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st4rfckerz · 8 months

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Church Mouse | Priest!Anakin Skywalker x reader

word count: 4.0k

warnings: MDNI 18+, blasphemy, age gap (reader is in her 20s), mild manipulation, infedelity, pet names, dubcon, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, virginity loss, rushed ending dead dove do not eat

summary: After confessing your sins to the priest, he encourages you to talk to him privately.

The sun shone brightly outside the church windows, casting warm rays across the peaceful town square. Birds sang melodiously in trees lining the peaceful avenue leading to the church building. Inside, candles flickered gently, casting warm light on the ornate wooden pews filled with devoted parishioners.

Many attendees wore their finest clothes as they listened intently to Father Anakin's sermons, occasionally whispering prayers under their breath or reaching for their rosaries. The scent of incense mixed pleasantly with perfume and cologne wafting through the air.

"Today's lesson is about finding solace in our faith during difficult times, we have all faced trials and tribulations throughout life, but remember that God is always with us, guiding us through these dark moments," he paused dramatically, letting the words sink in before adding. "Just like how I am here for you all, If anyone needs guidance or support outside of church hours, please don't hesitate to visit me personally."

The crowd applauded politely, some even raising their hands in praise.

Anakin stood tall and proud in front of his congregation, his hands resting gracefully atop each other in prayer position. "But first, let us pray," he began solemnly. Everyone followed suit, kneeling on their knees, and bowing their heads in unison. He led them in a heartfelt prayer asking for strength and guidance throughout the week ahead. Your eyes were closed tightly as you prayed fervently, the beads of you rosary clicking softly in rhythm with each breath you took.

The prayer ends and you raise your head. Anakin's warm eyes met yours briefly before returning his gaze to the congregation. "Remember, my dear friends, if you ever need someone to turn to in times of trouble or doubt, I am here for you. Now, let us proceed with the sermon." He said softly yet firmly.

Anakin's sermon lasted well beyond the usual hour mark, his words resonating deeply within you. He talked about sin and repentance, forgiveness and redemption. Each sentence seemed tailored specifically for you, hitting hard at places you didn't even know existed. His voice was mesmerizing, lulling you into a trance-like state where all you could think about was him.

After thanking everyone for attending church today, Anakin announced that confessionals would remain open for anyone who needed to speak with him privately. He urged those waiting outside the confessional booths to enter one by one. People started lining up outside the confessional booths, waiting patiently for their turn to unburden themselves.

You hesitated briefly, unsure whether you should go or not.

Finally, mustering up courage, you walked slowly towards the nearest booth, taking deep breaths to calm yourself.

You couldn't help but notice how many women seemed particularly entranced by Father Anakin; they hung onto his every word during sermons and lingered longer than necessary after Mass ended. Some even approached him directly after services, seeking personal guidance or counsel.

When it was finally your turn, you nervously stepped inside the dimly lit booth. The thick wooden panel separated you from him, giving you some semblance of privacy. You hoped no one could hear what you were about to say.

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned." You begin timidly.

You could hear his soothing voice responding softly, "What is it my child? Remember, here you can speak freely without fear of judgment." His deep baritone reverberated through the wooden walls, making your knees tremble slightly.

Unsure of how to begin, you struggled to find the right words. Your voice trembled slightly as you managed to spit out the confession that had been weighing heavily on your mind for days now.

"I had an encounter with a boy and it was wrong," You explain. "He touched me Father." The admission felt like a heavy stone being lifted off your chest, but also brought forth a wave of guilt and shame.

Your heart raced faster than ever before, and you could feel sweat forming on your palms as they clutched tightly onto the confession railing.

Anakin's eyes narrowed slightly, a slight frown creeping onto his otherwise serene face.

His warmth radiated off him like a furnace, making you feel as if you were melting in his presence. "And did you enjoy it?" he asked bluntly, his tone laced with curiosity rather than judgment.

Slightly taken aback you respond meekly, "No sir."

After a brief pause, he continued, his tone becoming more commanding. "Meet me in my office once everyone has left." With that cryptic statement, you hear his door open, signaling the end of confession time. After gathering yourself, you cautiously left the booth and returned to the previously vacant pew.

As everyone else left the almost empty church, you sat in silence and waited. The sun casted a warm, golden light through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the pews surrounding you. It was only you and a woman only a few years your senior. The woman's eyes lingered on Anakin hungrily as she waited for him to acknowledge her presence

The woman, dressed in a somewhat modest dress and heels, stood in front of Anakin. They engaged in conversation for several minutes, their voices low enough that you couldn't make out what they were discussing. Anakin gave you a small nod towards the hallway leading to his office, indicating you should wait outside while he finished up with the other woman. Reluctantly, you stepped into the empty hallway, trying to calm your racing heartbeat. Every step felt like walking on eggshells, and every sound echoed loudly in your ears. Finally, after what seemed like forever, you reach his office.

With haste, you slip inside and shut the door. You sat nervously in the chair, trying to compose yourself as you waited for Anakin to finish his conversation with the woman. The office itself was tastefully decorated, featuring a large wooden desk with numerous religious trinkets and pictures of Jesus Christ adorning the walls. Bookshelves lined one wall, filled with volumes on religion, philosophy, and psychology. A large cross hung prominently above his desk, casting eerie shadows across the room.

The door creaked open, and Anakin stepped inside, closing and locking it behind him. His long legs striding confidently towards you as you remain sitting in your chair. Reaching out, he gently caressed your cheek with his warm palm, his fingers brushing against your jawline. His touch sent electric shockwaves through your body, making it hard for you to focus on anything but him.

"Did you enjoy today's sermon little lamb?" He asks softly.

"Yes Father," You managed to croak out, your voice cracking slightly. "It was very moving."

Anakin walks over to his desk and sits down across from you, his presence nearly overpowering as he leaned forward in his chair. His large frame loomed over you, making you feel small and insignificant yet simultaneously drawn to him.

"I noticed how attentive you've been during my sermons," he admitted with a slight smirk. "It's quite flattering, actually." You couldn't help but blush at his candid admission, feeling a strange mixture of embarrassment and excitement wash over you.

"Now, tell me more about this encounter you mentioned during confession," he said calmly, leaning forward slightly. His presence was suffocating yet strangely comforting, making it difficult for you to form coherent sentences. "What exactly happened between you and this boy?"

"W-well the other day me and this boy were studying together, and then he kissed me." you admitted sheepishly.

"Is that all he did?" Anakin pressed, his eyes boring into yours. His question caught you off guard, and you hesitated before answering truthfully.

"No sir, when we kissed he put his fingers...inside me." Your face flushed even brighter at your confession, and you felt heat rising in your chest. Anakin's expression remained unchanged, but you could feel the heat emanating from him intensifying.

"Was it consensual?" he asked bluntly, his eyes boring into yours.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure how to respond. On one hand, you knew what you had done was wrong, but another part of you couldn't deny the thrill and excitement it brought you

"Yes Father," you whispered softly, barely audible above the ticking clock on his desk. You hung your head low in shame, tears threatening to spill over at the thought of betraying your faith. "But I didn't...you know." Anakin's brow furrowed slightly, his eyes searching yours intently. He raised an eyebrow, his gaze intensifying. Anakin paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully.

"You didn't have an orgasm." He stated bluntly, his tone devoid of judgment. You shake your head quickly, too embarrassed to speak again.

He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk, his forearms resting on his knees. His icy blue eyes bore into yours, searching for some hidden truth that you refused to admit. "It's natural for a young woman like yourself to be curious about her body and sexuality," he said matter-of-factly. "But remember, these desires must be channeled appropriately. God created us with these urges, but we must learn to control them."

Anakin rose from his chair, towering over you as he extended a hand towards his own seat. "Please, sit," he commanded softly, his voice carrying an underlying command that left no room for refusal. You hesitantly stood up and walked tentatively towards him, your heart racing wildly in anticipation of what was to come.

Anakin stood behind you as you sat in his big, leather chair. He opened a large, leather-bound Bible on the desk, flipping through the pages until he found a particular passage. "Read this passage aloud for me," he commanded softly, his hands resting lightly on the arms of the chair. "I believe it might resonate with you." You cleared your throat and began to read the passage about self control, giving it your best effort despite the heavy breathing behind you.

"2 Peter 1:4 Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature, having escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires." You read quietly. Anakin listened intently as you read the passage, his fingers lightly tracing circles on your nape and down your spine. With each touch, your brain became foggier, making it difficult for you to concentrate on the words written centuries ago.

"That's beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and husky. Anakin leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you understand what these words mean?" he whispers.

"Yes Father." You reply quietly. Anakin's fingers traced lower, brushing against your cleavage through your top. "Good girl," he praised, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Now, I want you to close your eyes and imagine that these words are being spoken directly to you by God Himself."

He leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Imagine that He's telling you, 'My child, I love you unconditionally. You are mine, and no one else can ever take that away from you.' Do you feel it spreading throughout your body?" A surge of warmth washed over you like a tidal wave. It started at your feet and spread upwards, engulfing every inch of your body. You shivered in delight as goosebumps formed on your skin.

Anakin flipped the Bible page to another passage, his fingers brushing against yours lightly as he did so. "Now, read this one aloud for me, 1 Thessalonians 4:3-5" he commanded softly, his warm breath tickling your earlobe.

You obediently did as he commanded, trying hard not to focus on the growing arousal between your legs. You clear your throat and speak again.

"For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God."

As you read the passage, Anakin's lips traced slow, gentle kisses along your neck, his breath hot against your skin. Each touch ignited a fire within you, making it increasingly difficult to focus on the words written on the page. Anakin's lips reached your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin.

"You're still pure, aren't you?" he asked softly, nipping lightly at your earlobe. "No one has ever claimed you like this before?" His hand reaches down and slides underneath your skirt, brushing his knuckles against your wet, cotton panties.

"Yes." you managed to choke out, your voice cracking with desire. Your body arched into his touch, begging for more. You bit your bottom lip hard, trying to suppress the moan escaping your throat as he continued to tease and torment you. You felt your resolve crumble beneath his relentless assault on your senses. His words had substance, they seemed so full of meaning. You were mesmerized.

Anakin groaned lowly, his voice low and husky. "I knew there was something special about you, my church mouse," he whispered in your ear, his breath warm and intoxicating. Anakin's hand moved to the edge of your panties, his warm fingers pulling them to the side. His thumb teased your throbbing clit, circling around it slowly. "You weren't this wet when that boy touched you, were you?" he purred, his voice filled with satisfaction.

"N-no Father, I wasn't." you moan softly, unable to contain the growing need building inside of you. Anakin's fingers plunge into your aching cunt, moving in and out of your tight entrance slowly at first, his thumb still circling your sensitive nub. His breathing grew heavier, matching the rapid pace of your own as he continued to explore your most sacred parts.

"That's my girl," he praised, his voice laced with lust. "Feel how much you need me?"

You nodded vigorously, unable to form coherent words as his touch escalated. Each curl of his fingers inside your drooling cunt heightened your arousal, making it nearly impossible for you to concentrate on anything else. His touch was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before—it was both rough and tender, possessive yet caring. The combination of his power and gentleness left you feeling both terrified and exhilarated at the same time.

Soon your body tensed up, and you could feel your orgasm building rapidly. Anakin pulled his fingers out of your core just as you reached the brink of ecstasy, leaving you hanging on the edge of orgasm.

"No, why'd you stop?" you whine softly as you turn around to face him. You pouted, your lower lip quivering in frustration as he denied you the release you so desperately craved.

A smirk played at the corners of his lips. "Not yet, little lamb." he teased, his voice laced with power and control. Anakin stood up straight again, his erection straining against his pants. He pulled your chair back slightly, creating enough room for him to stand in front of you. His large frame loomed over you as he placed a hand on your cheek, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

Anakin's eyes bore into yours, searching for any signs of hesitation or deceit. "Do you pray every night?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded earnestly, unable to hide the truth from him. "Yes, Father. I pray every night before bed." Anakin knelt down in front of you, his broad shoulders framing your body. His hands moved to rest on your knees, his thumbs rubbing slow circles over your skin.

"What do you pray for? What do you ask of God?" Anakin asks softly, his eyes searching yours intently.

You glanced down at your lap, unable to meet his piercing gaze. "I ask for strength and guidance, mostly." you mumbled, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck.

Anakin's eyes narrowed slightly, studying your reaction. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his voice low and husky. "Good," His hand moved up your leg, lifting your skirt enough to expose your panty-clad pussy. "I can't help but notice how devoted you are during my sermons," he said, his voice dripping with false concern. "It would be a sin for me not to reward my favorite student.

With one swift motion, he yanked your panties down to your ankles, exposing your slick coated cunt to his hungry eyes. Anakin placed your leg on his shoulder, giving him better access to your now-exposed folds. His warm, wet tongue traced slow circles around your entrance before dipping inside, his tongue flicking against your sensitive spots with expert precision.

"Read again," he commanded, his voice mumbling against your warm flesh. "Proverbs 18:21."

You fumbled with the Bible, your hands shaking slightly as you tried to focus on the words written on its pages.

"The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit."

Anakin hums in approval against your mound, causing a rush of vibrations to flow through your body. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, trying to block out the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. Your grip tightened on his hair, pulling him closer, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp.

You whimpered, your body tensing up in anticipation of imminent orgasm. "Father, I-I feel it coming again." you managed to choke out between moans.

Anakin's hand moved to your entrance, two fingers slipping inside of you, stretching you wider. "That's it," he said, his voice low and husky. "Let go and let yourself succumb to His will."

A wave of pure ecstasy crashed over you, your entire body convulsed, and a string of lewd moans escaped your lips. Your orgasm was unlike anything you had ever experienced before—more intense, more powerful, and more fulfilling than any previous encounter. It felt as though the heavens themselves were opening up to claim your soul.

Anakin's tongue continued to lap up your juices, his eyes locked on yours as he savored the taste of your arousal. With a smirk, he stood up straight again, towering over you in all his glory. Anakin's eyes were ablaze with desire as he stood over you, his hardened cock straining against his pants.

"We're not quite done yet," he said, his voice low and raspy. "Stand up."

He reached down, undoing his pants and boxers in one swift motion, freeing his thick member from its confines. It stood tall and proud, glistening with pre-cum, its head flushed a deep crimson.

"Bend over," he ordered. Slowly, you stood up and turned around, your back facing him. Anakin's hands gripped your hips, positioning you over the desk. You felt his cock poking against your ass, and a shiver of anticipation ran down your spine.

Anakin's large, calloused hands gripped your firm ass cheeks, squeezing and kneading them roughly. His fingers traced slow circles around your puckered entrance before moving lower, teasing your wet folds. He held his member in his other hand, rubbing the head against your entrance, teasing you mercilessly. "Do you still want this sweet girl?"

You gave a soft, breathy moan of approval, your hips wiggling slightly in anticipation. Anakin's hand connected with your ass cheek, a sharp slap that made you yelp in surprise.

"Speak up."

You cleared your throat, trying to regain composure. "Yes, Father." you finally managed to utter, your voice trembling with need.

"There you go." he coos his voice filled with faux sincerity. "Now, relax and let me take care of you." Anakin's cockhead pushed past your tight entrance, stretching you slowly but surely. A sharp cry escaped your lips as he began to thrust into you with deliberate slowness, his hips rocking back and forth in a rhythmic motion.

Your hands gripped the edge of the desk tightly, nails digging into the wood as he claimed possession of you, filling you completely. After several deep thrusts, the initial pain subsided, replaced by an overwhelming wave of pleasure. Anakin's hands keep hold of your hips, holding you steady as he pounded into you, filling every crevice of your tight passage. Your moans turned into whimpers, becoming more desperate as he picked up speed, his tip kissed your sweet spot with precision.

"Thaaat's it, give yourself to Him, let him cleanse you." he managed to grunt out between gasps for breath.

Your hand slipped off the desk, accidentally knocking over a family photo frame that fell to the floor with a loud crash. Anakin didn't seem to notice or care, his focus entirely on claiming you, taking what he believed was rightfully his.

The tight coil in your stomach began to build up once more, and you knew it wouldn't be long now. You arched your back, your hips moving in sync with his, begging for release. His pace quickened, his breath hot against your neck as he growled out, "Cum for me angel, I know you're close." His words were like a trigger, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

Anakin groaned, his hips bucking wildly as he felt your worn cunt clamp around him. With a final powerful thrust, he erupted inside you, filling you to the brim with his hot seed. His cock twitched and pulsed, draining every drop of his essence into you.

You collapsed against the desk, panting heavily, your entire body covered in sweat. Anakin leaned forward, his lips brushing against your shoulder. His cock slowly pulled out of your sore cunt, leaving you feeling empty and drained. He stepped back, admiring his work, his cock still semi-erect, dripping with your fluids. He extended a hand to help you steady yourself. Anakin turned to you, his eyes softening slightly. "Are you ok sweetheart?" he asked, concern etched on his features.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. " 'm fine," you managed to mutter, your voice hoarse.

"You did so good for me," Anakin panted, his eyes glazed over with fufillment. He helped you pull your panties back up your legs, his fingers brushing against your sensitive folds, causing a shiver to run through you.

Anakin sat back down in his chair, and motioned for you to sit on his lap. "Come here." he smiles. You tentatively approached him with wobbly legs, unsure of what he had in mind. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close, so you were sitting sideways on his lap, your legs draped over his thighs. Anakin placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head, his breath tickling your scalp. You remained like this for a moment, both caught in your own thoughts.

Breaking the silence, Anakin spoke softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your arm. "I want you to know something angel," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I would never hurt you, physically or otherwise. Our interactions are between us and God's eyes alone." You nodded, still processing everything that had transpired.

"If anyone ever finds out about today, we won't be able to see each other like this again." Anakin's hand tightened slightly, his fingers digging into your skin. "Do you understand me?" he asked, his voice taking on a threatening edge.

You nodded solemnly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I understand Father."

Anakin placed another soft kiss on your head before resting his cheek against your temple, his hand still firmly holding you in place.

"Good girl." he whispered.

Your eyes wander off and you suddenly see a cross hanging on the wall, the sight of it immediately brought an uneasy feeling to you. It felt like it was casting a small ominous and disapproving aura.

Uncertainty and confusion warred inside you, but there was also a strange sense of belonging and connection.

As you stare longer you feel as if it's judging you and looking at you as if it is not happy with what you have been doing.

You remain in his arms, you felt an odd mix of emotions, the sense of euphoria and bliss you felt with Anakin being so tender with you was overshadowed by the feeling of something not being right. You feel a tinge of regret for what you took part in but a part of you wants to do it again.

Maybe next Sunday.

#nai writes ୨୧ #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin #anakin skywalker x you #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #st4rfckerz

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pastel-greene · 1 month

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The Daughter | king!sukuna x curse user!reader

Prologue | Chapter 1 - The Summons | Chapter 2

Summary: The mother of curses happens upon a blind child and decides to impart a portion of her power to them as an experiment of sorts. The power morphs the child in their image until they are part curse and part human. So what happens when they get employed by the King of Curses? Will humanity bloom as newfound emotions flow between the two? Or will they usher in an era of never ending terror?

Notes: not all of this will be canon, it will be loosely based off of the jjk universe :) taglist is open, comment ur request on any chapter to be tagged in the next

Genre: female reader, fluff, angst, ‘loads’ of smut, violence, sukuna true form but like not with the weird face just two sets of stuff, dark reader

Warnings: profanity, explicit smut (two dick sukuna, sadistic sex, sub reader, dom sukuna, biting, oral m & f receiving, pet names, more to be added), violence, depictions of gore, dark minds cause yk, mentions of rape, toxic relationships, chaotic neutral reader, trauma, possessiveness from reader and sukuna, torture, vampire themes (reader’s blood is infused with the Mother of curses so if a curse user is to drink it it basically gives them a temporary stat boost bc what can i say vampire sukuna seems hot), and more to be added as the story progresses

Word count: 7.3k

This work contains mature content, so absolutely no minors I will block you if I find out :)

His eyes glaze over as they roam your body. The need within them allowing you to twirl his inhibitions around your finger and use them as a leash to guide him. He knows he shouldn’t let you close, but closer you get and god does it feel good. He knows he shouldn’t follow your command without an ounce a dignity, but oh how he wants to please you. He would do anything for you without a single question now that all his pesky thoughts were gone. The perfect toy to play with.

The man before you is the leader of a growing religious faction that preached about being able to save people from damnation for only a small price. He made promises of how his newfound god could protect anyone from the horrors of the world and all they needed to do was follow a set of rules— and of course money. It started with one bronze coin before growing to three silver coins. It also started as something one could choose to participate in before it slowly turned into a cult you were forced to be apart of. If you didn’t have money to pay the initiation fee, then you had to give up something else. If you were a married man, you could give up your virgin daughter and be granted a higher position in the hierarchy. If you didn’t have a daughter then you could give up your wife for general admission. If you were a woman without a husband, then you often were never seen again. If you didn’t willingly give one, then they would come and take what they falsely claimed was theirs and justify it with the name of religion. Sometimes even if you gave one, they would come back to take the other.

This contract came to you from a woman whose husband had sold their daughter. She didn’t offer anything material, but begged you to take her offer. You’re not one for charity, but you are one for dark pleasures. You asked if she would kill her husband and then herself, as punishment and payment for not protecting their daughter’s safety. She didn’t even hesitate to say yes. All she could think about was freeing her daughter from their grasp, her loss of life was of no consequence, and killing her husband… Killing her husband for selling their daughter away like a piece of meat would just be an added bonus.

So here you are, in the preacher’s chambers showing him a facade of paradise. Your smiles, your laughs, you lingering touches driving him further and further away from reason. Your power seeped into him, you could do it immediately and have him never see it coming, but that would be too easy. You wanted him to remember making the decisions that led to his downfall. You want to see the mortified look on his face as he realizes he chose this fate. The way his face would contort from panic as the weight of his sins crashes down on him. The way the panic would blend into fear fueled hysteria as he started lashing out and revealing the rest of his true colors. So you’re taking the long way. You’re setting everything into place so everyone can witness a showcase of reality that’ll send them into chaos.

”Mistress please, let me touch you,” he says begs while blindfolded to a chair. A chair he didn’t know had been transported to a very public area that people started to flock to. Horror and disgust on their features as they watched the man who boasted about how high and mighty he was begging for sexual pleasure. Your powers infected his senses so he couldn’t hear or feel anything you didn’t want him to. They also kept any party crashes from getting too close to the scene.

”Wrong line,” you said before letting the sturdy piece of wood in your hand lash against his skin. He let out a scream accompanied with a melody of sorries.

”Mother I have sinned,” a smile crept across your face at the ode to your Mother.

”Is that so? List me your sins and oink after each one to show what a filthy fucking pig you are.”

”I have lied to the people in this city. The god I made is not real, I made them up from a story I heard a few towns over. They were all just stupid and desperate enough to believe in it and hand over all of their valuables, oink!.”

The crowd’s faces were painted with disbelief and anger as the truth was unveiled. Dark thoughts started brewing between them making your blood hum as they continued to watch the scene unfold.

You let the wood crack down on the tops of his bare thighs once again, “What else are you guilty of?”

”I took their wives and daughters for my own sadistic pleasures. Me and the higher ups used those filthy bitches while they kicked and screamed against us. We would use them until we had our fill. Then I sold them off to the highest bidder. Some continued being sex slaves, others became mediums for sadistic fantasies, oink,” he said this line with a smile on his face as he recounted all of the deeds he had done to the girls.

Mothers that remained sobbed and some broke down in the street while others started taking their pain out on their husbands. Blood started to spatter as the number of fights spread like an airborne illness. Men started shouting and punching against the barrier you had put up, some fought out of love for their stolen family members and other fought out of spite for the harmed ego.

You let the wood smack down directly onto his dick and his scream echoed throughout the night skies before being silenced by his thank yous. “What else are you guilty of little piggy?”

”I told the higher members that I would get them into heaven. That all they had to do was listen to me and it would all turn out okay, but we are all damned now. I wanted everyone in this town to be as damned as me and now they are. They think there is a higher god but I am the god here. My words are law, my will is reality, those fucking sheep will give up their own fucking innards if I asked them, oink,” his words started carrying a laugh the more he went on. He actually believed that in this world he held power. You let out a laugh at the thought and he thought you were laughing with him.

”Tell me the names of the men who did this with you.” He started spewing out a list of names and with each one read a new fight began. The crowd dogpiled on whichever one they first laid eyes on and started bludgeoning them to death.

”What a good pig. I have a gift for you for being so good,” you said as the girls and women who survived his kidnapping came out from the building behind you each holding their preferred weapon. The crowd went still at the site of their neighbors, wives, and daughters. The abuse and torment they had undergone was evident as in the faces, clothes, and bodies. But it was their eyes where it showed the most. There was no light in them, no, currently that light was completely consumed by the darkness of revenge. They gathered around him in a circle, quietly waiting for their part.

”Mistress you are too kind to a soiled pig like me,” he said clearly thinking the present would be something splendid he would receive in the privacy of his own quarters.

You drew closer to him and brushed your hands along the sides of his as you removed his blindfold from behind, allowing him a full view of his victims. His eyes grew wide as he took in his surroundings.

”Wh-w-what-t’s happening? Where am I,” he asked in a panicked frenzy as he saw the girls and the bloodied crowd before him.

You walked around to the front of him, “Do you not recognize your own subjects?”

”You witch this can’t be real, we-we were just in my quarters. I would have heard them, I-I would have felt us move!” He started pulling against the restraints but they remained the same. “Don’t believe anything! This is all a lie! A facade put on by her! She is a witch! You need to kill her! Whoever kills her gets to join me at the top!”

You smiled down at the pathetic man, “Goodbye, little piggy,” you said as you started walking.

You looked to the girls, “You have 20 minutes before the others can approach him.”

They nodded at you and started circling the man as you walked into the building they came out of. You could hear the way they made him sing as they tore into him. You had fed enough of your energy into him that he would stay alive and conscious until the barrier fell no matter how much damage he took. He would feel every ounce of revenge they had for him. Inside, there was still one girl. The girl in your contract. You took her hand and told her you were taking her home. She had heard and saw what you had done. She gave you no hesitation as she walked behind you. Upon getting to the house, the mother rushed to her daughter with open arms. They both sobbed as they hugged each other and fell to the ground.

You let them have a minute before clearing your throat. The mother looked up to you and then back down to her daughter. She held her face and then wiped away her tears, telling her something you didn’t bother to catch. The girl looked up at you while still on her knees and started begging and crying. It all fell on deaf ears as you took the mother into their house where her husband was currently tied up. You handed her the dagger your Mother had given you all those years ago and she grabbed it tight in her hands.

”Thank you,” she said while smiling at you through watery eyes. She then turned around and stabbed her husband over and over. Each plunge accompanied by a scream of liberation. She looked down at his mangled torso before taking a deep breath and looking at the moon “Thank you,” she said again before plunging the dagger into her own abdomen. You grabbed the dagger and left, walking past the daughter who was still on her knees outside.

When you finally made it back to your home the sun was rising, you were exhausted. You grabbed an already open bottle of sake and took it to your bed deciding to forego a glass. Most crimes didn’t bother you but you always hated ones they dealt with girls being sold. It made you want to take the whole town off of the map for letting it go on for so long. The way that mother ran to her daughter irked you too. You couldn’t remember your parents or really anything before being sold. You had always assumed they realized you were blind and got rid of you as quickly as they could. You knew there would never have been anyone waiting for you with open arms after going through the traumatic events you did. It would have always been you having to comfort yourself, telling yourself it was okay. And that was okay…

You awoke sometime around noon to a fight happening in the hallway of where you were staying. Some man didn’t have something he owed the other man blah blah blah. Didn’t they know where you were? This was the city of night. Arguing that loud while it was still light out was a death sentence. You opened your door to look at them. It was two well dressed men—obviously not from around here. Your guess is that one of them was hiding from some debts here and the other came to collect.

”Keep your fucking voice down before I rip out your vocal cords and shove them up your ass”. Heh then he could really talk out of his ass.

”Mind your own business whore. Where’s your owner to keep you in—,” his sentence was cut short by your hand around his throat.

”Go on, finish your sentence,” you said without letting up on his throat. All that came out were gurgles as his face started to darken. You were fully ready to kill him when your friend Ieriri opened her door and sighed.

”Can’t we have a morning without a body in the hall?” She leaned against the doorframe clearly feeling the full effects of a hangover, her lips pouting into a plea.

”I thought you would enjoy a new body to experiment on Ieiri,” you said returning your own pout as you slightly loosened your grip on the man’s throat. “Plus he was so mean to me”.

”Ple-ease am- sorry,” the man choked out as he held onto your hand.

Ieiri put her hands together as she begged you to just let it be. You sighed and eyed the man that he was obviously here for.

“Both of you, out—now”.

The other man went to rebuttal but immediately shut his mouth when he felt your aura pierce through him. You released the man you were holding and he grabbed the other man by his hair before dragging him down the hallway and out of the building. You groan as you haggardly waltz into Ieiri’s room, still exhausted from your interrupted sleep.

”Well come in,” she jokingly says since you’re already on laying on her bed. She closes her door and comes to lay with you, “rough night?”

You sigh and nod your head. “I had a job a few villages over that required a lot of setup and was extremely fucked up. Like I will think I am fucked up, but when I see towns like that, I almost feel like a fucking saint,” you laugh.

”Fuck I know, right? I almost like going to towns like that though because I enjoy feeling like a saint and holding myself over people”, she says while literally holding herself over you which makes you laugh.

”Oh hardy har. Please madame teach me the ways of civility, turn me into a real upstanding lady!”

You both can’t help but laugh as she crawls into bed next to you. You had found Ieiri when you first came to this town 12 years ago. You were both children stealing for food, but she had gotten caught and almost killed on the spot for it. You had saved her and she had been glued to your side ever since. At first you kept telling her to go away, after all, you had never had a friend before. You didn’t know what to do with it, what she wanted. So you dealt with it the only way that made sense to you. You made it a partnership. She had knowledge of the town and you had power. You guys became town menaces in a town already full of them. It was the perfect paradise for you. Now you both knew it was more than a partnership, it was true companionship. You considered her to be like a sister and would turn the world over if anyone ever hurt her, but you would be surprised if they could. You had been teaching her how to use cursed energy ever since you felt a trace of it within her. She could easily hold her own against an average human. Your giggles died down as you both found rest in each other’s arms.

You walked the streets of your home. Some people gave you friendly greetings, some even approached you for a hug, while others hurried past you and didn’t dare to make eye contact. In a town full of criminals and assassins, they knew you were at the top of the food chain. Those who had challenged you in the past were either never heard from again or had come back so altered it was like there was no one home behind their eyes. Just walking zombies. Those were the ones you let Shoko play with. After running whatever experiments she wanted on them, they came out a ghost of their former selves.

You made your way to your favorite bar and as you came in the barkeep brought out an imported bottle of tequila that he knew you loved. Your eyes lit up as you beelined towards him. “Kentooo you shouldn’t have,” you said as you reached for it.

He pulled it back to your shock, “Oh I shouldn’t have? My mistake I will sell it to someone else then”, he said with an apologetic bow reeking of sarcasm. You put out your lips in a pout but he didn’t budge so you sighed.

”Thank you so much my knight in booze plated armor for remembering my favorite drink and fighting the terrifying trade company to retrieve it. I give you my most sincere thanks for bringing it back to me in one piece. Your efforts shall not go unacknowledged, what shall thy knight’s request entail,” you said with laughable grandeur.

He tried his best to keep up his end of the rouse but once one laugh fell through they all did. “You’re a little shit (Y/N)”, he said while opening the bottle and pouring you both a shot.

“And you’re an idiot for not taking up the invitation for me to grant you one request,” you said while clinking his glass and downing a shot with him.

”We will just say you owe me one then,” you were about to rebuttal but he remembered something,”By the way, you have a client in the back room waiting for you. He said he was a messenger for Lord… uhm well you know who.”

It wasn’t often you saw Kento get nervous but whoever’s name he was referencing definitely did it. You motioned your eyebrows to ask who but he acted as if a customer called him and walked off.

”Hey, where are you, KENTOOOO,” you shouted behind him to no avail. You sighed and grabbed the bottle as you walked towards the back to meet a messenger of Lord Spooky apparently.

In the back you saw a man in a very expensive garb and figured that was who you were looking for. You sat down at the table he was waiting for you at and took a drink.

”What do you want,” you said with little regard. Lords usually wanted some other Lord killed or a crime hidden away. They were also usually stingy and tried to slip payments thinking you couldn’t touch them. Man you hated dealing with them.

”I am a messenger of King Sukuna, he has requested your presence,” he said showing the same lack of regard to you. To him, you looked like a wench with a drinking issue. Not an asset.

You just looked at him, “Get out of here you fucking liar. The King has no interest in people here. We’re all just swine to him.”

His eyebrow twitched in annoyance, “While I don’t rebuke you being swine”, ohohohhh this motherfucker wanted to walk out with his head facing his ass, “he did indeed request your presence in the throne room, by 10 tomorrow.”

You blinked a few times, “So let me get this straight, the King wants me there by 10 tomorrow? It is currently 2 in the morning, and it takes 7 hours to get to his shrine. So within an hour I am supposed to drop everything and go?”

”Well you see, I arrived here 6 hours ago but this forsaken town doesn’t wake up until the sun is down, so technically you were going to have 2 hours to get ready, we would have left four hours ago, and then had plenty of time to fix your appearance for the king. But now, we will be leaving immediately and hoping there is time to wash the stench of booze from you and find out if there is a presentable version of you”.

Gobsmacked. Your jaw was left open at his onslaught of words and you were about to shove your fingers through his neck and beat the rest of his body with his skull when he held up the King’s stamp. Holy shit. You grabbed it and looked at it closer. It was real. It was really fucking real. The King wanted to see you. The King that had so many fucking horror stories written about him that maybe it actually should be Lord Spooky instead of King Sukuna.

”Uhm, well give me 20 minutes and I will meet you back here,” you said while getting up still feeling a little surreal.

What did the King want? Was this going to go bad and turn into a fight? There were very few people you didn’t want to seriously throw down with and he was one of them. From what you have heard, he is a powerful curse user like you surrounded by other less powerful curse users. Fuuuck if you were going to fight you wanted to do it in a neutral area not his fucking shrine. That’s not even fair. Although, it also made your blood tingle at the prospect of fighting someone at your level. Someone who also used cursed energy and was absolutely fucked in the head. Maybe a fight wouldn’t be bad.

”You have 10 and if you run the King will come here himself to retrieve you and take out this town in the process,” he said while getting up and walking towards the door where his carriage was ready, “Don’t. Be. Late.”

Kento who had heard the last bit of the conversation looked at you in shock before inching closer. “What was that about? Why would the King come here? Why does he want you? What the fuck did you do?” He was directly in front of you while rambling off questions. You just hugged him. “Don’t touch my tequila while I am away.”

You hurriedly ran to Ieiri’s and told her the gist of the conversation and your goodbyes. She was reluctant but knew you could handle yourself, even if it was against the King. She knew you would come back home, so you hugged and then left.

You made it back to the carriage with a just a small knapsack. You didn’t keep much with you. You had your dagger, some snacks, money, and some changes of clothes. Not that you expected to be able to wear the clothes as your usual attire wasn’t really fit for where you were going. You assumed they would continue to “make you presentable” while you were there.

”On time. I suppose you do have some class,” the messenger said as he opened the door for you and motioned for you to enter.

You gave a sarcastic bow while holding his eye contact, “Opening the door for me, I suppose you do know your place, peasant,” you said with a grin as you got in and he followed with a face so red it was almost purple.

The ride was very long, and very bumpy. “Soo, what’s your name,” you asked.

He just scoffed at your question and refused to look like you.

”So you’re just going to act like a child then?”

Nothing. More silent treatment.

Act like a child? Two could play at that game. “Hey, hey, hey, HEEEEEEYYY-“

”WHAT”, he cut you off seething.

”I asked you a question.”

”I don’t answer to you.”

”Do I have to repeatedly scream my questions to get you to answer them?”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Geto Suguru”.

”Seeee that wasn’t that hard,” you said much to his annoyance, “so what does the King want with me?”

”He will tell you when we get there. And before you scream at me that is all I am allowed to say so please let me ride in peace.”

You sighed. You guess you can ride in silence with him but there will be no peace for you. You wanted to be a little shit and make sure there was no peace for him either but given his obvious disdain towards someone of your class you were sure it wasn’t peaceful for him either. Whatever you thought as you leaned back into your chair and looked at the ceiling of the carriage.

At some point you had dozed off because Geto kicked you in the leg to get you to wake up. Or well tried. As soon as you sensed his foot near your leg you stood and raised your leg to the side of his throat. For the first time you saw his expression change from annoyance to shock. He was sure you were dead asleep from how you were snoring and drooling, but here you were with a kick that left air to blow in his face from the sudden stop next to his neck. He didn’t even see it coming. Maybe you could be an asset after all.

”Y’know a simple hey would suffice next time ass wipe,” you said while lowering your foot and exiting the open carriage door. The attendants kept their heads bowed but you could tell they were just as shocked from the scene and some had to stifle laughter from your insult to him.

You stretched your arms up over your head as you got out and let rip a hearty yawn. As you finished you started taking in the shrine and palace. It was so clean, obviously Sukuna had some very good help with how spotless this place was. You looked at the attending and noticed that even they were well kept. With all the rumors about him you almost expected them to be in haggard loin clothes covered in dirt. Instead they all wore black and red kimonos. They were simple but still nicer than what you wore when in a hoity toity setting. You wore a simple loose shirt that hung off your shoulder when knocked out of the center, loose pants with deep pockets, and an expensive pair of boots with steel on top of the toe. It wasn’t fancy but with how much blood got on your clothes there wasn’t a point in buying nicer ones.

“Weapons are not permitted. Hand over all that you have,” Geto said as he walked up beside you.

You figured it would be like that so you had used your magic earlier to slip the dagger your Mother gave you into a pocket realm and handed the rest over to Geto.

He looked down at the daggers you gave him, “Anymore?”

”Nope,” you said before trying to continue onwards to which Geto reached his arm out and barred your entry. “Oh what now?”

”I don’t believe you.”

You sighed and spread your arms and legs, “Go on then search me”.

He felt up your legs to your thighs to your back pockets. His body towering over you as you stared into his chest. His hands slid from your ass to your waist and then started moving up until they cupped under your breasts.

”Oi they’re not bombs they’re my tits, although I can understand the confusion since that sour look you wear makes it seem as if you’ve never been laid,” you said while looking up at him.

”I know what they are, although given their size I almost thought they were little bombs,” he said with a smile while moving his hands to your back and then finally up your shoulders and down your arms.

You just laughed at his comment. Your boobs were not the biggest but not the smallest either. You never had any complaints from past lovers so you felt indifferent about it.

”Well now that you know that they aren’t a bomb but just the bomb, are we done?”

He shook his head at your comment but you swore there was a ghost of a smile on his lips. Maybe all it took for him to start to like you was almost kicking his head off. He jerked his head to the side in gesture for you to follow so you did. Once on the grounds, you got to see how diligent his servants truly worked. They worked very obssesively all with their heads bowed, refusing to make eye contact with anything aside from what they were doing.

”Why are everyone’s heads bowed,” you asked.

”It is a rule. Keep your head down so you don’t make eye contact with the King on accident. If they do they are killed right where they stand.”

“Why can’t I look at him? Is he… y’know not quite-“

“I’m going to stop you right there. You may be a requested guest but you will be killed all the same for disrespecting the King. He is fine, it is a sign of disrespect to look him in the eye so don’t,” he said while guiding you into the servant’s wing of the palace.

You couldn’t help but giggle, “So you think he is fine, huh? That why you don’t like boobs?”

”Gods you’re insufferable”, he led you into a room with a bath waiting and a few female servants. “Bathe and get dressed—quickly. I expect you outside in 20 minutes”, he said before closing the door and leaving you alone with the other women.

They came to help you undress but you gave them a gentle wave of no while smiling and thanking them for the offer while you undressed yourself. You noticed them staring at your body. You were probably the most muscular woman they had seen and you had a few scars on your back and abdomen from before you were gifted by the Mother. You just smiled at their stares and got into the bath helping them quickly scrub you clean. The products they were using smelled like lavender and bergamot. Scents you didn’t realize you were quite fond of until basking in them. You got through the bath quickly and moved onto dressing. They put a black and red robe on you that was made of a nicer material than theirs and had designs along the inner trim and bottom of the sleeves. They went to put socks and sandals on you but you protested asking to just wear your boots. They looked mortified and panicked. You wondered if they would get killed if you showed up differently than planned so you just sighed and put on the socks and sandals. They tied your hair up into an intricate bun with black pins donning red tassles holding it into place. They moved onto your face applying a dark stroke of black to line your eyes and dark red lipstick that reminded you of how you look when you bite people.

You were sure they normally do more given all the beauty products laying in front of you but time was up. You bowed and thanked them to their dismay, a smile forming on their lips, as you went to the door. When you open it you meet Geto standing there waiting. “Alright time to go”, he said but as he turned towards you he stopped. Once again, surprise bloomed across his features.

“Oh piss off. A sprinkle of makeup didn’t transform me, let’s go”, you said while walking off.

“Wrong way”, he shouted which made you turn around and start towards the opposite end of the corridor that he had already started walking towards. He had found your features to be attractive before, so no you didn’t transform, but gods did you look good like that. If only he could wash and redress your attitude.

Before opening the door Geto reminded you to not look at the King, not to cuss, to be respectful, not to speak unless spoken to, and basically go against all of your natural instincts. To which you sarcastically thanked him and took a deep breath. You had played many roles over the years and this was no different. You calmed your energy down until you could feel it was perfectly poised, put on a friendly yet neutral face, put your hands together in your kimono sleeves, and kept you head down as Geto led you into the throne room.

You could feel the King’s presence as well as a less stronger presence beside his throne. There were a few other people in the room but you and Geto were the only other ones with cursed energy. The odds of winning a fight against all of them would be absolutely rough, unless you put them in your domain. There it would be them against an army of your creations, but you wanted to keep your domain under wraps for as long as you could.

You could feel all of their eyes on you, sizing you up as well. Gods it was so fucking stupid that you couldn’t look at them as well. The hypocrisy made you want to look directly in his eyes and flip him the bird. Shit you almost let out a little giggle at that. Keep your thoughts cool dammit.

“Welcome (Y/N), I have heard a lot about you”, a voice with a deep timbre and light rumble said. You didn’t have to look to know it was the King.

“I wasn’t aware you had heard of me my King, but I am honored at your invitiation”, you said with a practiced voice that had Geto side eyeing you wondering where the fuck the actual you went.

You could hear him getting up in his seat, but didn’t give into the desire to look.

“Do you know why I called you here, (Y/N)”, he said as he started descending down the steps leading to his throne.

“No, my King. I-“, you feel a wave of cursed energy shoot towards you and step out of the way of it before feeling the King’s energy approaching you rapidly. You brace yourself and he appears in front of you, you manage to keep up with his speed and dodge his incoming physical attacks while using your cursed energy to fend off his own. His attacks have no malice behind them and he is keeping you two in a small radius clear of destroying anything, so you assume this is likely a test. You keep your head down and your arms in your sleeves. You feel as if you’re doing well at the test until two more arms appear from nowhere.

What the fuck is this asshole part spider? How many fucking arms does he have?

Just when everyone in the room thinks that he has you in his grasp, you disappear. They’re left in confusion as they look around for you.

”Do you know why I am here my King,” you ask from in front of his throne with a slight hint of sarcasm on ‘my King’, your places now switched from how they began.

He smiled before appearing right in front of you again, “Serve me”, he whispered in your ear.

”Why?”

He let out a maniacal laugh, “Well one, you have no choice in the matter. You will serve me or die by me. I will be nice and give you a two though”, he said while circling you like a predator, “we are the same. Well maybe not in power, but I have heard of your work. Seen what remains after you're sent to do a job. You don’t just do what the client tells you, no, you sow seeds for cursed energy to grow from, don’t you? I can feel the hunger inside you, the pit that demands chaos paid in blood. Feed it with me”. He is behind you, his face beside your ear again.

“What are the terms of my treatment? Am I stuck here or do I get to go outside the palace? Also, what is your end goal? Why rule, why dominate? What world are you hoping to get out of it?”, you ask turning around to face him, this time staring right into his eyes.

He grabs your throat when you make eye contact, but quickly lets go in slight shock. “Were you draining my power just then?”, he asks with a wild smile on his face.

”Yes my King. I wouldn’t advise touching me against my will. It only takes a few seconds for me to send it to that pit that you mentioned,” you boldly take a step towards him, still maintaining eye contact, “I will work with you but there will be conditions. You will find that I am much nicer to work with when I am happy and that I am very easily made happy”. You say with the smile you learned from your Mother while unleashing the veil you always kept over your power and could feel the others’ spike in response to yours. The humans in the room launched their heads back before looking at the King, eyes matching the color of yours. All of the sorcerers, could feel your power tapping around in the heads, not in them, but letting them know they could end up out of control if they slip up.

Sukuna’s POV

This annoying little bitch coming into my throne room and challenging me. I could stick my fingers through her fucking brain until she has no choice but to be an obedient slave and part of me loves that idea, but the other part loves where this is going. She can disappear from even me and reappear without being sensed, tap into others minds, and drain other users of their power. She may not be as strong as me, but fucking hell are her abilities useful. And something about her presence makes my power hum with a feeling I can't place. Lust? Hate? Familiarity? Fuck I don’t know but I want her near.

I sit back in my throne, eyeing her up and down. With me sitting we are closer to eye level than before. Her eyes look like pools of blood, begging to drown the world in them. “What are your requests then, brat?” I can see the shock on the other sorcerers' faces, but also understanding on Geto’s. He must also realize she is an asset.

“I require alcohol, casual wear fit for fighting, an area where I can train but it doesn’t need to be private, and while I understand I may not be able to leave often, the ability to visit my home for 24 hours at a time not including travel time,” she said while still fucking staring me down. Cheeky bitch. But none of those are terrible, I suppose.

”Oh, and I would like to be able to have sex”, she added while nodding.

”With who?”

”You—“, Geto and Uraume both choked on air at her request as my eyebrows raised. Who does this fucking wench think she is demanding stipulations and then to fuck me I—“ Kidding, sorry. I didn’t really have anyone in particular in mind I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t off the table since this is kinda a shrine”, she said as if she hadn’t just informally joked about having fucking me—her fucking King.

I just sit and stare at her for a minute wondering what the hell goes through her mind that compels her to speak to me so casually. What happened to the demeanor she had in the beginning? Speaking like a bratty fucking whore now that she is close to me. Normally, I would grab her by her fucking throat and slam her around for such insolence, but I can still feel the hole she drained from my power. That ability is pesky as hell. Maybe I can get her to lower it and then smash in her skull. Hmm that would be nice.

“I will agree to your terms, but you will only drink after the sun sets, wear the clothing I choose outside of daily routine, and you may leave three times a year upon my approval and failure to follow those terms will results in losing one of those visitations. You will also speak to me with respect for here on out. I will not hear more slander about fucking a ran through whore like you or I will snap your neck, power drain or not. Are we clear?”

She gives me a shit eating grin before slightly bowing her head, “Crystal clear my King. I look forward to working for you.”

(Y/N) POV

Holy shit why did I say him? What demon inside me fucking compelled me to risk my life over that? Although…everyone’s reaction was funny.

Except the end. Ran through whore? I am sorry, but who is it that has MULTIPLE concubines? Hypocrite.

“Crystal clear my King. I look forward to working with you.”

With that he waves his hand in dismissal and I walk away with my head still bowed and Geto following behind me. Once out of the room he smacks me on the back of the head.

”Fuck you actually do drain people’s energy don’t you?”

”Yea did you think our King was lying? You accuse him of being a liar? Don’t you know that is direct disrespect to him and punishable by death”, you say with a dead serious look as you stare at him.

He stares back absolutely baffled. “If anyone needs advice on how to not get killed by the King it's you. You flat out asked to fuck him like a goddamn maniac”, he says while guiding you to where you assume your quarters will be.

“Yea imagine if we got into a real fight. I wonder how it would go? I think it’d be pointless. We are stronger together. I am more of an asset than any of you know, killing me would suuuuck”, you say with an overly playful tone for the topic.

“How can you be so sure that you’re such an asset that he wouldn’t kill you?”

“Can any of you do what I just did?”

”Teleporting yes and—“

”I didn’t teleport. I went to a different realm that is in this one but not. Can any of you walk between realms?”

”I don’t even know what that means or what to do with that information. You make my brain hurt, for many reasons”, he stops and opens the door in front of you, “these are your quarters. I am sure your servants will be by to take your measurements and specifications for clothes and alcohol preferences soon. Do not leave this room without your attending servants until you have been told you may wander alone. Okay?”

You smile as you walk in and do a few spins in your room, “Yes, I understand. Wait for my servants and don’t leave without them”, you say without looking at Geto as you take in your room. You hear your door close, leaving you to your own devices

Notes: chapter one ayoo hopefully you guys like it. Some notes about the reader and Sukuna

- The reader’s cursed powers follow many techniques just like the Mother’s. The realm in between she mentioned is the Mother’s domain. Her domain is so big it is literally separate realm that exists on top of the other one without detection. The Mother and reader are the only ones that can travel to it. This realm is full of stored cursed energy and curses crafted by the Mother and reader. The Mother and her spawn stay in a palace that the reader cannot reach in that realm as they are taking a hands off approach for a while, so the reader can only use creations made themselves. Similar to Geto’s power but on a larger scale. This will actually make the two of them a good combo in the future.

- Sukuna had someone watch the events described in the beginning. He is interested in the reader because he has heard many accounts of their power and the technique is always different. He has also heard accounts of them lifting grown men twice their size as well as other items of great weight. Her speed has also been made a point of interest. Her bloodlust has also reached his ears and the depictions of gore she has left behind. Her killing didn’t discriminate on age or gender, but he had noticed her scenes were more intense when involving rape.

- The more cursed energy a sorcerer has the more of a pull her blood will have on them because the purer their energy is. It can feel the Mother within it and yearns to feed on it. This is why the King will let her get away with more and will act more erratic around her because he doesn’t know why he feels the way it does but he is oddly possessive/protective of her now. He would still beat her for the insolence if it wouldn’t drain him, but he has no intention of killing her.

- Ieiri knows more about the reader’s powers than anyone else and experiments on people to come up with new ideas for curses. She finds out what hurts the most but keeps the patient alive, different things that affect their vitals, tests on humans and sorcerers to ensure effectiveness, different ways to get inside people’s minds, and an array of ways to attack people in general. This has allowed the reader to create curses completely different than the Mother’s.

- If it came down to a fight, the reader would win in cursed energy, but Sukuna would win in brute strength. It would come down to how both played their cards throughout the match. The reader’s domain is able to open within Sukuna’s and is the inside of the Mother’s palace. So while he may have Malevolent Shrine, she has Malevolent Mother but the reader would rather die than run to her mom, so y’know.

Taglist: @missroro

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coryosbaby · 1 year

Text

Sweet Serial Killer *ੈ✩‧ Young! Gf! Nick Goode x reader (1)

“𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓴𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓻

𝓓𝓸 𝓲𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓱,

𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓶𝓾𝓬𝓱! “

Summary: Murders are happening around Camp Nightwing, and you’ll do anything for your best friend Nick.

Warning: mentions of murder & violence, dubious consent, yandere! Nick, possessiveness, obsessive behavior, mentions of pedophilia (NOT by nick), pictures without consent, toxic relationship asf, god complex, male masturbation, oral (m & f recieving), p n v, breeding kink, dumbification, size kink, daddy kink, missionary, riding, the reader is very dependable on Nick, loss of virginity, creampie, marking, squirting, dom! Nick, sub! Reader

Nick isn’t an inherently violent person.

But when he meets you in the summer of ‘76, all of that is thrown out the window.

You’re a camper. And no, you aren’t a child; you’re eighteen years old. Nick is twenty, beginning as his first year as a counselor. At Camp Nightwing, it’s taboo for a counselor and camper to become romantically involved. But Jesus, Nick just can’t help but be so in love when he looks at you. Your cabin is right next to his, and he sees your sweet ass everyday, watches you strut around with him on his off days and have fun. You’ve both grown incredibly close. And if anyone messes with you, they have to deal with him.

And waves of intense rage aren’t new to him. But right now, he has still never been so incredibly angry.

He watches as a camper, some guy named Alex and around your age, torments you; pulls your hair, calls you names, makes fun of your makeup. And it makes his blood boil. You’re so precious, so much of an angel. No one needs to treat you this way. He approaches, quickly breaking it up. On the outside, his demeanor is calm, is safe.

To you, Nick will always be safe.

Alex scurries away quickly when Nick starts murmuring threats through clenched teeth. Tears are running down your face, and Nick brings his arm around your shoulder and guides you to his empty cabin. You bury his face in his neck when you’re both finally alone on his bed. He pulls you away and begins to stroke your tearful face soothingly.

“Shh,” he murmurs. “I know. It’s okay, honey. That fuckin’ asshole..” he looks at you with slight concern for a moment. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

You sniffle, and shake your head. “He p-pulled my hair, a little bit. But I’m fine.”

If Nick had any previous guilt about his plans for tonight, they’re all gone now.

“Okay..” he smiles, a small laugh leaving his lips as he runs his hands over the outer corners of your eyes.

“You ruined your makeup.”

You frown, worried. “Do I look bad?”

“What? No, not at all.” How could you ever think you look bad? “You look.. you look really pretty, y/n.”

“Oh.” your face flushes, and you smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He replies. And then,after that, you lay down on his bed and he reads you your favorite book while you curl up on his left side. It’s one of the things he does to help you feel better, to make you feel even more protected and safe with him.

And then later that night, the first murder at Camp Nightwing takes place.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

The next day the talk is all around camp. Alex, the boy that had harassed you the day before, is dead.

You’re in shock. No one has ever died at the camp before; it’s full of teenagers and kids doing arts and crafts, after all. In a situation like this, they should close down the camp. But the death itself was confirmed to be an accident; he had somehow slipped off of a cliff beside the lake that campers weren’t allowed to approach, and had hit his head on the rocky floor below. A counselor had found him that day, and there were rumors that it was incredibly brutal; his head was completely smashed to pieces.

Some people, however, believe it wasn’t an accident. There were rumors that a few campers saw someone in a black robe and a weird mask that resembled that of a ghost. But those were just rumors, for now.

You shove the thought that Alex deserved what he got down into your gut, and decide to feel bad for him.

“I just don’t get it,” you explain to Nick the next day, in the empty art room. “Why would you even go over there? It’s like, the most dangerous spot.”

Nick shrugs as you refer to Alex, as he knots a new bracelet for the third time that day.

“Dunno,” he replies. “Like I said, he was an idiot.”

His tone and the use of the word ‘was’ makes bile rise in your throat, but you change the topic to the task at hand.

If anyone knows you, you’re just a little… dumb. So, Nick helps you with your crafts in your art activities everyday, always teaches you new things because you’re interested and don’t know how. It’s not just in this field, where you depend on him; he helps you with practically everything, even feeds you from time to time. He knows how to take care of you, how to keep you satisfied and happy.

He watches as you struggle to tie a knot in the bracelet that you’re creating, watches as you slam it down onto the table and make a sound of frustration. He chuckles, amused.

“Having fun?”

“Fuck off, Nick.” You snap . You immediately begin to apologize, not meaning to have sounded so rude.

“Im so sorry!”

“Don’t apologize, y/n. It’s okay, I promise.”

He hates when you feel as if you’ve said something wrong around him. You could never anger him.

“It’s just…” you rub your eyes, careful not to destroy your glittery makeup. “I can’t.. I can’t make the bracelet. It’s not working.”

“That’s okay,” Nick assures. “I can teach you. It’s okay, here-“

His fingers move to grab the strings from you, maneuvering the plastic stand it’s attached to so he can gain better access. He looks down at the instructions.

“Yeah, this knot is complicated,” it’s not, but you don’t need to know that. “All you’re doing wrong is not looping it around. If you just..”

He smiles as he grabs your cherry red nails into his larger set of hands. He brings them down and shows you the proper way to tie the bracelet, and you squeal in victory when you’re finally done. It’s a little jagged along a section, but it isn’t too bad.

“See! I knew you could do it. You’re such a quick learner.” Nick praises. You flush.

“Thank you.”

He watches as you tie the ends. And then, you’re nervously looking towards him.

“I want you to have it.. i-if that’s okay!”

Nick beams, happily snatching the bracelet from your hands and slipping it onto his wrist.

“Thank you, angel. I love it.”

He picks up one of the bracelets he made and insists that you wear it too. He ties the ends for you, and slips it around your wrist. You smile. And then, with ease, he brings his lips down to your wrist and places a kiss to it. The nervous lip bite you give him makes his cock harden in his pants, but he chooses to ignore it for now. You smell so sweet, the perfume on your wrists making his eyes practically roll back. It’s so you, and he can’t get enough of it.

“Do you want to go back to my cabin?”

The words make you stutter, knowing that the cabin is empty and that everyone is away at another camping activity at the lake. But alas, you utter a quick ‘yes’. When you get inside he guides you to sit down at the head of his bed so he can read to you again. But once he gets through a couple paragraphs of The Great Gatsby, you’re already leaning onto his shoulder sleepily.

“Tired?” He asks.

“Mhm.”

“C’mere.”

He grabs one of your arms and slings it over his chest. You sigh happily, shoving your face into his shirt as he moves down to lay flat on the bed.

“Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up when it’s time for dinner.”

“Okay, Nicky. Thank you.”

Oh, how precious.

Your soft snores fill the room as you sleep. Time ticks by, but Nick can’t seem to keep still as much as he wants to. So, gently, he removes himself from underneath you and pulls his blanket over your shoulders as you turn over in your sleep. He watches as your tits seem to practically spill out of your tank top. His breath catches in his throat. It’s not that noticeable because it’s on your lower side, but your nipple has seemed to slip out of the fabric.

The thing he does next is probably incredibly wrong. But who can blame him, with you looking like that?

His hands go down to palm the bulge in his pants. He breathes heavily, lip getting caught in his teeth as he watches your slow moving breath and beautiful face. He brings his hands into his pants and begins to stroke himself with vigor.

He knows it’s incredibly risky. You’re his best friend, and if he gets caught doing this you might not be anymore. But precum spills over his fist and he thrusts into his own palm mercilessly. He starts to imagine scenarios with you in them: taking your tits into his mouth, sucking on those pert little nipples that he loves to see peeking through your shirt. Fucking that tight little pussy he knows you have, while you’re on all fours and your ass is bouncing back against his abs. And then, lastly, watching your little cunt get stretched beyond its boundaries as he impales you, your virgin blood coating his cock and leaving your creamy spend on him. This makes him keen, and then he’s stuffing his fist into his mouth as he cums all over the inside of his briefs. You begin to stir, not quite waking up, but it makes Nick’s mouth water even more at the thought of you catching him. You don’t wake up, however. You’re always such a deep sleeper.

Nick sighs, moving into the bathroom to wash off his hands and then change into a new pair of underwear.

And then, when he’s next to his dress, he catches sight of his camera.

It’s a Polaroid camera, a dark brown that he keeps with him whenever he wants to take picture of the camp’s scenery.

But maybe it can be used for other sights.

He remembers to turn the flash off, and then he snaps a picture of your sleeping form. And then, another. And another. And another. All at different angles, some far away, some so close that it’s a surprise that you don’t hear the click of the device and wake up. When he’s done he gathers up all of the pictures that have been printed and shoves them into his drawer full of shirts, next to another set of pictures. Ones that consist of a boy in water, with his head missing.

He checks on the clock on the wall. It’s dinner time, now.

He goes over and lightly shakes you. It takes a few minutes of this before your eyes finally crack open.

“C’mon, sweets, you gotta wake up,” he murmurs. “It’s time for dinner.”

You blink, wiping the sleep away from your eyes and smearing your makeup in the process again. But when you get up and look in the mirror, you choose not to acknowledge it.

You don’t even notice the anxious look Nick gives you when you ask for some of his clothes and reach into his t-shirt drawer. He’s so thankful that he hid the photos in the very back, because you don’t find them.

He makes a mental note to move them to a place where no one would think to look.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

The next day Tommy Slater teaches you archery.

You’ve see the boy around, not really ever talking, but he’s sweet, with nice hair and a pretty smile. He holds your arms in the right position as he helps you pull back the strings of the bow. When you pull it back, it’s the first time ever that you hit the target. You pull him into a hug, and his hands go down to your waist as he asks if he can buy you a cherry coke from the vending machines.

Nick watches the whole thing with displeasure when you say yes.

No one really notices, but Nick just always seems to be around you, even though there’s a whole other side of camp to be taught. It’s a surprise, really, that the boy can keep his job. If it wasn’t for the extra class he teaches everyday and his father being the sheriff, he’d probably be fired.

Nick really hasn’t had that much of a problem with Tommy before. He’s a nice guy, and they get along well whenever they work together. Hell, Tommy was even his bunkmate for a while before he decided to switch and room with his brother, Will.

But he’s talking to you. And he’s being a little too nice, too touchy to see you as a regular camper or friend.

And Nick can’t have that, can he?

So a week later, after you had started to grow close with the boy, Tommy Slater is found with a noose around his neck. A suicide, of course. It’s incredibly unfortunate for you; you cry about it, not leaving your cabin all day over the death of your new friend when you find out the news.

Of course, Nick is there to comfort you. He doesn’t leave your side, and stays with you for the entirety of the day while you sleep on top of his shirtless, warm body.

He’s such a good friend.

You sigh as you roll yourself out of your bed. You’re exhausted, mentally. Nick had begged you to come to dinner with him, but to no avail after many minutes of struggling. You figure right about now that the best thing to do is your makeup. Something that sounds incredibly stupid, but it helps you relieve a lot of stress. You bring yourself back over to your bed with your makeup bag and begin to apply a full face.

You jump, almost smearing your eyeliner, when Nick opens the door. Although you shouldn’t get excited at a time like this, you smile when you see an ice cream cone in one of his hands.

“Finally getting up?” He teases. You nod.

“I guess so. No use getting hung up, right? We..” you’re trying to seem positive, but the image of Tommy’s body hanging from the ceiling brings bile to your throat. You swallow it down as you apply a layer of blush and grab the ice cream cone from Nick. “Me and Tommy weren’t even that close.”

Nick shrugs, sitting down beside you and resting his head on your shoulder to watch you apply your mascara.

“He’s in a better place now, y/n.” The boy assures.

You nod in agreement, but you’re still a bit upset. You shake the thoughts out of your head and lick at the ice cream cone. Nick watches some it drip down your chin, and he imagines what it would be like to stuff your mouth full.

“So,” He starts. His eyes never leave your mouth. “Are you going on the camping trip tonight?”

Every Saturday, campers go deeper into the woods and camp out. You know Nick enjoys it, but the thought of sleeping in a tent with no air conditioner tonight does not sound like fun.

“Probably not.” You reply.

“That’s okay.” Nick assures. He can tell by the look on your face that you feel bad for ditching him. “On second thought, how about I stay here with you tonight? I know you don’t like to be in the dark alone.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not scared of the dark, I’m scared of what’s in the dark! But also, won’t you get in trouble?”

“Whatever you say, sweetness.” Nick replies. “But I’m staying. I’ll just say I’m sick. ”

“That’s…good. I want you here.” And it’s true, as you utter the words. Nick smiles, and watches as you get up to throw away the ice cream cone (one of your weird quirks that Nick has picked up is that you only like the ice cream itself, and not the cone). When you bend down to drop it into the trash can, your shorts ride up and the soft globes of your ass are exposed. Nick exhales sharply.

You hear him, and turn around to look at him in concern. “Are you okay?”

Nick coughs, eyes averting from you as his cheeks glaze over into a dusty pink. “Yeah! It’s just a little stuffy in here, that’s all.”

“Oh.” You frown. “Do you want to go to your cabin instead? You have a better air conditioner, anyway.” And then your eyes light up. “And you have a radio! We can listen to music tonight!”

Nick chuckles at your excitement. He knows you enjoy music. “Yeah, honey.”

“Yay!”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

It’s not long before almost everyone in camp is away, and you and Nick are alone. Although the trip is optional, very few people decide to stay behind. Will had left, his eyes lingering on you a bit too long as he tells Nick to ‘have fun’. Nick’s eyes had narrowed at his tone, and he had put a possessive grip on you as he guided you to his radio so he could teach you how to use it.

And that night, Nick introduces you to weed.

It’s not something you’re opposed to, you’ve just never got around to it. And when Nick pulls out a small bag of the skunk smelling drug, you’re happy to get high with him.

You giggle as Nick runs his fingers over your legs in a teasing manner. He knows your ticklish behind your knees, and of course he isn’t going to ignore the chance of getting to touch you. His radio plays ‘Fear The Reaper’ in a blaring tone, and the both of your eyes are red rimmed and watery. You move away from his hands and off to bed to explore the things in his room, dazed.

And then you catch sight of his camera.

You pick it up, and feel the plastic device with your fingertips.

“I’ve never seen you with this,” you say. “Is it new?”

Nick lifts his body up off of the bed to look at you.

“No, I’ve had it for a while.” He replies.

“Oh.” and then, your hands begin to flimsily play with the buttons.

Nick grins. “Do you want me to take pictures of you?”

The question catches you off guard, but the look on his face, begging, can’t make you say no.

“If you want.”

“That’s great,” Nick pauses, hesitant. “Can you get on the bed for me?”

“Yes sir.”

You don’t mean to say it, really, but you just want to follow his directions. You think he’s going to be freaked out, but all he does is give you a sweet smile.

“Good girl.”

Your face flushes, and your twiddle your fingers as you begin to climb onto the bed. You move your hair so it rests behind your shoulders, and smile. Nick snaps it, the perfect view of you on your knees for him. You move to another position, sideways, and tilt your head back.

So cute, Nick thinks. And all mine.

By the third or fourth, you’re comfortable enough to not be shy.

“Is this good?” You ask. You’re leaning forward now, on your knees once again. Nick can see your cleavage at this angle, and he thinks you’re the most sexiest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

“Perfect.” And then, another pause before he speaks. “You’re so beautiful.”

You blanch, as if that’s the first time he’s ever said it. You look up at him with a look he can’t quite place.

“Do you really think so?”

“I think you’re perfect.”

Dazed and Confused by Led Zepplin is playing on the radio now. The tension in the room grows intensely, in this moment, as Nick utters the words. It’s as if it’s never been experienced before. It has, many times, but usually there was someone or something to interrupt that tension.

So now, all that Nick can think to do is throw the camera onto the bed, move over to you, lean down, and press his lips to yours.

It’s probably a dumb idea, but if it goes the opposite of the way Nick wants then he can just blame it on the mary jane in his system.

But you kiss back. The boy suspects you’ve never been kissed before, because your lips move awkwardly against his. It’s endearing to him, and he moves to press himself closer to you. You moan against him when he begins to climb on top of you. He pulls away, his thighs caging your hips down. He grabs your hands and moves them above your head.

“You’ve never done this before , have you?”

You look away shyly, shaking your head as you do so to signal the word ‘no’. He grabs your face with his strong hands and guides you too gaze at him again.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, y/n. Yes.. or no?”

Your lip gets caught in between your teeth as he looks down at you hungrily.

“No.” You utter softly.

He tuts, bring his hand down to your hip and rubbing the soft skin there.

“So no one’s ever touched you here? Hm?”

You shake your head.

“Poor baby.” His hand moves down further. He’s ghosting his fingers over the crotch of your shorts. You squirm, a small squeak leaving your mouth when he presses on your clit through the fabric. “What about here, baby? Anyone ever played with this little clit before?”

“N-Nick, c’mon-“

“Who? Are you lying to me? Has someone touched you here?” His tone is demanding, now, angry. You look up at him with wide eyes. He’s always been so gentle with you, and his attitude now shock you.

“No..” and then, softly, “no sir. I promise.”

He calms, a small smirk beginning to play on his lips. He rubs, gentle and slow, on your clit. You mewl, hands going up to his hair for leverage as he teases you.

“Such good manners. Being such a good girl.”

His fingers leave you. You whine in protest, beginning to grab his hand and put it back where it was, but he pushes your grip away. He chuckles.

“No, no. You’re going to do something for me first.”

Your face goes red, when he grabs your hand and presses it against his girth.

“You feel that, baby?” He’s taunting, watching as your mouth opens on instinct and your soft wet tongue lolls out. “Feel what you did?”

“Yes. Yes, daddy, I-“

The word that leaves your mouth isn’t intentional, but when it does it has Nick groaning, thrusting his hips up into your hand.

“God, that’s it. You want me to be your daddy, baby? Wanna be my little girl?”

You nod, eagerly, and you begin to move to unbuckle his jeans. He makes a noise of disapproval, though.

“No. Stay right here.”

And then he’s moving off the bed and to the foot of it, beginning to unbuckle his belt. He beckons you over, but stops you when you begin to get off the bed.

“No,” His hand goes down into his pants, and he breathes shakily.

“Crawl.”

Your pussy is practically drenched at this point. A small moan sounds in the back of your throat, and you get on your hands and knees. The look Nick gives you as you move towards him is so dark that you aren’t sure it’s even him anymore. But fuck, he looks so handsome, so beautiful. You can’t help but do what he says.

You’ll do anything for him.

He grabs you by your shoulders and pulls you up on your knees at the edge of the bed. His shirt has ridden up, exposing a sliver of his tanned and toned skin.

“What do you want me to do now, daddy?” The words you’re saying sound so unlike yourself, but it’s like something different has taken over you. All you can think or feel is NickNickNickNickNick. Over and over, your pussy throbbing and spilling wet juices all over the inside of your panties.

“Take your shirt off, sweetheart.”

The demand is one you follow instantly, and when you slip the shirt over your head your nipples are puffy and swollen. He grins, moving down to flick one of your nipples.

“These are so pretty. We should get them pierced, don’t you think?”

The thought of needles going through your tits make you wince. Nick laughs.

“I was just joking, angel.”

“We have to have those nice and ready for our baby, don’t we?”

Your eyes widen, and he laughs again, as if pregnancy is some kind of game.

“Joking, again. God, you’re so gullible, you know that?”

You really don’t think you’d mind carrying his baby, but you don’t mention that right now. Instead, you bring your hands to the bulge in his pants. He groans in surprise, and looks down at you.

“You little minx. Get to work, then. Since you want to be so impatient.”

You hesitate, not really knowing what to do.

“Can you teach me, sir?”

He presses your mouth to his clothed cock, and you gasp at the sudden movement. You drool all over the fabric of his jeans, the confines of the zipper making his incredibly large cock press against the denim.

“Gotta taste it first, don’t you?” He teases. He yanks you away from his dick and pulls your head back so you’ll look up at him.

“Give me a kiss.”

You do, reaching up desperately to kiss him on his soft, sweet lips. He strokes your face, gentle unlike the past few minutes.

“Do you feel safe with me?”

You nod, and he nods his head in understanding at the confirmation.

He begins to unzip his fly. And then, you watch as he pulls out his thick length. You gawk at how pretty and large he is, his tip shining with precum and his balls drawn up tight.

“Do you trust me?”

His voice is rougher now. He strokes his cock, and you ache for it to feel the deep canal of your throat.

“Yes, daddy. You’re the only person in the world I’ll ever trust.”

“Good. You only need me.”

And then he’s rubbing the tip over your lips, and you’re eagerly suckling the soft skin and licking the precum off. He tastes so good, so salty and bitter but so perfectly divine. He growls low in his throat, holding back as much as he can so he doesn’t destroy your perfect little mouth.

“Yeah, just like that. Didn’t even have to tell you where to put that slutty mouth. You think about this a lot, don’t you?”

You nod, as much as you can with your mouth full.

“Run your tongue along the vein.” He directs, watching as you pull off and ask him what to do next. “You see, right there?”

You follow his directions perfectly, following the trail and then moving to kitten lick underneath his head. His eyes roll back, and he shallowly thrusts into your throat. You become desperate, then, and before he realizes what’s happening your downing his whole aching prick in one singular stroke.

“Oh, fuck, you bitch!” He’s loud, and his resolve breaks. He grabs your head with both of his hands and begins to fuck your throat with vigor. You choke, your eyes watering, but you don’t want him to let up. Looking up at him through watery lashes, you see that his had is tilted back and his mouth is open in shock and pleasure.

“I can feel the back of your goddamn throat, Jesus fuck..”

He slows, just a bit, when he sees you struggling to breathe.

“Remember to breathe through your nose, sweetness.”

His advice helps you, and soon you’re relaxed as he uses your throat. Your hands grip his thighs, and on a particularly deep thrust your nose hits the curly black hair at his base. It’s amazing, how much you can take.

Not that Nick has been with many girls, but he’s been with a few. And all of them could hardly take his cock inside their cunt, much less their throat. Nick giggles at the irony, then, sadistically. Of course you can take it. You’re made for him. And he’s your god, a life force that you’re devoted to, that you can’t ever escape.

“Yeah, you’re a pro at this,” Nick says roughly. “ My good little cocksucker.”

That sets you off, and your fingers begin to go down and rub your clit. It doesn’t take long before Nick is pulling you off and pushing you back down on the bed. He grabs you by your thighs and begins to unbuttons your shorts aggressively. When he gets down to your underwear he’s pulling them off with a quickness and shoving them into his back pocket.

You really should be shy right now, but you aren’t. It’s just that way with Nick. You can do anything, show him anything, and you’ll still feel like the most free person to ever exist. He spreads your legs wide, and he doesn’t hesitate to go down and get a taste of you.

He licks a stripe up the expanse of your drenched pussy, makes sure to add a little bit of tongue when he gets to your clit. He thumbs the swollen button, plays with it like it’s a toy. Your back arches, his touch setting flames off on your skin and inside of you.

“Nicky, please..”

Your voice is raw from getting so harshly throat fucked, your eyes droopy and already fucked out from all the foreplay. He says nothing, instead choosing to gather up some of the precum from his cock and use two now lubed fingers to shove inside of you. Your hips soar off the mattress, the sudden stretch burning intensely, but not as much as you would’ve originally thought. You’re so wet that you’re really up for anything, at this point. You flush with embarrassment when you hear your wetness gushing around Nick’s fingers. But he looks pleased, intensely so, and bends down to press a little kiss to your clit.

“Aww, look at that,” he coos. “You’re so wet, aren’t you? Did daddy make you this wet?”

“Yesyesyesyes-“ you practically scream when he rubs your inner walls a certain way, and it makes your legs shake and makes tears stream down your cheeks. “please keep doing that, daddy. Oh my God!

You can feel your orgasm approaching, and it’s embarrassing that you’re cumming this soon. But you’re a virgin, after all. You can’t help it. And so, with a sharp intake of breath and a moan, you cum all over Nick’s fingers. He watches as your juices coat his entire hand and shirt as your legs start to convulse in pleasure. He smiles, satisfied. You just squirted all over him.

“There you go.. just like that. Good girl. Give me all of that, baby.”

When you come down it’s like you’re wiped of energy. Nick notices. His hand goes up to stroke your face.

“You have to give me one more, okay? Just one.”

You shake your head, eyes going closed, but he slaps your cheek lightly to keep you awake.

“Still need fuck you, honey. I want you to be awake when I do it. Want you to remember.”

You bite your lip, hesitant, but then you nod. He smiles, and your heart flutters as you look down at him in between your legs.

“That’s my girl.”

He adjusts your thighs, pulling your spent body towards him. His cock nudges against your entrance. It’s different from what you’ve just experienced, much more intimate and warm. So he guides himself into you, gently. It hurts, and you let out a noise of displeasure. You start to cry again, but out of pain.

“Daddy- c-can’t, ‘s too much..”

“I know you can take it, sweet girl. Don’t you want to make daddy proud?”

You hiccup, tears flowing freely down your cheeks, and you whisper a small, “yes sir.”

He pushes into you for what seems like forever, and when you finally feel his pelvis pressing against your clit you jump from the stimulation. It causes you to clench down on him, and you cry out at the feeling of him losing control and thrusting into your open canal. He groans, lifting himself up with his hands to keep himself still.

“Don’t do that baby, ‘s gonna hurt you. Fuck, you’re so tiny. My cock is splitting you in two.”

Yeah, you wanted to say, like I warned you it would.

But you don’t say that, and soon his cock just feels like a lot of pressure. So when you tell Nick to move, he tries his hardest to be slow. He’s shaking, the fact of being in control of himself a new phenomenon. But when he drags himself out, slow, and then pushes himself back in, you begin to feel different. He hits that special spot again, just right, and your hips move back on him at their own accord.

“Daddy.. please. Fuck me! want it hard…”

The words spill out of your mouth quickly, your brain going haywire. Nick’s hands become bruising in their grip, and he shoves your hands over your head again and begins to pound you vigorously. Your wetness leaves a creamy ring around the base of his cock, and you look absolutely gorgeous, letting him use you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful little girl.. love having this pussy fucked, don’t you? Making daddy so proud..”

You moan loudly, his praises making more wetness drip out of you.

“Love you, daddy, love you so much!”

Nick’s hips stutter at that, and although it should be a very large milestone to cross, it feels perfectly natural, perfectly true to say, and it makes his head spin. His perfect little girl, worshipping him and his cock. You’re a dream come true.

“Holy fuck.. I love you too, sweetheart.” Your heart aches, so deeply. He loves you. Nick, the boy you’ve been completely devoted to and have worshipped the entire summer, loves you.

You can feel his thrusts speeding up, his hands bruising on your skin. ‘M gonna cum, shit-“

He twitches, flooding your sticky walls with his cum. Your hips shake, your pussy milking him dry.

“Love your cum, sir, feels s’good.” You slur. The fact that you’ve gotten riled up and haven’t came again is in the very back of your mind. Nick’s cock, his body, his devoted time and attention to you, is enough to satiate your needs. When he pulls out of you he makes sure to watch his cum drip out of your needy hole, and then rubs your clit in gentle strokes.

“just give me one more, baby. Cum for daddy one more time.”

And who are you to resist? Shaking, your brain turns to mush. Your tummy tightens and then you’re spilling again, watching as Nick looks down at you with adoration.

When you slow, his hands move up to swipe some hair out of your face and tuck it behind your ear. You smile bashfully, watching as he lays down beside you and beckons you over to him once more. It’s peaceful, resting now in the darkness of his room. The radio is still playing, soft just as before. And when you sleep, you dream of sweet nothings.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

And then two days later, you’re being harassed by the camp’s janitor.

His name is Lloyd, and he’s older, much more so. He’s noticed you around, he says. He wants to get to know you more.

You’re uncomfortable by his offer. He’s a grown man, for christ’s sakes! And not an attractive one, at that, so why would you even attempt such a thing with him?

Of course, Nick isn’t too far behind when Lloyd starts spewing harsh words when you reject him. He pulls you behind him protectively, and begins suggesting that he call his father and tell on him. Lloyd instantly backs off, but his narrowed eyes never leave yours as he walks away.

Later that night, there’s a camp bonfire. You smile as you conversate with Nick while a bag of marshmallows between the two of you. You shove one into your mouth as you discuss Carry by Stephen King, and he agrees that it’s one of the best. Your head rests on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around you. Although campers and counselors technically can’t be together, no one around really cares at the moment; they’re all too busy with their own friends to notice. You grab Nick’s hand and suggest that he take you to get more snacks from the cafeteria. He trails behind you, watching your ass bounce in the tiny skirt you’re wearing. It isn’t long before you’re buying a coke and Nick is using every excuse in the book to guide you behind the deserted building and up against the wall.

His lips press gently into your neck in a sloppy, wet kiss. Your coke is forgotten, the soft drink’s bottle sitting on the concrete beside the both of you. You fall into Nick more when he bites down softly on the spot below your ear; he’s only fucked you once, but he knows your body like the back of his hand.

You sigh, your hand grabbing his and discreetly guiding it to that warm spot in between your legs. He huffs out a laugh, watches your face contort into carnal pleasure when he rubs your clit softly.

“Needy, baby?”

“Want you..” you whine, hands gripping his shirt. “Fuck me here. Wan’ everyone to see…”

“Jesus,” he moans, your hand going down to palm his aching shaft. “Only fucked you once and I’ve already turned you into a little cockslut, huh?”

You nod as his thumb brushes over your lips in a playful manner. You bring the digit into your mouth, making sure that it hits the very back of your throat. Nick groans at that, bringing his thumb out and crashing his lips into yours. You taste like cherry coke, and from the past few days of the constant making out you guys have been doing, Nick can infer that this is just how you taste. It’s so perfect, so incredibly sweet and precious. He grabs your arms and turns you around so he can press your body against the wall behind you. His hands undo his belt, and then he’s lifting up your skirt to see your pretty cunt.

“No panties, sweetheart?”

“Just wanted to be ready for you, daddy.”

The way you say it, so giving and dedicated, makes Nick’s cock jump. When he pulls it out he presses it flush against your bare mound and slaps your lips playfully with his tip. You squirm, little pussy red and swollen.

“Love this little pussy so much, baby,” Nick coos. He rubs your clit with his length, and it makes you tremble. “Need you to beg for daddy. C’mon, be a good girl.”

You don’t even hesitate, your voice shaky and desperate. “Please! Need you so bad, daddy. Please fuck me!”

He doesn’t hesitate to shove himself inside you, then. And although the stretch still hurts, it feels better than last time and it makes you mewl as he begins to harshly pound into you. He yanks you back by your hair, your body pressed flush against him, and he uses his other hand to yank your top down and expose your tits to the night air. They scrape against the brick wall, and it the sting makes you clench around him.

“Good little bitch.. such a tight little pussy…”

And then his tone becomes darker, and he begins to put a bruising grip on your hip.

“Tommy could’ve never fucked you like this, y’know.”

The sentence catches you off guard, your body slowing its movements. But only slightly; because as fucked up as it is, Nick still turns you on. You stutter, your eyes rolling back when Nick’s cock grazes your insides perfectly.

“W-What?”

And although it seems like Nick should be ashamed or feel caught saying the thing he just said, he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers reach down to rub you clit, as he chuckles darkly.

“You heard me. That little fucker. You were going to leave me for him, weren’t you?”

Your eyes furrow in confusion, tears beginning to form at the stress of his interrogation and his harsh thrusts. Nick slaps your ass harshly, watching it jiggle and move against him more.

“Answer me!”

“No! No, I only ever wanted you! I- I didn’t-“

“Good.”

His fingers slap your pussy, and then he’s rubbing your clit in harsh circles again. You practically scream, your wetness gushing down his dick.

“Now fucking cum for me.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

You ignore Nick as he walks you back to his cabin.

You don’t know what else to do. How else are you supposed to react when your best friend slash lover decides to talk about a dead friend in bed?

It should upset you more than it does.

You’re freaked out, a little bit, of course. But the guilt, that pit in your stomach, isn’t as prominent as you thought it would be. And when Nick pulls you into a hug and softly asks, “stay, please?”, you can’t resist him. Will is out, you assume. Probably with a random girl or still at the bonfire.

None of that matters, right now. You turn your head when Nick tries to kiss you. He frowns, hands coming up to your hair.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why’d you say that stuff earlier, Nick?” You ask quietly. Your nervously bounce on the balls of your feet. “That was really mean.”

He sighs, looking regretful as he takes your face into his hands.

“I’m sorry, baby. I know I shouldn’t of said that. I got carried away..“

His lips land on yours, gentle. You’re extremely tired, your limbs weak and your pussy aching from Nick’s harsh fucking. You don’t know how to feel, but the softness of Nick’s lips makes your eyes flutter shut.

“I won’t do it again,” he murmurs, as he pulls away. His thumb goes to wipe away stray mascara that had smeared on your face. “I promise. Just stay with me?”

You know it isn’t right. You know that what he said was messed up, was something you should leave him for. But you don’t. You just nod your head obediently, and join him on his bed. And when you’re trying to sleep and his length rubs up against your thigh, he asks if you want him. You say yes, and It’s true.

And when he brings himself up to your lips, you lick his cock clean, and show him your devotion.

@itsthatonegirl

#nick goode #Nick goode x reader #Nick goode x fem! reader #nick goode smut #Ghostface! Nick goode #fear streat scream au #scream #fear street #fear street 1994 #fear street 1978 #fear street 1666 #fear street trilogy #fear street fanfiction #young! Nick goode #dom! Nick goode #sub! reader

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ferigrieving · 3 months

Text

when hell freezes over.

⊹ ࣪ in which touya todoroki finds himself.

a.n touya todoroki they could never make me hate you touya todoroki

⤷ masterlist ; requests open ; one – 2004 (here) ; two – 2006

touya todoroki was four years old when his quirk developed.

he was not a child born out of love. enji todoroki married out of desperation, an unyielding desire to surpass the current number one. a desire that not only ruined his relationship with his wife, but his children after that. a fire burned bright inside of enji, a fire that left no room to warm the icy relations he harboured with his family

touya’s training began almost immediately, a harsh regimen that demanded more from the boy than his young body could handle. hours not spent eating or sleeping, were spent attempting to foster his newfound quirk.

a quirk his body could not handle.

parents are often overjoyed when their children develop their quirks, proud of the future they now possess as a powered individual. but enji, enji felt nothing but failure and regret when he realised his only son could not manipulate ice the way his mother could. a failure, he would tell him, a disappointment to the todoroki name. nevertheless, he persisted with training, pushing touya further and further everyday.

in the dead of winter, touya found himself on the brink of exhaustion, the world spinning around him as he crawled on all fours, desperate for a break. he felt cold, so unbelievably cold against the biting wind, his flames doing nothing for him in terms of warmth. his father’s voice, sharp, and demanding, rung in his ears, urging him to push harder, to be stronger.

he couldnt do it.

in a fit of anger, he was left, alone, on sekoto peak, with nothing but his weak flame and the stars above to guide him.

“you shouldn't be out here.” a voice spoke. he wondered if he was hallucinating, collapsing on the grass and curling up in a ball. “its too cold.”

he stifled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. his weak flame danced in the wind, threatening to give out at every gust. “i have to train,” he whispered, closing his eyes. “my dad says i need to be strong.”

for a moment, silence enveloped them, the only sounds being the faint sound of crickets, and the soft crackle of touya’s struggling flames. he felt a hand on his cheek, warm to the touch. he didn't know there were physical hallucinations. he’d have to ask his mother about that when he got home. god, would his father let him in?

his eyes opened, wide, and glistening with tears. the hand was real, so real against his skin. the warmth from your touch was new, and never in his life had he ever experienced something quite like it. he leaned into it, a choked back whimper escaping his lips. he wanted more, so much more of that warmth, he could practically feel it seeping into his skin. touya had forgotten what it was like to truly feel warm.

“but you’re just a kid. you shouldn't have to train so hard.”

the voice’s words were a revelation to touya, a concept so alien it felt like a breath of fresh air. he was more than a little surprised when he came face to face with a child his age, wearing nothing but pyjamas in the cold.

touya couldnt help himself.

he took your hand in his own, holding it against his face, desperate for the warmth. it had been months since anyone treated him with such kindness, treated him like a child, instead of a tool. a person instead of a weapon. treated him like a child.

“what’s your name?”

your voice was soft, softer than any he had ever heard before. without thinking, he pulled you down with him, cold hands wrapping around your wrist in an attempt to feel. “touya.” he’d tell you, watching as you splayed your arms out on the grass below.

the sincerity in your eyes made touya feel.. safe. a foreign concept to him, but something he knew he could always find in you. he snuggled up closer to you, throwing all ideas of a personal bubble out as he seeked out the warmth you seemed to emit.

“what’s yours?”

you told him your name, no louder than whisper, and you watched as he tried it out, stretching each syllable and letter out as if it was a foreign word. rolling over, you laid your hand around his middle, seeking warmth where there was none.

touya leaned into you, seeking your touch. his small body trembled with the cold, his flame dying as he curled closer to you. the warmth from your body was a stark contrast to the ice biting his skin. no one was ever gentle to him, ever warm to him. a soft sob wracked through his body, his hands clenching the material of your shirt.

“why’re ya’ here?” he asked suddenly, the words leaving his mouth before he could really think about what he was saying. his body was stiff in the circle of your arms, not being used to the contact. but in his childish mind, the touch itself was wonderful. warm.

he hoped you weren’t a hallucination, that this dream would not be cruelly snatched away from him once he woke up. no, he wanted to stay like this, stay where it was warm and soft. he tried to press himself closer to you.

“‘m stargazin’.”

“stargazin?” he repeated, tilting his head to the side, causing the fire still faintly lit by his side to bounce back to life, dancing and illuminating the planes of his face.

he glanced up, watching the stars dot across the night sky. a frown tugged at his lips at the sight. it was cold, bitter. the stars were pretty, but that’s all they were. pretty, distant and alone in the dark emptiness of space. tilting his head up properly now, he watched as the stars glittered above them, stretching as far as the eyes could see, some dim, some brighter.

“what about that one?” he pointed at said star, a small frown on his face. “it’s brighter than the others.”

you followed his gaze to a bright star in the middle of the sky, twinkling sporadically. “that’s the north star.” you murmured. “some people call it sirius. i… think they’re the same thing.”

his eyes widened. he’d heard his mother talk about the north star before, a guiding beacon that always pointed north. he found it interesting how something so small could do something like that.

”it always points north?” he asked, rolling over so he could look at you instead of the stars. “how can it do that?” he paused. “does it get lonely being up there, by itself?”

“i dont think it does.” you turned to face him, taking in his bright, blue eyes. “look at all those stars. would you get lonely with all those friends around?”

a small pout formed on his lips, his face scrunched up in thought. no, he wouldn’t be lonely, not if he was friends with that many stars. he was quiet for a moment, contemplating that idea.

“are you friends with the stars?” he asked, turning to look up at the sky again, watching as they twinkled in the night.

you nodded vigorously, turning along side him to observe the night sky. the stars were clear from where you two lay on the mountain. the moon was full, tonight, peering down at you from where it sat in the heavens above.

after a moment, touya spoke, the words sounding like they were forcing themselves out of his mouth “...do you think i can be friends with them too?”

the question had left his lips before he could stop himself. in a state of vulnerability, he spoke his mind, something he never did. he waited to be ridiculed, for you to laugh in his face and tell him he was being stupid. instead, you were quiet.

he was just a boy, you thought. a boy who should be at home right now, playing with his toys after a good dinner, or watching cartoons curled up on his parent’s lap. a boy who you found crying in the dead of winter at midnight, alone.

“do you wanna be my friend?”

a part of him wanted to cry, wanted to sob and press himself so close to you and never let go. a part of him wanted to tell you just how desperately he wanted that.

but that part was shoved down viciously, a cold, bitter hatred settling over him.

”i don't need any friends,” he said harshly, forcing his eyes away from your face, and in an instant, the boy you found just moments earlier, was gone. “i just want to grow stronger.”

you were speechless, blinking at the sudden change of tone. one moment he seemed desperate for validation, and the next he was putting up a wall of cold indifference.

you knew you shouldn’t interfere, that you should just walk away and let the boy wallow in his training. but your heart ached at the thought, at the way his expression shifted from vulnerable to bitter in a matter of seconds.

”you don't have to be angry. you can have friends, and be strong.” you said softly. “im sure all might has friends, ‘n’ he’s the strongest.”

he paused. all might, the number one hero.

the man himself was so charismatic, so beloved by the public. touya didn't doubt that he had many friends, both heroes, villains and citizens. a frown tugged at his lips, realising that maybe his father was wrong. maybe he didn’t just have to train. maybe he could have time for a friend. or two.

”i dunno…” he said, avoiding your gaze. “i should just focus on training, thats what dad says.”

but then why did he feel so empty all the time? the only thing he focused on was training, training to make his father proud, to get stronger.

it wasn't fun, wasn’t joyful. some days he wondered if he’d ever be happy again, or if he’d be trapped in his father’s cycle for the rest of his life.

maybe he didn’t want that.

”i…” he repeated, and touya sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anything. “i gotta focus on training.”

you almost sighed in defeat, watching as his eyes darkened. he was so young, still a child, and yet he seemed so grown up. you hoped you weren't like that. the frown he wore looked wrong on his round face. you were so tempted to press the issue, but you knew it wasn't your place to do so. touya’s life was not yours to control.

but then he spoke again, almost as if the words were ripped from him, pushing themselves out of his mouth in desperation to find love.

“but.. its okay if its you.”

you paused, tilting your head as you rested on the cold grass on your elbows. an… exception? for you?

“i thought you didnt want friends.” you hummed, staring at him as if he was the most interesting thing in the world.

his frown deeped at your words, eyes narrowing. he’d hoped you’d say yes, no questions asked. he was sick of living a lonely life, a life full of empty training and sharp words. but you were right, he didn’t want friends before, so why was he asking now?

he didn’t want to admit that your presence was bringing back those thoughts. that your touch had woken something inside him, something that cried out for more, for more of your kindness, for more of your touch, for more of your words.

for you.

but he didn’t say that aloud. he couldn’t admit it, wouldn’t dare admit it. not when his father had drilled all his life that friends were a waste, that friends were a hindrance. not when he had spent years with a stone cold heart that refused to feel anything but anger and bitterness. not when he was just a four year old, and all he wanted in that moment was to bury his face in your chest and cry.

”i don’t,” he said, forcing his expression to be as cold and emotionless as possible.

“okay. ‘m sorry for askin’.”

he flinched at the way your voice softened in acceptance, the pit of his stomach twisting unpleasantly. there it was again, that guilt that welled up everytime he did something mean to you.

he didn’t want to be mean, he really didn’t. you’d been nothing but kind to him. but that bitter, dark part of his mind, a voice that sounded a lot like his fathers, kept hissing in his ear.

‘friends are for the weak.’ it would say. ‘they’re a distraction. you don’t need them.’

he almost took it back. he almost shouted, and screamed that he did, in fact, want friends. he wanted friends and kindness and everything he was never allowed to feel. he wanted to be a kid, for once.

but he remained silent, letting the quiet settle between them, a bitter feeling rising in his chest.

”whatever,” he muttered. “don’t be sorry.”

you werent friends. not when you walked him home that night, waving him goodbye as he stood there on his doorstep. not when you met up every week, in the quiet of night, to simply bathe in each other’s present. and you weren't friends when you brought him your toys, building castles with building blocks under the stars.

you weren’t friends, that was true. but in all reality, you were more than that. a friend would’ve left him alone, but you stayed. you indulged his fantasies and brought him things for him to play with, you stayed by his side and held him when he cried.

for a lonely child like touya, you were someone much, much more than a friend. he looked forward to those nights, those moments he could spend outside with you, far away from his father and his cold house.

it was enough for touya. knowing that he had someone to look forward to, that he had a place where he didn’t have to be strong. it was enough to know that he had someone who didn’t care about his father, or his quirk, or his talent. just someone who listened to him without judgement, without expectations on the child he should be.

he never admitted it, though. he never said to you that he looked forward to the nights where he could just be a child, carefree and happy.

you’d watch him, sometimes, in the big oak tree, while he trained with his father. you two never spoke about it, but you knew he could see you. you noticed when he began training harder, as if he was showing off to you. flames burning bigger and brighter. and, sometimes, you wondered if he’d accidentally burn the tree down while you were in it.

he wasn’t exactly subtle with the way he pushed himself, he knew you were there watching him. it was like he had something to prove, not just to his father, but to you. he wanted to show you how strong he was, how tough he could be. even when his body screamed at him to stop, to stop before he burnt himself down to the bone, he wanted to push on, convince you that he was getting stronger. stronger for his father, who beat him into shape night and day. stronger for his mother, for fuyumi, and his brother that was on the way. stronger for the future of a society he promised he’d protect.

stronger for you, so you would think of him as someone other than that weak, useless boy you found all those nights ago.

even as he stumbled and fell, face first in the dirt, he got up again. he ignored the harsh words of his father, focused on the tree, knowing you were sitting there, watching him as he worked himself to the bones. his body ached and ached, screaming at him to finally stop, to take a break. but he couldn’t, not while he still had you to impress.

and later that night, you’d offer him an onigiri from your house, holding your hands to his sore body and he’d relish the feeling of your quirk washing over him. he wasn't exactly sure what it did, but what he did know, was that it felt good.

your hands were cold against his cheeks, and he’d close his eyes as the ache in his body began to melt away like the first signs of spring. these moments were the only good thing to come out of training. the only time he’d ever feel relief from the harsh regimen he was put through, the only reprieve he’d ever receive from his father’s scathing words.

he’d lean into your touch, the cold soothing the pain. it was the most peace he’d feel in his life, the only time he’d let himself relax, even for a moment. he craved the touch, longed for the brief coolness you gave him.

your presence alone was enough for him. even on the worst days, when he felt like he’d never be strong enough, never be the son his father wanted him to be, your presence soothed him. just knowing you were nearby, sitting in some tree and watching him struggle to make a large flame, made him feel better.

he started to think of you as his home. his safe spot, his peace away from his harsh reality.

but still, he didn’t admit it.

he never admitted just how much he needed you.

#⊹ ࣪ ˖ greywrites #⊹ ࣪ when hell freezes over #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #dabi #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi x reader #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #dabi todoroki #mha #my hero academia #mha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha angst #bnha angst

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skynapple · 8 days

Text

Rafayel Into The Canvas: Analysis **Spoilers**

Long analysis ahead!! I've tried to break it into chronological chunks!

TL;DR - Sky rambles about Rafayel for a very long time.

I never know when he like, plans his coincidental showing-up-where-she-is things because... they really could be coincidental but I think maybe we're meant to think they're not. But the disappointment here is my weakness. Quality time is one of my love languages so like, the showing up for her and then actually being discontent with not having her time is what's really endearing to me. There's a lot of moments I really enjoy how obvious Rafayel makes it that he wants nothing more than to be around her and share the same space as her.

Then, he knows, right? He knew what she was going to say, he asked anyway, just in case, and just to acknowledge that and make it known to her.

Then ok omg 🥺 his voice.

He gets quiet, and soft, and like he's clearly trying to reassure her, in spite of what he's feeling. Just... the way he knows how she is. He knows how she gets. I could CRY.

Honestly MC really does want to, also. Like you can tell she doesn't want to let him down. That moment of not wanting to say she can't but not knowing if she can agree is sooo real. And then he captures that sentiment immediately, and in so many short words tells her like, 'Hey, I get it. I'll be here for you.' and all without saying that outright but. I used to hate how much he doesn't seem to communicate with her -and yeah he has his secrets- but the more I play this game the more I kinda realize he's the one who's allegedly 'had' her the longest over all the lifetimes so far,* so more than anyone he really speaks her language well.

*Sidenote: Cause current!Zayne doesn't know about any of his other lives with her, and Xavier although he's also spent multiple lifetimes with her... admittedly a lot of their 'long' lives weren't spent together in earnest, in their past lives there has always been a bit of a wall between them. Sylus I'd say comes maybe closest to seemingly not having their barrier but we don't know enough of his lore yet (although from what I've played through it does seem like he also speaks MC very well).

MOVING ALONG.

~5 Days Later~

I WHEEZEDDD

Leave it to Rafayel to bribe a child into making sure she finds him again. Honestly, there's some hidden messages here.

MC acknowledged she's nearly forgotten already that Rafayel said to call her. I'm sure he anticipated that (sadly 😭). And also, maybe that she'd be... directionally challenged in a brand new town? And if he's busy with the painting lessons, he probably wouldn't have been able to get on the phone and try to guide her that way himself or, maybe knew GPS wouldn't have good reception? Anyway he's SO thoughtful.

We're seeing here also Rafayel's unexpectedly very good with kids. But... maybe he's really keen on giving kids the treatment he never got as a child? Kids want to be acknowledged and taken seriously, and be dealt with patiently, and want space to let their creativity soar. Who knows how much of that he got in his childhood.

I love his "teacher" mode and it's exactly his fault for saying "paint wherever you like." Please I would have ABSOLUTELY done the same.

And he does it right back to her but like, also I couldn't help but think of God of the Tides? As a couple, did they also spend time painting their markings on each other? I wonder if it was attendants who did it for them. Was it everyday or was it some kind of water tattoo? I digress. I still think it might've sparked some memories for him.

And she proceeds to stare at him like half the time, really in awe. Same.

It's just a very, very sweet moment. There's something really special about watching someone you love do something they're really passionate about.

This is immediately becoming my favorite Rafayel card (I want to say not because I'm an artist but I'd be lying). Just the admiration they both clearly have for each other. Also, she really gets it, I think now more than ever, just how much she means to him, and also, how much he means to her. These tender moments are just as special and intimate as any physical ones, and sometimes even more so.

It's sooooo soft.

His little blush when he realized he was being stared at took me out alskdhslkg sir please have you looked in a mirror? He's so pretty when he's focused.

What got me also is him saying he'd just wait for her. Of course he kind of "teases" that she promised she'd meet up with him when she clearly didn't, but knew they'd meet up eventually if he waited long enough. This is a constant theme with these two.

Her not necessarily being willing or able to make promises to him, and him just waiting for her to fulfill these unspoken promises anyway. Either because of his love and determination, he knows or is just hopeless enough to think fate be damned, it'll happen anyway.

There's an interesting translation difference. The English "translation" that's captioned says this:

But it was either the voice actors or voice directors choice to change the spoken dialogue. What's actually spoken is this:

And I like the decision because it takes the "no big deal" out of it, which I think gets to the heart of the message and the character more.

As a voice director one of the most difficult things working with translation teams is trying to capture the essence of the story. It's not always about translating word for word, it's - ok, what's going to get this very specific point across to the audience?

Maybe it's not a big deal to Rafayel, or maybe he would say that –because he has waited so long to be physically in her presence the past few centuries already– but it's more impactful that the point is just:

No matter how long he has to wait, he will always wait a bit longer for her, because she means that much to him.

Then of course there's more playful banter, and allusion to a few things. Using the kids as a slight analogy. She did miss Rafayel.

I think it's sweet too how much she honestly does think of him in earnest, she's just not the best at explaining or expressing this. Again, her saving grace is he does speak her language and understands her.

Sometimes I think a lot about why MC is ... like that, and you know I always have to remember like... she was probably always trying to be tough as a kid? Who knows how often "grandma" was actually home, and having a "brother" kinda makes you tougher as a person. She grew up constantly not wanting people to worry about her, and it's really clear in all her routes and stories she has always struggled to express exactly what she means... mostly also because this is her "first" relationship of this nature. And there's always a huge learning curve in navigating communication like this in your first serious relationship. But... she's trying. And she's relying less on him picking up what she's putting down.

I know MC is meant to be "you" in the story but as for me, I like to imagine she probably had a sheepish grin on her face when she mentioned they lantern she made, it probably made it even easier for him to clock what she was thinking about. And even if he already planned on "gifting" it to himself, I feel his bright wide grin is probably just him realizing, 'Really? She would have gifted it to me anyway?' Because as much as you think you know someone, sometimes they find ways to surprise you anyways. You can literally hear in his voice how like,,, excited he gets.

And she's not even really embarrassed, it's heartwarming, and she laughs at her painting skills.

We get more MC continuity here!

I can't fault her for not saying like "I hope I get to spend more time with Rafayel" cause lollll as much as we wish, like, I dunno!! In that moment wouldn't you also be thinking of something like your family or your overall future?

For MC though, this is just one of her strings of continuity. She is very work and 'world peace' focused. It's in all of her routes with every LI. It's not that she doesn't love her S/O, this is just how and who she is. It's not like Rafayel isn't included in that ''healthy, happy life" she mentions.

I see it occasionally in discourse (occasionally from newer players where less lore is accessible) people immediately fault MC for not putting the boys first so... verbally, the way they do. But to me, she doesn't need to. To me, this is her way of doing so. She wants to work hard so everyone can live more peacefully, him and her included, and I think that's sweet. And I think Rafayel gets it.... even though you can tell there's a smidge in him that wishes too that she'd just outright say she wants more of his time too 😆 but, again, I think he gets it.

And then of course there's his wish, too. There's so much to unpack here. And it goes beyond him "getting it" he's... so immediately supportive. He wants to be with her every step of the way along her dreams.

You just know he's going to find ways to continue running into her. But less superficially, again, this is him saying he covets just being in the same space with her.

And then of course the ever-so-subtle lore mentions. Even if he can't be with her necessarily, he's always going to wait for her to come to him (even if she can't or won't because she doesn't remember-- but he knows she will, when she does remember).

All in all there's just this huge boost in trust between them and enjoyment of the mundane intimacy between them. He's not whiny, or pushy, he's patient, and she isn't standoffish, or embarrassed, she genuinely wants to just sit in that peace and space with him. They've grown a lot and it's very, very sweet to see.

#rafayel x mc #love and deepspace #lads meta #lnds meta #lnds analysis #lads analysis #madi plays lnds #lnds rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #lads spoilers #love and deepspace rafayel #qi yu #homura

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curarems · 1 year

Text

Vimes. So, Snuff. Oh god Vimes. My man decided to get training in raising a teenager a few years ahead of having one of his own. Just in case. Vimes sees someone younger than him, asks 'is anyone gonna care for this child' and doesn't wait for an answer.

I love him and Feeney together so much. This kid comes to his house to arrest him and he (sort of) goes along with it, even if he thinks the reason is bullshit. He lets him have some authority, but doesn't hesitate to tell him when he's wrong or do his own thing – but he still gives him the option to choose what he thinks is the right approach, whether he agrees or not. He brings him to the goblin cave, but the second he realises Feeney can't see, he wants to lead him back out and come back inside by himself. He guides him along, but doesn't make decisions for him. He trusts his knowledge on things Vimes doesn't know about (boats. just... boats. what the fuck is up with this man and boats. he is lost). He is so proud this kid respects his mum. When he sees Feeney has things handled, he doesn't jump in to take over. He still helps or takes the lead when needed.

This is not something new, either. Vimes is good at... Well, parenting. He takes Carrot under his wing, screw that Carrot is twice his size and already has parents. He and Angua don't get along at first, but later develop more of a father-daughter relationship. He sees grubby baby Nobby in Night Watch and gives him food and treats him as someone capable of making his own decisions and taking care of himself and as a person, when hardly anyone does. He is protective of Cheery and will fight anyone who insults her with bare hands and teeth.

He doesn't shy away from sharing what he knows. He tells people. He won't hesitate to give a long speech or a short demonstration to teach people better. He'll teach them to walk. He is good at teaching them to walk.

Sammies, too – they are all in contact with him, weeks, months, years after leaving Ankh-Morpork. When he runs into one of his Watchmen abroad, they are happy to see him. He couldn't have that much of a hand in their training, he is a busy man, he hardly recognizes half of his Watchmen these days; but it was still enough for them to like him, even outside of the 'oh my god it's commander vimes he's my hero' thing that starts happening by later books.

All of this, without taking into account Young Sam. Or the dad jokes.

On the note of Sammies, I know Sammies are the Watchmen trained in Ankh-Morpork that go abroad but. Look. Feeney is a Sammy to me.

#dad vimes is the best vimes pass it on #actually writing this gave me inspo for a one-shot #welp. wish me luck in actually writing it for once lol #discworld #sam vimes #feeney upshot

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 2 months

Text

Part 29

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 28 🟣 Part 30

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August, Sherlock, Charles, Melot and Napoleon

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: ongoing vampire shenanigans, an interesting proposal, Melot behaving like a child (it's not Mike for a change. Actually Mike is the sane one in this chapter??? Idk what happened.)

Word count: 2.8k (?) (Word isn't cooperating, okay)

A/N: I've got some seriously busy vamps in my brain these days... Hope you guys enjoy!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @mis-lil-red

@sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie

@plaidcat4815 @wa-ni @lovemusicpart2 @lizzystuffsthings @manysecrets2020

@sarcasmoverlordxo @mysweetlittledesire

The house was quiet. Quieter than usual, that is, because with only one human being and six assorted creatures of the supernatural variety, it was usually pretty damn quiet to begin with. You wandered the countless halls, searching for… anyone. Literally anyone.

Where were you? And more importantly…

“Lost?” Leon. The past week had taught you that you could always count on him to show up unannounced. “They’re out, you know?”

Out doing what? Leon smiled at your question. “Running. Climbing.” He appeared behind you. “Crushing a tree or two…” A strange tingle trickled down your spine, following Leon’s index finger, until he suddenly pulled his hand away. “Beg your pardon, I forget myself. Anyway” — he appeared in front of you again — “Marshall might indulge and provide fresh venison for tonight. Although I’m pretty sure we still have a sufficiently stocked freezer.”

After… that night — barely twenty-four hours ago — this really came as no surprise.

“And why aren’t you with them, instead of here, bothering me?” you sneered. For some reason, Leon always managed to get on your nerves, even if he hadn’t quite deserved it.

“I’m a demon, sweetheart,” he taunted. You hated him calling you ‘sweetheart’ almost as much as you’d hated it when August called you ‘princess’ in the beginning — maybe even more. “I’m not quite as fast as them, and nowhere near as strong.” He offered you an arm, and without thinking, you took it.

“Besides,” he said as he guided you through the halls, “vampires may have crawled out into the light over the past centuries, but I am first and foremost a creature of the night.”

“Allergic to sunlight?” you asked, looking around you as you let yourself be led God knows where.

“I’m not abducting you, sweetheart — it really bothers you when I call you that, doesn’t it?” A devious smile lay on his lips as he asked the question. “We’re headed for the kitchen. I’m parched.”

“Alright.” With Mike missing all morning to appear by your side with tea and water, you hadn’t remembered to drink anything. “So, about the sunlight?”

“I’m not allergic. I can survive in the sun as well as you can at night. It’s just that I require certain energies to sustain me, and they are more abundant between dusk and dawn.” Right. Sex demon. Leon ushered you into the kitchen with something resembling urgency.

“Please, sit,” he gestured at the bar stools. “Can I offer you some tea? Water? Coffee? Anything else, perhaps?”

“What do you want, Leon?” Part of the reason he got to you so much might have been that the man could never give it to you straight.

“To talk,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I have a proposition. It’s unconventional, but I’d appreciate it greatly if you listened to it in its entirety.”

Ah. So he did want something from you.

It was safe to say that the fact you’d been blessed with relentless curiosity had come in handy more than a few times over the past months, and it came as no surprise that this time, too, you found yourself curious rather than terrified at the prospect of this proposal.

“Alright, I’m listening,” you said as you watched Leon rummage around the kitchen at a delightfully normal speed. “And tea would be great, thanks.”

Without thinking, you wrapped your fingers around the glass in front of you. Wait. How did that get there?

“Mike may have mentioned something about your bewildering inclination to simply not drink anything, if given half a chance.” There was definitely judgment in his voice. And his eyes. And in the way his lips drew together in a tight line. Oh, and there was that sigh. It was subtle, but that didn’t mean you missed it. “Why don’t you take better care of yourself?”

“I have four vampires doing it for me,” you deadpanned.

“Potentially six,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. “And a half, if you play your cards right.”

You didn’t doubt that that was a hint towards the offer you were about to be presented with. “From where I’m sitting, I’m the one with a great hand,” you said, calming your nerves with a quiet, steady breath as your curiosity spiked. “You’re the one who has to tread carefully, I feel.”

A breeze blew past you as Leon moved to stand behind you, and as much as you wished for yourself to have gotten used to it by now, the move still startled you. Damn him.

His hands landed on your shoulders, and he squeezed lightly. Then, he was back at the counter, opposite you.

“Alright,” he said as he put your cup of tea on the bar. “You’re not wrong. And I won’t blame you if you decline my offer. After all, we barely know each other, and it is a proposal of a rather intimate nature — for you, at least. Less so for me. I simply need to eat.”

Oh. Oh. It wasn’t unexpected, per se, that the offer was related to that, but still… You knew what he was and how he fed. And now, you were somehow going to be asked to be a part of that.

“You want to feed on… me?” You already hadn’t understood this when he brought it up the other day. How did this even work? Did you… “So, what? You want to sleep with me?” The words were out before you had thought them through, and when Leon started laughing, you wanted to die of embarrassment.

“My apologies,” he said, “it’s an understandable question, but not quite what I was going to suggest. Although I wouldn’t pass up on the opportunity if it presented itself, I must admit.”

You stared at him for a few seconds — very long seconds — and sighed. “August?” You didn’t have to turn around to know he walked into the kitchen.

“There goes our privacy,” Leon said softly as he leaned on the counter.

“What’s going on here?” August asked, clearly suspicious of the scene in front of him. And with good reason. He knew — probably better than anyone — that you and Leon hardly got along great.

“Your darling brother wants to fuck me,” you said casually.

August had already begun to make himself a cup of coffee, and you watched his knuckles go pale as his grip on the countertop tightened. Leon knew better than to try and deny it.

“It’s not much of a compliment, princess,” August said softly after taking a deep breath. He turned to lean against the counter, coffee in hand. “My brother wants to fuck everything that moves.”

“Isn’t that a little stereotypical?” a suddenly appearing Mike weighed in. Marshall, Sherlock and Melot walked in soon after. They seemed equally surprised to see you and Leon having your little tea party.

“How fantastic,” Leon sneered. “The whole gang is back together. Sweetheart, I was hoping to have this conversation in private. Do you mind—”

“What you want does not just concern her,” Mike said sharply. “I’m staying. And I doubt the others will let you talk them into leaving.”

“At the very least it doesn’t concern Melot at this time, or Sherlock… potentially ever,” Leon tried, his eyes almost pleading with Mike to reduce the crowd.

“What does he want?” Sherlock asked. He was probably the only one who didn’t already know — and that included Melot, which you really didn’t mind as much as you probably should have.

The others looked at each other, then at Leon, then you before turning back to Sherlock. No one said anything.

“I’m not making this easy on him by telling you,” Mike said. “Like, don’t get me wrong, it’s not weird or anything — not weirder than we’re used to anyway. But I want him to ask for it” — he shot Leon a sharp glance — “himself.”

“Alright, out with it,” August sighed, clearly already running out of patience.

“Do I get to make my case without interruption?” Leon asked. It wasn’t the worst question. August looked halfway ready to lose his shit, and it probably wouldn’t take much to put Marshall on edge, either. Everyone nodded in response to the question. “Alright. We’re all aware of what I am, what I do, and how I feed, so I suggest we skip the biology lesson and move straight to the request—”

“You’re not screwing her,” Marshall snapped.

“Well, so much for no interruptions.�� Leon rolled his eyes. “If it’s all the same to you, I don’t feel like I have to suffer through this for a simple question, I’ll take my l—”

“Marshall, shut up and sit down. And August, not a word out of you, either.” You watched, trying to control your face while both men begrudgingly obeyed your commands. You looked at Sherlock, who nodded approvingly. “Leon, please continue. I’m listening.”

“When I decided to spend my summer here—”

“You mean ‘showed up completely unannounced’?” Melot asked, scowling at Leon.

“Melot shut. up.” The moment the words left your mouth, you felt you’d overplayed your hand.

He appeared in front of you, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. He was cold — very cold. “Did no one warn you that my age might provide a bit of an obstacle for those newly acquired powers of yours? What was your plan, my Queen? Send me to my room like a petulant child? Have me sit on the floor by your feet like a dog? I’ve been through it all, your highness, I—”

“Melot, that’s enough.” Sherlock’s voice was barely a whisper, so low you had trouble understanding what he said at all. “I must say the introduction has given me a good sense of what this request will be. Mike, am I correct in assuming it indeed does not concern either me or Melot?”

Mike nodded solemnly.

“Then I shall take this as my cue to leave, and you” — he grabbed Melot by the collar of his shirt — “are coming with me. And you’re staying with me until you can— Speak of the Devil, Priya’s timing couldn’t have been better. Come on.”

They disappeared, and the kitchen went awfully quiet for a moment, until Leon cleared his throat. “As I was saying: When I decided to spend my summer here, I was aware of the existing arrangement. I was, however, unaware of the… shall we say ‘intimate advancements’ within that arrangement.”

“And long story short, you want in?” you asked, hoping to speed things along a bit. It still wasn’t entirely clear to you how this was all going to work without… sex.

Marshall raised his hand, to your surprise, and you nodded. “Thank you. If I may answer that question you didn’t ask… It won’t work out without sex.”

“But he said he didn’t want—”

“For the sake of honesty, I didn’t say I don’t want to,” Leon reminded you, “but rather that that was not what I’m asking.”

“Then what are you asking?”

“I’m asking if I can feed on your passive sexual energy,” he explained briefly. That wasn’t nearly enough information.

You turned to August, vaguely remembering a conversation you’d had with him. “I thought succu— I mean incubi only fed off… Orgasms?”

“Is that what he told you?” Leon laughed. “I don’t blame him, of course. But I’d hardly dare to lecture you on vampires and their habits, despite my technically dual nature.” He sounded annoyed — maybe rightfully so.

“The people who work for me like their jobs, August, but they don’t have orgasm after orgasm on stage.” Napoleon sighed and shook his head. Whatever remnant of understanding you’d had about what was going on in this conversation was gone now, and you were lost.

“Rewind and freeze, guys. Passive energy? People who work for you?”

“The details of my occupation are best left for another conversation. To answer your other question: Passive energy refers to any kind of consumable energy a succubus or incubus can feed on, that they are not involved in creating. Orgasm isn’t a requirement at all — any incubus worth his salt can pick up on far more subtle kinds of energy. Now, it is generally acceptable to munch on the small things without asking — flirting, tension, a kiss or other displays of affection, et cetera. Now, when things progress beyond that most humans would consider feeding off that without asking for consent a major violation of privacy—”

“Just… humans?” Was that such a completely unreasonable train of thought, then?

“A few centuries go a long way in changing your perspective on a host of things,” August explained patiently. “You’ll experience some difficulty finding a strictly monogamous vampire over the age of… let’s say two-fifty.”

“Are there monogamous incubi? Is it ‘incubi’ or ‘incubuses’?”

“Either of those is correct,” Leon answered with a charming smile. “And to answer your question bluntly: no. As a species, we’re exclusively non-monogamous — not necessarily unwilling to enter into serious relationships, but monogamy would be… torture.”

“Questions about your kind aside…” Was Mike the one keeping a conversation on track for a change? What had the world come to? “Get to the proposal. I mean… I have my answer ready to go.”

“Right.” Leon nodded. “Well, without further ado: I’d like to request permission to feed on the available energies in this house.”

You’d seen it coming for a while now, but the question still took you by surprise on a level you didn’t quite understand. It was quiet for a while, and your face got hotter with every passing second, because everyone was staring at you.

In the end, it was Mike who broke the silence. “I’m okay with it.” No surprise there, really.

“It’d be hypocritical of me to be opposed to this,” August said next.

“I’m willing to pay my share in your current arrangement, if that makes you more comfo—”

“No!” That didn’t sit right with you at all. Four pairs of eyebrows shot up in surprise at your answer. How were you going to explain this? “That agreement comes with the responsibility to provide them with food no matter the circumstances. I don’t think I can promise you that.”

Leon nodded. “I understand that. That said… Do you have an answer for me at all?”

Pushy. Arrogant. Annoyingly sure of himself. Why on earth did you like that about him?

“Pardon my ignorance, but how does this work?” you asked, your voice trembling ever so slightly. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that the guys picked up on that — especially since Mike put his arms around you and put his chin on your shoulder.

“You’re asking me if I have to be in the room, aren’t you?” For someone who didn’t read minds… “I don’t read minds, sweetheart. But I do read people. And your face has subtitles.”

Great. “Yeah. That’s what I’m asking.”

“I don’t have to be,” he answered plainly. “I’m not opposed to it, either.”

“Watch it,” August growled.

“Can’t blame me for trying, brother.”

“Okay, so… It would be much like August… listening in, then?” You took a deep breath. That didn’t sound too bad — not that you were in any way dead set against his presence, either… As soon as you caught yourself with that thought, you heard Mike swallow hard.

Dirty little pervert.

“Does that still surprise you?” No. No, it definitely did not. You side-eyed Marshall, who tried hard to fight a dirty smile off his face.

“You’re no better.” The remark made him chuckle, and an image of your night in the shower flashed in your mind for a moment.

You cleared your throat before turning to Leon again. “I think my diplomatic answer would be that I’m fine with you feeding off anything that doesn’t happen behind closed doors,” you said slowly. “Other than that, I’d like the opportunity to go on a case-by-case basis, but I don’t see how that would work.”

“My guess is that someone would be available to communicate your wishes,” Leon offered. “And if not, well… It’s ‘no’, unless it’s ‘yes’, right?”

“That sounds agreeable.” You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, which was unusually dry, but your hands were so sweaty that you didn’t dare to pick up your cup.

“Hm, no door in sight,” Leon muttered softly. “Lucky me.”

His teasing would be the death of you, dammit! “Keep in mind that me not taking on any real responsibility in this matter, means I can deny you everything. You might want to consider playing nice.” “Where’s the fun in that, sweetheart?”

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lisa972kdlz · 4 months

Text

(The French version is below)

I just realized something.

About Dreamtale. Why we're so touched by this AU, and by the twins.

I just understood why Nightmare is so popular, why he touches us, why he touches ME, even though he's NOT my favorite character compared to Dream, Ace or Error.

Because we identify with his problems?

Yes.

Because we sympathize with his backstory?

Certainly.

Because we love drama and tentacles?

... Meh, for sure.

Because Dreamtale brings an extremely interesting symbolic theme about feelings?

Indeed.

Because fandom has developed the story of the two siblings in all its forms, and we've been taken on board without really realizing it by the fan creations - comics, drawings, fan fiction - that we discover as we go along?

Absolutly.

But that doesn't explain the intensity of this emotional involvement. Why did Nightmare inspire me so much, and still do today? Because very often MAIS CHIOTTE DE SES MORTS QU'IL ME SAOULE BORDEL DE SCROGNEUGNEU?! (Untranslatable in English, sorry QwQ)

And then I realised.

"The two siblings"...

Doesn't this story remind you of another?

I don't know why, but I get the impression that NOBODY makes this obvious parallel. At least I've never seen any comparative fanart or people talking about it.

The majority of Dreamtale fans are first and foremost Undertale fans, who went through the Gameplay, Let's play's, etc. before discovering the AU's. The majority have played or watched the game and discovered the Lore. Listened to the OSTs. Enjoyed the characters.

The majority witnessed the magnificent end of the Pacifist Timeline and the ensuing burst of tears.

And who, for God's sake, has never been touched by Asriel's fate? This child who died far too soon, who never meant any harm to anyone, who died because of a bad decision, then was resurrected as a sadistic, soulless being incapable of love?

Don't you think Night looks a lot like him? And that Dream is a cross between Frisk and Chara?

Not in personality, nor necessarily in the story, but in the way they touche the audience through their shared destiny.

Two siblings who love each other dearly are brutally separated by a quarrel in which one loses his life, transformed into a powerful, emotionless demon. The other sleeps for years before waking up, lost and confused... Then they embark on an adventure with a guide, discover the world that has evolved without them, grow up, meet new people, help, save.

And this co-dependent relationship. The demon is still a child at heart. He wants to play with his sibling, even to the point of committing atrocious acts to make them stay with him, even if it means taking their soul and killing them a million times over. But nostalgia takes hold of him again. Deep in his overpowering heart, he feels all the souls of the world bound together, he feels determination of monsters and humans, the love they have for each other. It's all too much for him. He succumbs to his feelings and bursts into tears. He apologizes. The two siblings reconcile.

It's the kind of story we'd all like to give Dream and Nightmare, isn't it?

We want to save Night.

But like Asriel, it's impossible. We all know by now that Corrupted Nightmare isn't Night, don't we? It's a revelation that hits us when we search a bit on the creator's Tumblr after reading the Prologue. The story leaves us no choice: he died five hundred years ago, and that remains unchanging. There is no hope.

He has to go. Become corrupt again. He has to die again. Because that's how it must be.

Yeah yeah, we love Sans in Undertale, he's pretty cool and the Multiverse revolves around him. But as soon as we play the game, it's Asriel we're crying for. For good reason, Dreamtale, the story that most closely resembles his tragedy, is one of the most popular universes. Is that chance? Or have we all unconsciously drawn the parallel?

Now, when I listen Hopes and Dreams, Save the World, His Theme, one part of me thinks of Asriel and Chara, the other part thinks of Dream and Nightmare.

It was to save Asriel that fans started developing parallel universes. And it's to save Night that we're repeating the process.

It would have been a lot cooler to put Dream and Nightmare in Chara and Asriel's bodies, I think.

And the HELL you imagine CORRUPTED NIGHTMARE WITH THE APPEARANCE OF FULL-POWERED ASRIEL ????

Damn, I would have fan-girled instead of foe-girl on him I guess 🤔

Or for those who love big, ugly monsters, in PHOTOSHOP FLOWEY mode!

Delightfully nightmarish, I approve 👌✨!

____________________________________

Je viens de comprendre un truc.

À propos de Dreamtale. Pourquoi on est autant touché par cet AU, et par les jumeaux.

Je viens de comprendre pourquoi Nightmare est aussi populaire, pourquoi il nous touche, pourquoi il ME touche alors que POURTANT, ce n'est pas mon personnage préféré comparé à Dream, Ace ou Error.

Parce qu'on s'identifie à ses problèmes ?

Oui.

Parce qu'on compatie à sa backstory ?

Certainement.

Parce qu'on aime le drama et les tentacules ?

...Meh, à coup sûr.

Parce que Dreamtale apporte une thématique symbolique extrêmement intéressante à propos des sentiments ?

Tout à fait.

Parce que le Fandom a développé l'histoire des deux frères sous toutes les formes et que nous avons été embarqués sans trop s'en rendre compte par les créations des fans, comics, dessins, fanfictions, que nous découvrons au fur et à mesure ?

Absolument.

Mais voilà, tout ça a le bénéfice de me convaincre, mais ça n'explique toujours pas l'intensité de cette implication émotionnelle. Pourquoi Nightmare m'a autant inspirée et m'inspire encore aujourd'hui ? Alors que très souvent MAIS CHIOTTE DE SES MORTS QU'IL ME SÂOULE BORDEL DE SCROGNEUHGNEUH ?!

Et c'est là que j'ai réalisé.

"Les deux frères"...

Cette histoire ne vous en rappelle-t-elle pas une autre ?

Je ne sais pas pourquoi, mais j'ai l'impression que PERSONNE ne fait ce parallèle pourtant évident. En tout cas je n'ai jamais vu de fanart comparatif ou de gens en parler.

La majorité des fans de Dreamtale est avant tout des fans d'Undertale, qui sont passés par le jeu travers le Gameplay, le Let's play, etc. avant de découvrir les AU's. La majorité a joué ou regardé le jeu et découvert le Lore. Écouté les OST. Apprécié les personnages.

La majorité a été témoin de la magnifique fin de la Timeline Pacifiste et de l'éclat de larmes qui en découle.

Et qui, bon sang mais qui, n'a jamais été touché par le destin d'Asriel ? Cet enfant mort bien trop tôt qui n'a jamais voulu de mal à personne, mort à cause d'une mauvaise décision, puis ressuscité en un être sadique et sans âme, incapable d'aimer ?

Vous ne trouvez pas que Night lui ressemble énormément ? Et que Dream serait le mélange de Frisk et de Chara ?

Pas dans la personnalité, ni dans l'histoire forcément, mais dans la manière dont il touche le public par leur destin commun.

Deux frères qui s'aiment énormément sont brutalement séparés par une dispute où l'un perd la vie, transformé en un démon surpuissant et dénué de sentiments. L'autre dort des années durant avant de se réveiller, perdu, confus... Puis il se lance à l'aventure en compagnie d'un guide, découvre le monde qui a évolué sans lui, grandit rencontre de nouvelles personnes, aide, sauve.

Et cette relation co-dépendante. Le démon est encore un enfant au fond de lui. Il veut jouer avec son frère, au point de commettre des actes atroces pour rester avec lui, même s'il doit s'emparer de son âme et le tuer un million de fois. Mais la nostalgie s'empare à nouveau de lui. Il sent au fond de son cœur trop puissant les âmes liées entres elles, il sent leur détermination, l'amour qu'ils ont les uns pour les autres. C'est beaucoup trop pour lui. Il succombe à ses sentiments et éclate en larmes. Il s'excuse. Les deux frères se réconcilient.

Belle histoire qu'on a tous envie de donner à Dream et Nightmare, pas vrai ?

On a envie de sauver Night.

Mais comme Asriel, c'est impossible. Nous savons tous à présent que Nightmare Corrompu n'est pas Night, n'est-ce pas ? C'est une révélation qui nous percute quand on cherche un peu sur le Tumblr de la créatrice après avoir lu le Prologue. L'histoire ne nous laisse aucun choix, il est mort il y a cinq-cents ans et cela reste immuable. Il n'y a aucun espoir.

Il doit s'en aller. Redevenir corrompu. Il doit mourir à nouveau. Parce que c'est comme ça que ça doit se passer.

Oui, on aime Sans dans Undertale, il est vachement cool et le Multivers tourne autour de lui. Mais dès qu'on joue au jeu, c'est pour Asriel qu'on pleure. Pour cause, Dreamtale, l'histoire qui ressemble le plus à sa tragédie, est l'un des univers des plus populaires. Un hasard ? Ou bien avons-nous tous fait inconsciemment le parallèle ?

Maintenant, quand j'écoute Hopes and Dreams, Save the World, His Theme, une part de moi pense à Asriel et Chara, l'autre part pense à Dream et Nightmare.

C'est pour sauver Asriel que les fans ont commencé à développer des univers parallèles. Et c'est pour sauver Night qu'on réitère le processus.

Ça aurait été vachement plus cool de mettre Dream et Nightmare dans des corps de Chara et Asriel je pense.

Et bordel vous imaginez NIGHTMARE CORROMPU AVEC LA FORME D'ASRIEL FULL-POWER ????

Ah bah j'aurais peut-être fan-girlé au lieu de foe-girler pour le coup 🤔

Ou pour ceux qui aiment les gros monstres pas beaux, en mode PHOTOSHOP FLOWEY !

Délicieusement cauchemardesque, j'approuve 👌✨!

#undertale au #undertale #dreamtale #nightmare sans #night sans #asriel #asriel dreemuur #asriel and night #SOMEONE MAKE A NIGHTMARE!ASRIEL FANART PLEASE !!!!#Wait no if I fan-girl on him I will loose my honor...#FUCK OFF MY HONOR DO IT #flowey #photoshop flowey

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itsabouttimex2 · 11 months

Text

Platonic Noodlefam Headcanons

(Pigsy is best dad, I’ll be the first to say)

Growing up with these three is wildly chaotic. MK’s boundless energy, Tang’s noodle shenanigans and Pigsy’s hair-trigger temper has definitely left an impact on you.

Probably, you’re some kid that Tang finds god knows where, and he thinks: “If Pigsy can raise a kid, I can too.”

And he’s not entirely wrong, because you do find yourself slowly assimilating into this strange little family. To even out this wacky high-energy trio, you quickly mature and become somewhat stoic, providing a steady rock for the others.

However, if you’re younger than MK, you’ll definitely provide him with another insecurity to overcome. Having someone who is younger than him be more mature and sometimes far more helpful can be incredibly demoralizing. Still, he’s a protective presence in your life, always stepping up to shield you from danger. Anyone who dares to lay a hand on you will; in short order, find themselves face down in the dirt.

If you’re older, he instead looks up to you as a stable and competent source of support. He cares for Pigsy and Tang, really, he does. But Tang can be petty and is somewhat dramatic, and Pigsy, though reliable, can be grumpy and blunt. You provide a constant in MK’s life, someone he can turn to and ask for advice without too much judgment.

Either way, expect to cover more than a few shifts while he’s out saving the city/world.

For Tang, you’re a motivator to be better, because he can’t let a child take his place as “the smart one”, though he eventually realizes that being mature doesn’t mean that you’re as well-learned as he is. In fact, forcing yourself to be mature and reliable all the time without any breaks is clearly grinding you away bit by bit. On your particularly rough days, he’ll take you aside and have you sit down with him for a while. He’ll read you some of the lighter stories from Journey to the West, giving you a much-needed moment to recharge.

For Pigsy, you’re another troublesome child. Refusing to take breaks or reject requests for help, you run yourself dry to lend a hand to others. I personally think a lot of people overlook just how genuinely capable and successful Pigsy is in canon. Raised a kid by himself while running a popular noodle shop, also by himself. He’s clearly very skilled and dedicated.

And experienced, too. You think he doesn’t know that you’re worn out, kid? That you haven’t slept in four days? Nice try. He’ll put a hand on your back and guide you to your room, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed until you finally lay down and pass out.

Spending time with Tang and MK together almost always results in you and your brother sitting side by side as Tang recites tales of the Monkey King’s journeys. MK usually has his head on your lap or shoulder, but he never falls asleep. He just sits there, fervently taking in each and every word. Also, expect to try lots of new food with them. Pigsy puts something new on the menu? You all are trying it together. A new food stall opens? The three of you are first in line. A limited edition drink comes out? Your little triad will be testing it day one.

MK and Pigsy are pretty much opposites, one grounded and down-to-earth, the other energetic and reckless. However, they clearly care for each other greatly, and make for a good team whenever they join forces. Probably you work at the noodle shop with the two of them, giving them plenty of opportunity to look out for you. MK will physically push himself between you and any unruly customers, ready to square off, but Pigsy is quick to grab said customers and throw them outside.

Pigsy and Tang obviously serve as the parental figures in this little quartet, but one is a lot better at it than the other. Tang will probably feel more like a cool uncle that comes to visit on holidays, but you’ve accidentally called Pigsy “dad” more than a few times. You should expect for any potential suitors to be warded away without hesitation. Tang will cry out about his ‘weak ankles’ and then “accidentally” trip and spill his noodles on whoever is bothering you. Pigsy will straight up launch a wooden spoon directly into the face of anyone who dares to hit on you while you’re working.

Altogether, you’re a surprisingly functional family unit that’s far from nuclear, but your differences only serve to bring you closer together.

Essentially:

#Lego Monkie Kid #LMK #MK #Tang #Mr. Tang #Pigsy #platonic #Noodlefam #Not Yandere

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oldiesstationlover11607 · 2 months

Text

Break the Cycle - Clancy x Reader

Relationship: Tyler Joseph/Clancy x Fem!Reader and Josh/Torchbearer x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Violence, anything related to Dema or the Trench story that's generally triggering

Word Count: 1987

Summary: When Tyler escapes Dema, you're told by your bishop Keons to go into Trench and bring him back, but you soon realise things aren't what you thought they were.

Tyler had disappeared during the Annual Assemblage and I wasn’t surprised in the least. He’d been rebelling against Keons ever since he was twelve, despite being the Bishops’ favorite in the district. Tyler and I had grown up together, we were best friends, but he had always found a way to get into trouble. Our whole friend group knew it would be sooner rather than later that he would get the attention of Blurryface, I just didn’t think he’d leave Dema before it happened. Everyone over sixteen had their own room in the city and Keons must’ve noticed Tyler was missing because he had shown up outside my place.

“Bishop?” I’d answered the door to the elder dressed in red. I had no idea how Tyler could be around him so often without being scared.

“My child, Clancy is gone. Do you know where he is?” Clancy. Tyler’s nickname. It meant ‘son of the red warrior’ and was only really ever used formally. I opened the door further for Keons to enter.

“No Father, I haven’t heard anything from him since yesterday and everything seemed normal,” I stuttered out, feeling my hands shake, “I didn’t even know you knew who I was.”

“Clancy talked about you a lot, Y/N. I want you to find him and bring him back here, Nico would like to meet him.” He rested his black hand on my shoulder and I felt a cold wave run through my body. “I care about him very much and I know you do too, my child.” There was no arguing with a Bishop. If you did what they said, there was the chance to attend the Assemblage and become a Glorious Gone, the very stage of existence we all aimed to achieve in Dema.

“I will try to find him Father, but what if he’s left the city?”

“Then you enter Trench and you find Clancy.”

Keons had suggested I leave Dema straight away. He said the Bishops had a feeling Tyler had left the city. Head true east, out via the tunnels. Dema’s tunnels were known for being dark, cold, and empty. I’d packed a bag with everything I might’ve needed, a torch, warm, dark clothes, and a map of Trench. I was 100% prepared to find Tyler. Except for one thing. A body. Warm, not cold. Another torch, not Tyler’s. I jumped when I saw it, scared the shit out of me.

“Are you okay?” A voice called from further inside the tunnel.

“I’m fine. No one is supposed to be in the tunnels,” I spoke.

“Then what are you doing here?” He was dressed in an army green coat with a yellow taped cross, the center landing on his chest. The hood of his coat was up and I couldn’t see his face, a yellow bandana covering it.

“I’ve been sent by a Bishop to find my friend. What are you doing here?”

“I’m leaving the city,” he pointed to the light at the end of the tunnel. “I can help you find your friend.” Keons had told me not to trust anyone, find Ty and bring him straight home.

“I think I can find him myself,” I said, continuing to walk towards the end of the tunnel.

“Your loss, Trench is pretty big. And without a guide you could get lost,” he walked behind me. This was when I started to contemplate being alone within Trench, somewhere I’d never been before. It could get cold out there and god only knew what kind of animals or beasts came out at night. “You could get hurt.”

“Why would you care if I got hurt?” I turned around and looked him dead in the eyes.

He looked surprised, “Because you’re alone. You’re leaving Dema for the first time and you have no idea what you’re walking into.”

“Oh and you do?” I snapped back.

“I live there.”

He lived there. This man lived in Trench. No one lived in Trench. “Do you want me to help you or not?” I thought about it for a second. I thought about Tyler and if he was okay, if he was still alive.

“What’s your name?” If I was going to let this man lead me to Tyler I needed to know who he was.

“You tell me yours first,” he quipped back.

“No.”

“They call me The Torchbearer.” I audibly laughed. He didn’t seem very impressed at that. “What’s your name?”

I thought for a moment before answering, “They call me Artemis.” Sacarver had gifted me that name during a confession session.

“Greek goddess of the wilderness? Of course they sent you,” Torchbearer scoffed. “They like ones like you, that’s why he left.” Tyler? Had Torchbearer seen Tyler? But before I could ask he continued walking forward. “Come on.” I followed quickly behind, noticing his occasional paranoid looks back.

Torchbearer and I walked through a rocky valley and towards the place he referred to as ‘camp’. I was sure camp implied there were going to be more people that just Torchbearer there.

“How much further are we going to have to walk?” I asked, regretting the shoes I’d chosen. We’d been walking for days.

“Not far. But when we arrive you’re going to need to lay low so I can make sure it’s safe for you.” I had no idea what that meant. All I could think about was Tyler. If he was okay.

We walked for another twenty minutes before I could see tents perched up on a hill. I’d spoken to Torchbearer about Tyler, not using his name for safety but speaking about what he was like. I had hoped Torchbearer could help me find him but I was losing hope. He was monotone with his responses and seemed paranoid as we walked.

“I’m going to greet everyone, you need to stay behind me the whole time.” I ignored his request and looked over his shoulder. “I’m not joking,” Torchbearer stared me down, the yellow bandana and hood still covering most of his face. This was when I noticed the color of his eyes, hazel. Tyler’s eyes were a cold brown. I’d remembered this because he always looked tired and worn out despite doing the same tasks as everyone else. Keons was relying on me to bring him back home. Keons knew how I really felt about Tyler and promised me he wouldn’t tell Blurryface if I returned with Ty. Love wasn’t allowed to be felt in Dema. Yes, people were married but they were coupled off by the Bishops and had children to keep the city alive, not for love. Those who were ‘in love’ generally ended up visiting Blurryface and came out ‘normal’. Almost as if hating the person they once loved. I wasn’t willing to risk that.

“Artemis,” I felt Torchbearer’s hand on my shoulder. I must’ve zoned out.

“Hmm?” I looked up and came face to face with about 50 other people dressed in yellow, mostly men.

“These are the Banditos,” he pushed me forward slightly and I managed an awkward wave. Tyler had mentioned the Banditos once, but everyone had assumed he’d made them up. “I’m their leader, taught them everything there is to know about Trench.” I took in the camp, it was relatively developed, and seemed homey. “Jenna!” Torchbearer called out and a blonde woman appeared at his side. He leaned down and whispered something in her ear. She nodded and disappeared before reappearing with a man dressed in black. He was the only one with red tape on his shoulders and a full face mask, covering everything but his eyes. “Leave us,” Torchbearer hung up his torch and walked us over to his tent, everyone other than the man in black had gone back to their tents. As I sat down I noticed Torchbearer had zipped up the door and was taking off his jacket and removing his bandana. Again, an army green shirt with yellow tape across his chest. Torchbearer had curly brown hair, black gauges in his ears and nose rings on either side of his nose, a look which would be severely punished in Dema. “Y/N. That is your name, correct?” He turned to the man in black who nodded.

“How do you know that?” I pressed, worried that I’d walked into the very thing Keons had told me to stay away from. Tyler was the only one who still called me that.

“Do you know who this is?”

The masked man was staring me down, as I answered, “No.”

“This is my right hand, someone I trust will show you around Trench and explain the truth to you,” Torchbearer nodded at the man who started to take his mask off. “Oh, and I’m Josh. Any friend of his can call me Josh,” he smiled gently before leaving us alone in the tent.

“Artemis?” It was Tyler. Of course Torchbearer–Josh would have him.

“Tyler?” I stared at his brown eyes, warmer than the last time I’d seen him. “We need to go home, Keons sent me to bring you back. We’re worried about you.” I reached out for him but he moved away.

“Don’t call me Tyler, I go by Clancy now,” his head was now shaved, the brown hair I’d fallen in love with was gone. Tyler was gone.

“But–”

“You’re brainwashed. Vialism isn’t real and the Bishops, they’re controlling you.” I felt my eyebrows curve in hurt. He was lying. I trusted Keons but he wouldn’t have sent me out here without explaining everything to me.

“But Keons. He–”

“He’s an insider. Betrayed Nico a long time ago. Also told me how you felt and sent me out of the city knowing you’d follow me,” Tyler spoke with strength. He was a totally different person than I thought he was.

“But… our friends?” I felt tears start to spike my eyes, “the Annual Assemblage?”

“They get you to kill yourself so they can seize your body Artemis, there are no Glorious Gone.” I was going to be sick. I felt dizzy as the world spun around me.

“Tyler I–”

“Clancy.”

“I –I can’t do this.” My body felt cold, goosebumps popping up across my arms and legs. “I–I love you–I.” Tyler placed his hands on either side of my face and pressed his forehead against mine.

“Artemis. You are strong. You’ve survived Dema and that’s the hardest thing to do. Josh has kept an eye on you for me and he’s smart, smarter than me. I need you to let me go until we can defeat the Bishops and retake Dema.” Artemis, he never called me that. I shook my head in denial.

“Tyler–”

“Clancy,” he interrupted again, this time harsher.

“I’m leaving,” I stood up and walked out of the tent only to feel a pair of arms wrap around me. Josh. I let out a loud scream, kicking my legs and trying to free myself.

“I told you she’d try to escape,” Josh looked back at Tyler.

“I thought she’d understand. I did,” Tyler looked disappointed.

“She isn’t you Clancy,” Josh sighed before dragging me into an empty tent and tying my wrist to the centre pole. Tyler had left.

“I loved him and he’s ruined everything,” I cried, trying to loosen the rope around my wrists. “Our friends... if what he’s saying is true then they’re not safe.”

Josh bent down to face me, “We are watching your friends Artemis, when the time is right they will be brought here to you and Clancy. I need you to know that this is for your own good. Know that when you begin to understand the gravity of the situation, Clancy will be waiting for you.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I swore and Josh's eyebrows raised subtly in surprise.

“It means he loves you, idiot. You just have to break the cycle.”

I love writing Clancy stories tbh. Requests open!!

#tyler joseph #tyler joseph fan fiction #Twenty One Pilots #twnety one pilots #twenty one pilots edit #twenty øne piløts #josh #Joshua dun #josh dun fanfiction #Josh Dun!#masterlist #clancy #clancy imagines #torchbearer #torchbearerimagines #dema #dema imagines #trench #trench imagines

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observeowl · 2 years

Text

Miscarriage N.R

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha wasn't there when R needed her at the most desperate times

Your POV I was waiting in the hospital, going through my life decision. What has caused it to go downhill? Everyone here was at least with someone yet I was here alone.

I have been having some discomfort around my stomach and knowing that I have been having some difficulty during my pregnancy, I knew it was not a good sign.

With one last try, I decided to text Nat.

You: Nat, can you accompany me to the doctors?

Nat: Why did you message me? I thought I told you not to disturb me at work?

You: I know, but I really wanted your support. And everyone here is with their partners.

Nat: So? They probably booked an appointment. You just decided to go without telling me.

You: This is the A&E And I seriously think something’s wrong with our child

Nat: You’re making a big deal over nothing. Stop finding me during work.

I sighed as I set down my phone. Nat changed during the last few months of the pregnancy. At the beginning, she was really kind and attentive but she started to drift away and focus on work. Even when she’s back, we hardly have any conversation.

“Ms Y/L/N.”

The doctor called my name and I stood up.

“I’m sorry, but there appears to be no heartbeat.”

“What?” I wasn’t sure if I heard correctly.

“Sorry for your loss, your child has passed away. I’ll start with the papers to get you admitted for induced labour. Do you have anybody to call?”

I shook my head.

“Okay, I’ll give you a moment.”

This was it, my child died before I got to hold them in my arms. I looked towards my belly for one last time. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better mum, I couldn’t give you the future you deserve. Something must be wrong with mummy that’s why you had to suffer. I’m so sorry…” My bottom lips quivered as I caressed my belly, the overwhelming feeling of loss was beginning to get to me as I let the tears flow down my cheeks.

I was still sobbing when the doctor returned. “I’m sorry.” I wiped my tears with the back of my hands.

“No, it’s okay. I’m here to guide you to your ward.”

--- >after stillbirth/induced labour<

I was laying on the hospital bed after birth. Thanks to the nurses and doctors, I was able to hold him in my arms at least once. He was so tiny at 5 months. They had to do the birth and death certificates as I remained in the ward.

They told me I was only allowed to discharge the next day since they needed to make sure everything was fine and there were no other complications.

I woke up from my nap by the ringing on my phone. I stretched over to pick up the phone and it was Wanda.

You: Hi Wanda.

Wanda: Oh my god, Y/N! You finally picked up your phone. Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you for hours! We were all so worried. Where are you?

You: I’m… I’m at the hospital.

Wanda: Oh my god! Do you need me to go over? Did anything happen? Nevermind, I’ll just come over.

You: Thanks Wanda. Can you come alone?

Wanda: Sure Is everything alright?

You: Please… I just want you.

Wanda: Okay. I’m coming over now.

After the conversation with Wanda, no matter how much it hurts, I curled up in a ball and started crying again.

I was still crying until I felt Wanda’s hands around me. She looked at me in a disarray state and knew what was wrong. “He’s gone… He died… All because of me…”

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t wish for this to happen.”

Second POV Wanda stayed with you throughout the night. She wanted to inform the team where you were and that you were safe but you told her not to do that. You just wanted to be left alone.

Wanda tried to talk to you during the ride back but you would either ignore her or just make some noise. What she said you had no idea, in through one ear and out the other.

Everyone crowded around you when you came back because you have been missing for a day. You shot them a quick smile before taking your bag from Wanda and headed for your room. “Don’t let anyone in JARVIS.”

“Yes Ms Y/L/N.”

“What happened to Y/N?” Steve asked after seeing you went up the elevator emotionless. They didn’t know anything except for Wanda rushing out to get you. Your belly was still around the same size since it wouldn’t go down until a few weeks later.

“She lost the baby.” Wanda said in a low voice.

Only gasps were heard from the room, everyone was so excited for the arrival of the new baby. “Does… Natasha knows about this?” Steve inquired wearily.

“I don’t think so.”

Natasha was nowhere to be seen. She has been in her office in SHIELD so people hardly know what’s going on with her. Only Clint and Steve ever entered her office to look for her but she would only chase them out without explanation.

“So she’s still in SHIELD?” Steve nodded his head.

“I’m going to call her.” Wanda said as she made her way up to your room.

Nat: Wanda, what is it?

Wanda: I need you to come back.

Nat: Why? You know I’m working.

Wanda: It’s about Y/N.

Nat: I know. She told me she went to the hospital yesterday.

Wanda: And you didn’t go?

Wanda tried to open your door but it was locked. She told JARVIS to open the door but the AI couldn’t refuse your orders.

Nat: Does it really matter?

Wanda: It does.

Wanda opened the door with her powers and saw your dark room. You were not under the covers where she was expecting so she turned to the bathroom.

“Oh my god! Y/N!” She found you covered in blood, lying on the bathroom floor. “BOYS!!” She yelled but decided that bringing you down to the lab would be faster.

Nat: Wanda! What’s happening? Shit.

Wanda couldn’t reply as she left her phone on the floor as she carried you down. Everyone looks at you as Bruce prepares the medical supplies. Steve tries to place pressure on your wound as Wanda runs back to her phone.

Natasha was making her way back after hearing Wanda screaming for the boys to help.

Everyone was glaring at her when she walked into the lab. Bruce cleared his throat and brought their attention to him.

“Y/N is a bit weak since she’s just given birth along with the blood loss we found with her earlier. It’s better to keep her in bed after she wakes up.”

“Wait… What do you mean by given birth?”

“She delivered a stillborn baby Natasha. That’s why she was in the A&E and you had THE AUDACITY TO TELL HER YOU WERE BUSY WITH WORK!!!” Wanda shouted at Natasha. Everyone around was surprised that she dared to shout at her.

“SHE HAD TO GIVE BIRTH ALONE! WITHOUT ANY HELP, ANY SUPPORT!”

“I..I…”

“I’m ashamed of you.”

You started to stir when everyone left the room for you and Natasha.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

“Get out. I don’t want to see you.”

“Y/N-”

“I said get out. Get out, before I force them to take you out.”

You weren’t ready to face her yet, not when she left you alone when you needed her most.

#natasha x you #natasha x reader #natalia romanova #black widow 2021 #clint #wanda maximoff #miscarriage #my writing

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ohtobeleah · 2 years

Note

That video of Glen Powell playing with his nephew where he’s throwing him in the air. You CANT tell me after that Epilogue that Hangman wasn’t the fun uncle when he came to visit.

Are you talking about this one? Or even this one! Or this one because it’s my personal favourite. Special shout-out to @babyrooster thanks for the upload.

Because if those are any of the videos you’re talking about? Then yes. 100% Jake Seresin is always down 👏 to 👏 clown 👏 when it comes to your boys.

The Bradshaw resistance quickly becomes a home base for the rotating rag tag team of aviators you and Rooster saw as family. Jake Seresin and Robert Floyd being the two most frequent flyers. Always making time on whatever leave they had to visit, to catch up. To spend time with the boys who absolutely held their whole hearts. Nicholas and Thomas Bradshaw.

The two beautiful blonde haired, Heterochromia having ass ratbags. So much of their father and so much of you all at the same time. Some days you didn’t know how the tops of their little heads didn’t pop off.

“Oh your so having a girl—“ Hangman smirked from across the dinner table, Tom sitting on his lap as he played with his peas. “I just have a gut instinct.” Little Nick on yours as he drove his little toy plane over the small arch of your stomach. Already starting the show a heavy obsession with all things that could fly.

“My gut instinct tells me my husband has a weak pull out game.” Groaning, you took a sip of your water, five months along with your third child. “But yeah, it feels different this time, I haven’t been as sick.”

“Oof—“ Jake snickers as he bounced Tom on his knee. “You gonna let her talk about you like that Bradshaw—I wouldn’t take that if I were you.”

“And that’s why you’re ‘wife’ is half way across the world right now, Hangman.” Rooster whipped around from where he stood facing the sink in the the kitchen, his kiss the chef apron hugging his waist. Pointing a fork Hangman’s way. “My wife can talk to me and about me however she wants, I watched her birth my children man—free hall pass for life.” Rooster turned back to where he’d been cleaning the few bits and pieces after dinner. Jake couldn’t help but to laugh softly as he shook his head.

“Damn, I remember when you’re parents couldn’t even be in the same room without wanting to rip each other to pieces.” Cooing as he bounced Tom on his knee. The three year old giggling his infectious laugh as he tried to spoon his mushy peas into his mouth. Jake tickling his sides gently to keep the laughter going. “That’s right I know—your mama used to be so rude to uncle Jake, now look at her—such a big softy.”

“It’s called maturity.” Snapping back with a grin you moved Nick to your other knee. Jake gestured from across the table for you to hand him over, standing as you graciously accepted. He knew you were getting tired, he could see it in your eyes. The dark circles a little more prominent then usual.

“It’s called being lame, Chaos.” Carefully helping guide Nick down ad you placed him on Jakes other knee. Tom instantly sharing his mushy peas with his twin brother.

“Uh, you can’t call me that anyone—“ wiggling your finger. “I’m retired.”

“You’re always gonna be Chaos to me, you can’t not be! I have your god damn name tattooed on my body forever!” The small calligraphy Chaos that hid behind Jakes right ear would serve as a timeless reminder of the strength you showed, the determination that never wavered and the love you carried. Jakes drunken mind thought that having your call sign permanently tattooed would hopefully give him just an once of your courage.

“That’s your dumbass fault—“ Bradley chuckled as he made his way over, fully immersing himself into the conversation as he sat down at the table beside Hangman—sliding a cold beer his way.

“Much appreciated pops—“ Jake winked Roosters way, fatherhood really did suit him.

“Bet you didn’t think she’d discharge huh.”

“Still can’t believe you gave it up.” Holding your boys, the boys who melted his whole heart, Jake sent you a soft smile. He knew why you did what you did, he just couldn’t come to terms with it.

“Hey that’s what happens when I’m left to my own devices, they come with prices and vices and suddenly I end up in crisis and the next thing you know is I’m Ex Navy.” Your hands fell to your swollen stomach, your baby girl kicking you just as much as you kicked yourself sometimes for letting go of your career in favour of being a mum. You knew you could have done both, but something inside you told you that you needed to be around for the long haul. “Anyway, are you sure you’re good for tomorrow?”

“Absolutely don’t even stress.” Jake held your boys in his arms as Rooster stepped in to help Tom actual eat his peas and not just play with them. Spooning them up and into his mouth. “We’re gonna have a great day, just the bros hanging out, isn’t that right boys?”

“They’re like a year and a half man, they don’t talk very much.” Rooster beamed as he dabbed the mush around Toms mouth away. “But thanks for babysitting man, we really do appreciate it.” Whenever Jake was over, crashing in the spare room while stateside—he’d offer his baby sitting services. Especially now more then ever with a third on the way, some alone time without the boys probably came few and far between.

“It’s not a problem, honestly.” And it really wasn’t. If anything Jake actually enjoyed playing babysitter, a little more than he would have liked to admit. He had a reputation to uphold, but for your children he’d do anything. He’d always be there, and he always was.

Then next morning, Jake was up and about the house before the ass crack of dawn. His feet padding again hardwood flooring as he ran his hands through his hair. Yawning—in search of the fresh coffee Rooster had left in the pot after he’d been up with a restless Nick.

“Sleep well?” Rooster asked as he held Nick on his hip. The tot had cried himself back to sleep. The bottle of breastmilk Rooster had defrosted still sitting on the counters as Hangman poured his cup.

“God your kids have a mean set of lungs.” Turning to lean on the counter as he sighed. “Honestly at one point I thought for sure one of them was being sliced and diced.” Bradley just held his little boy in his arms. Rocking his hips side to side.

“Nicks been having some night terrors lately, not sure what’s causing it but Sarah said Chaos used to get them as a kid, guess it’s just hereditary?” Rooster cooed as he watched Jake frown, sipping his coffee like it was the elixir of life.

“Why do you get to call her that?”

“Call who what?”

“Y/n, you called her Chaos—“

“Oh, well yeah I guess it’s just gonna be a hard habit to break.” And it was. Rooster never stopped, no matter how many times you told him to. And Jake was no better.

“Now are you sure you’ll call if there’s any drama?” You asked as you packed a few extra diapers into the diaper bag. Rooster had his phone out recoding Jake as he threw little Tom into the air a few times before placing him on his hip. Reaching out for his glasses shortly after he settled in on uncle Jakes hip. “Because we’re not going too far, just to the day spa about twenty minutes away.”

“Choas—I promise you’re children are safe with me. We’ll be fine.”

“Okay—“

“I mean I’m hoping that the straps on the super hornets go a little tighter but—“ Slapping his chest with the back of your hand, a thud rang loud. Jake beamed your way as he brought you in for a side hug. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding—F-14 Tomcat?”

“It’s not funny!” Mumbling into Jakes side as you handed your twins over for the day. “They won’t be as dumb as us.” Rooster had to hold back his laughter, he knew there was no way his sons wouldn’t follow in his footsteps. He’d followed his dad and so had you, what would change the tradition.

“Well, regardless—we’re gonna have a great day.” Jake leaned over to pick the strap of the dipper bag up. Throwing it over his shoulder as he scooped up Nick—both tots on his hips respectfully. “Because I’m determined to be a the cool uncle.”

****~****~****~****~****~****~****~****~****~****

Read The Chaos Series Here

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#chaos // bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun bradley bradshaw #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman x reader #top gun hangman

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