and sits next to you on the bed you’ve been placed in.

“(Y/N), I.....those past five years....”

“Must’ve been horrific,” you say, still in shock.

She nods.

“And I wish I could’ve saved you.”

She gently takes ahold of your hands.

“And now that you’re back....I’m scared to lose you. I want us to be together forever.”

Your face flushes, and you glance away. She giggles a little and gently guides your face back up to her.

“My sweet (y/n), you’re too adorable,” she tells you.

Your eyes meet the bridge of her nose, and she doesn’t make you look at her eyes. She knows eye contact can be hell for you.

“I’ve missed this energy so much; I’ve missed your kind-hearted nature, your beautiful voice, your wide and innocent eyes, that cute little button nose, you cuddling up close to me. I’ve set everything in this cottage up just for you. I want you to be as comfortable and happy as possible here.”

“Where exactly are we, though?” you ask.

“Somewhere where you’ll never be hurt again. I’ll ensure that.”

This set off a slight red flag, and you panic a little.

“We couldn’t have just moved to a house in the suburbs or maybe a house in Greece?”

She shakes her head as she pets yours, something that absolutely gives you butterflies.

“No. This world doesn’t deserve an angel like you, sweet (y/n). You have such a pure soul-you are a pure soul-and the world outside will only hurt you. Sweet and innocent people, especially at your age, are very rare. They’re like diamonds; real diamonds. They’re extremely difficult to find, but once you do, they’re a treasure that needs to be protected. I want to be that for you. I want to protect you, keep you safe, love you and care for you. This cottage, this island, it can become a whole new world. At least give it a try? For me? Please?”

You want to say no, right? You’re not sure. It feels like something inside of you is at war, but one side is winning. Wanda’s clearly relieved to have you, and you’ve loved her for a long time now as she’s loved you for a long time now. You feel comfortable around her too. Perhaps a little protection might not be the worst idea. At the very least, a trial run wouldn’t hurt.

You nod.

“Okay, I’ll give it a go.”

Wanda hugs you close and gives you a small peck on the cheek.

“Thank you, my sweet (y/n)! Thank you.”

The two of you have dinner together and then watch a few sitcoms before you cuddle up in bed as Wanda softly sings you a Sokovian lullaby, your head lying near her shoulder. As you drift off to sleep, Wanda watches you endearingly. What you don’t know is that you’re going to enjoy being here. She’d love it if it’s on your own terms, but if you start to seem distant, she won’t hesitate to use her magic to send some suggestions. Maybe it’s to prompt you to ask her to include or remove or change something, or even to enhance your joy for the little things. Extreme worst-case scenario? She’ll plague you with a few nightmares, ones that’ll show you how dangerous the outside world is without her, but it will pain her to do so. Expect a lot of cuddling and kisses from her when you wake up in tears in the hopes of making things better. And she makes sure they do. All she wants is for you to stay and be happy and safe with her.

And even if you wanted to leave, it’s doubtful that even with your powers, you’ll get past the barrier Wanda’s put up. It’s doubtful that you’ll even get that far. It’s a big island after all. Big and deserted. She wants to give you enough space, but not too much. Just enough to make you happy. If you somehow find it, Wanda will make sure you’ll forget finding it. She’ll fill in the gaps with something else so that it doesn’t seem suspicious. It’s not surprising that she knows how to deal with so many outcomes; she’s had five years to think it over, after all, just in case you came back.

But none of that matters right now. All that matters is that she has you, her precious angel, and you’ll be hers forever one way or the other.

#yandere marvel #marvel #yandere!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x autistic!reader #yandere!wanda maximoff #yandere avengers #Avengers #scarlet witch #yandere!scarlet witch #yandere x reader #avengers x you #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #autistic fanfics #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff x reader

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years

Note

Hey, you once mentioned something about Tom Riddle being a little suicidal. Your new post reminded of that and I wonder why you think that. It’s the complete opposite of what the books want you to think.

Alright, it’s time, let’s do this.

My standard disclaimer whenever we venture into the dark pit that is my thoughts on Tom Riddle: I’m going to say a lot of controversial stuff that fandom generally doesn’t agree with, I will say so much of this shit that I simply do not have time to explain it all, I expect 99% of you to disagree with me and the other 1% to be so horrifyingly offended that I dare to contemplate a world in which Tom isn’t always an overly competent psychopath that they leave me notes telling me to take this trash out of their character tags.

We good? Alright.

So, when I say a little suicidal, I mean that he is suicidal.

Not on the level that he’s going to kill himself tomorrow, or even has plans to kill himself, but in that he makes very strange decisions for someone who desperately wants to live.

And yes, I realize I speak blasphemy given that Tom Riddle’s entire m.o. is supposed to be his crippling fear of death.

Oh man, this one’s going to be so long.

So, my reasoning comes down to a few things:

The location of the horcruxes and the nature of their protections.

The events of Deathly Hallows and Tom’s final actions in the novel

The nature of horcruxes and what it means to not only be able to create one but what it does to you (caveat that I am going to headcanon hard here and speak utter blasphemy)

So, let’s start in order this time, because I think the first two are actually far easier for me to explain.

The Location and Nature of the Horcrux Protections and the Trouble with Backdoors in Security

So, first, the horcruxes are all conveniently located in Great Britain. Not even just in Great Britain, all in places that Albus Dumbledore and later Harry Potter can track down with relative ease, all fairly close to each other.

Now, part of this is undoubtedly attributable to Tom’s overly romantic nature.

Yes, Tom Riddle is a giant romantic, though not necessarily in the traditional sense everyone thinks of. The film “Patton” and its treatment of Patton comes to mind. Tom Riddle is a man enamored by a sense of greatness, of being remembered in this world rather than fading into oblivion, by the significance of places and times in history not only of the world but of himself. He creates an entire, grand, persona for himself because to live an ordinary life for him is to be worthy of nothing.

So, given that, of course Tom places the horcruxes in sentimental locations that have personal meaning to him.

However, it also makes them perilously easy to find and collect.

By itself, this wouldn’t spark my notice.

The ability to destroy horcruxes are not easy to come by. There’s only one basilisk and it’s by chance/Lucius fucking up that Harry gains access to the necessary basilisk venom. Using Fyendfire is an incredibly dangerous thing to do and just as likely to blow up you and the next three towns over as it is to destroy a horcrux. And if there are other means of destroying a horcrux they’re just as hard to come by or just as dangerous.

It’s not quite throwing it into the fires of Mt. Doom from which it was forged but it’s pretty damn close.

So, really, without JKR’s convenient Deus Ex Machina giving both him and Dumbledore the means to actually destroy these things, Tom Riddle’s horcruxes are pretty damn safe no matter where we put them. As we see from the locket, which Regulus manages to collect but Kreacher cannot destroy even after several decades.

However, what does spark my notice, is that the horcruxes can be collected by someone other than Tom Riddle when it appears as if they were never intended to be. What do I mean by this?

From what we see, there’s no benefit to Tom if the original horcruxes are found by anyone. He doesn’t seek them out to restore his original body, they’re just anchor points that should be hidden at all costs. So, he’ll never need a Death Eater to go collect them for him should he be indisposed (indeed, to do so would require a tremendous amount of trust in people he has very little trust in).

So, why hide them in such a way that others can access them? There are canon based options which would have prevented anyone else from reaching them. Given the existence of age lines, I imagine Tom Riddle could make some arbitrary barrier keyed only to himself. There are mokeskin pouches, such as the one Harry is given in the seventh book, which we know can only be accessed by whoever they’re keyed to. There’s the Fidelius Charm which, true requires a secret keeper which Tom would be very meh on, but options exist.

Tom Riddle could wipe the locations of his horcruxes off the face of the map. He chooses not to. Which leads me to believe that, at least on some unconscious level, he wants the horcruxes to be found.

Then we have the protections.

Specifically, I’m thinking of the locket here.

Yes, the protections are very formidable, but they’re also goddamn weird.

Rather than make the horcrux simply inaccessible, kill all those intruding, instead the intruder has to go through a very “Saw” like puzzle in which they drown themselves in despair until they finally get the locket, at which point they likely suicide by zombie.

More, there’s no hint that there’s any other way to retrieve the locket.

Backdoors in security are a very bad idea. What they do is weaken the security as a whole and, if you can take a short cut is, it means that someone who is clever enough and motivated enough can to. Dumbledore is both clever and motivated enough, and I imagine if there was a way to get the horcrux that involved not doing this ridiculous task he would have done it.

More, we’d be back to the land of Tom making sure only he can access the horcrux by requiring a password, keying it to his magical signature, or something so that no one else could get it.

Which means, that’s right, if Tom wants to get the locket he’s drinking the goddamn despair juice just like the rest of us.

What kind of a person would do any of this?

I’ve gone over this before, but I don’t think Tom Riddle’s crazy. Rather, in this case, I think he’s driven by an unbelievable amount of nihilist rage and is also quite depressed.

Tom goes to collect his horcrux, “Ah, it’s time to remember what a miserable life I’ve led and the sheer awfulness of my own existence. Good, I was starting to feel a little too happy. Let’s see if I get eaten by my undead, vengeful, victims today.”

The Events of Deathly Hallows and Tom Riddle’s Death

I think Tom Riddle’s final death in the books was suicide.

Tom takes over the Wizarding World, finally, and it’s as miserable as ever.

He’s trapped in this sham, barely functional, probably very painful body. His Death Eaters are completely out of control and for all that he wanted society to burn it’s now burning and no one’s even learned anything from this. Children in Hogwarts are being routinely tortured and have now staged a rebellion in which he’s having to slaughter them (I have reasons to believe that this is not what Tom Riddle wanted, at all, but that’s best saved for another post), and then he learns his horcruxes have all been destroyed without him even noticing.

There’s so little left of him, he has accomplished nothing, and there’s Harry Potter back from the dead yet again, gloating at him that love conquers all and Tom Riddle will never understand.

And Harry’s right, Tom Riddle will never understand, the world is meaningless and flat to him now and he finally understand that there’s no point to it. I think Tom Riddle decides he’s done. He’s just done.

He enters in a duel with Harry Potter knowing the weird nature of their wands. Now, it can be assumed he used the Elder Wand, but we know they get locked in Priori Incatatum , and that makes no damn sense with the Elder Wand (well, wandlore in general is silly, but I’m working with what JKR gave me here). So I choose to take JKR at her somewhat established canon and say that, no matter what Harry thought, Voldemort was using his original wand.

He throws out the killing curse, despite having now witnessed Harry resurrecting twice to this thing, and within two seconds it rebounds and kills him.

Voldemort’s death is a lot like this scene from the recent, terrible, 2020 live action Mulan (10/10 do not recommend). Now, we’re supposed to think that this scene is the witch saving Mulan’s life and thus showing her hope for the next generation. In actuality, the witch literally flies into an arrow she could have easily deflected from Mulan’s path. It’s a suicide that Mulan is too stupid to notice.

Tom chooses suicide in the most ridiculous, flamboyant, and easily written off manner one can and no one even notices. Instead Harry crows that he has personally defeated Voldemort, with the power of love no less, HUZZAH!

And the castle parties.

The Nature of Horcruxes

I almost don’t want to include this because it’s so... well, I’m really drifting far from canon and fandom now.

However, with horcruxes, there’s always an overriding question of why Tom is able to make so many when we don’t see anyone else with these things around (especially as it’s clear that murder doesn’t simply happen for those that now have horcruxes).

Usually, you have fic authors just sort of shrug and go, “Well, he’s that evil, I guess.” Sometimes you have them go, “No one else is crazy enough to keep going, and that’s why Voldemort’s cuckoo bananas.”

One very good explanation I’ve seen is that it’s because most people, when they murder, feel remorse immediately. The soul split happens, but they’re haunted by the murder for the rest of their life, and thus the horcrux isn’t made. Voldemort, feeling nothing when he kills anyone, is thus able to make them even for when he’s only indirectly associated with the death in question.

However, to me that never really jived philosophically.

Mostly, I simply cannot imagine that tearing apart your very soul is an act of indifference. Here’s how I see it: to do something like that to yourself, you must care, you must care beyond all imagine and human endurance. Your soul literally cannot abide it and saws itself in half, purging what you cannot stand about yourself the most.

The remorse part is, yes, remorse for the act and the victim but more to the point it is the ability to forgive and reaccept the worst part of yourself. That part of yourself that you purged and destroyed, which is nearly impossible to do and might very well destroy the fabric of who you are).

In other words, while creating a horcrux is an abominable act of hatred, it is also one of profound self-hatred.

Tom Riddle loathes himself so much that he is able to do this over and over and over again.

As Tom Riddle goes on he makes himself into less and less and less of himself until he probably doesn’t even know who he is anymore. He just knows, whatever is left of him, he loathes that too.

And then, of course, he gives up, runs into the nearest flying arrow, and dies.

TL;DR: Tom Riddle’s is a miserable existence that ended in a miserable if unintentionally hilarious manner

#ask #anon #tom riddle #voldemort

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