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eldritch-spouse · 6 months

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You are running naked in the Jungle, searching frantically.

You look and you see another human, the first one you've seen in months and you run towards them.

“Thank God! Listen, we need to get out of here immediately, it's dangerous! Do you know the way out? Back to civilization?”

You feel a tentacle around your ankles

[Months? Couldn't be me, I'd just die. Let's downsize that to a week. Fem reader.]

TW: Reader has a self-loathing inner monologue; Reader is in a bad place mentally; Dubcon to full consent.

It was a stupid idea.

You knew that when you started it. So did everyone that tried to convince you otherwise. But common sense isn't something that could have stopped someone like you, someone who was ill enough to think taking a break from life in the middle of buttfuck nowhere would work out.

You didn't even have any sort of experience in this type of thing. Neither did you seek any kind of useful tips.

You just wanted to escape.

And you did, literally, into a forested nightmare that you got lost in not even hours after your arrival.

You just wish you could find your car, you just wish you could find somewhere warm and comforting to sleep in.

It's been days. Probably a week by now. Your stuff all disappeared, somehow. You swear you're not tripping, it all just vanished! Your phone, your bag, your keys...

Your back hurts, the nights are cold and humid and you're sure you're getting sick by now. Clean water would be a godsend, you've been drinking and cleaning yourself with some questionable-looking sources for a while. Not to mention you can't feed yourself properly, and you certainly don't know how to hunt.

Not that there's much to hunt. Every time you think you hear a peep, there's a brush of foliage and silence dominates seconds later.

You're going to die.

A horrifying reminder that has your chest pounding painfully and sweat glistening on your forehead.

You don't want to die.

But the modern human wasn't born for the wilderness, and you can only stand being clothed for a little longer before the sensation of being dirty has you clawing the skin off your body.

It was a fucking miracle that you managed to get a small fire going.

Finally.

You can heat up that fish you caught earlier.

If it's still good. Is... This is safe to eat, right?

You lean to sniff at the leaf-wrapped catch.

Eh. You can stomach it...

God, you're starving.

One thing that's been bugging you for a while is how... Deserted this whole place feels.

You're no wildlife expert, but isn't this kind of location supposed to be brimming with animals? Why is it that, everywhere you go, it's mostly just you and insects bumbling around?

Shouldn't there be some mammals here? Some birds? Maybe a squirrel or a snake... Aren't there predators you'd have to worry about in this kind of scenario?

Ironically, being alone makes you feel even more stressed out than if you were constantly surrounded by wild animals.

You huddle closer to the small fire.

Alone.

But always so on edge.

Always getting that tingling feeling crawling up your spine.

The one that screams- Look, look behind you! You're in danger!

The phantom feeling of something hovering behind your neck, goosebumps that hardly fade every time you do turn around to check and find nothing.

Is this a normal amount of paranoia for your situation? Is this your brain trying to cope with the fact that you haven't seen much wildlife so far?

Or is there something watching you from beyond the trees?

Something stalking.

A persistence predator, coming and going, to check on its latest prey.

Oh, and what a catch you are. Big and juicy compared to the things that probably roam this place -Roamed, more like...

Have you wandered into the territory of something that'll inevitably snap its jaws around your neck?

...

Just eat the fucking fish already.

Food.

Focus on the present.

The smell starts to hit your nose. Salt, oh what you wouldn't do for some simple salt. How do people get salt?

You're glad you got some berries along the way too, because this fish is probably going to taste like ass. You're sure they aren't poisonous or anything of the sort. If they are, then you've been eating them for the past few days so honestly you could keel over at any moment.

You'll see.

Once the fish has roasted enough where it's likely safe to consume, you peel it open messily and start munching indiscriminately, ravenous.

It's... Well, it's sustenance.

It's about the most nutritious thing you've eaten since you got here.

This survival thing is harder than the fake actors on TV make it seem.

A sudden crack of a branch has you pausing mid-chew.

You truly feel like a deer when your head snaps up and you stand very still to listen for a follow-up.

Nothing.

Tired eyes strain, trying to make sense of a darkened blob in the distance.

Huh.

What the fuck is that thing?

Tall.

Two legs...

Arms?!

Shit- Could it be?!

That can't be possible, someone else roaming around this maddening forest. Is that a sign that you're somehow getting closer to civilization? That you're making it out by sheer luck? What cosmic force could be on your side this time? Maybe they just live here, like some kind of off-grid retired agent- Okay, you've been watching too many movies.

Without stopping to think twice about frankly important concerns regarding this sudden development, you place the cooked fish down on the leaf it was previously wrapped in and start scooting forward towards the silhouette you saw.

That build can only belong to a man. Well, you assume as much anyway. It's hard to spot more from here, with the foliage covering their form.

" H- Hey... "

You haven't used your voice in a hot minute. Some part of you almost doesn't recognize it. A healthy dose of paranoia stops you from brushing aside the obstacles and facing this person.

But you need to at least try, right?

The worst that can happen is that you really are hallucinating for some reason or another.

With a surge of bravery, but mostly desperation, you push all the branches and greenery away to run towards this person, opening your mouth to greet them, to beg for help, ask for new clothes or just something cooked!

" Hey! Please, I need your... Help? "

Nothing.

There's no one.

But that doesn't make sense, you clearly saw a silhouette, someone was there! You didn't even have to run that far, how could it be that you already lost sight of them? That they could get away so silently?

No. Everything's wrong.

Before you know it, your vision is blurring and your face heats as tears stain your cheeks.

Why... Why would your mind fuck with you like this? Going from a shining shred of hope to complete despair in seconds has you screaming inside.

Why is this happening to you?

Are you really about to die in a stupid fucking patch of nothing just because you can't deal with the stress in your life like a normal person? Just because you made one bad decision when everything was weighing heavy on your conscience? Are you really so incompetent and so pointless as a human that this is how your story ends?

Anger and regret blind you to everything, fingers course through your knotted hair as you sob and tug, having no way to calm yourself and nothing to unleash your tension onto.

The moment you try to stomp your foot in a petulant act, you find it rooted to the ground. It takes a couple more insistent tugs upward for you to realize that something is coiled around it, keeping it firmly planted.

The train wreck of emotions and bile of self-hating thoughts takes a backseat, goosebumps pricking your skin from tip of the head to your very toes. The first thing you think of is some kind of snake, eyes bulging behind digits.

You look down frantically, shaking, but in spite of the sky being clear, all you see is this reddish mass, with neither end nor beginning. What... What the fuck is it?!

The thing tightens around your ankle, starting to slide up the length of your right leg, up to your knee. And immediately, you panic, kicking and shrieking, achieving absolutely nothing and getting promptly tugged to the ground.

Yeah.

Maybe freaking out isn't the best bet for your survival here.

Twigs and dirt get on your face, it takes some coughing and swiping to finally clear your field of view. But honestly...

You almost wish you hadn't.

Curved over your prone figure, staring down, is a creature you have never seen before.

Bipedal and quite large, like the silhouette you had glimpsed before, but so very far from human. The reddish coloration spanning the length of that bizarre body makes him -Because, again, you can only assume that is a male- Look as if he's made of flesh quickly molded together to imitate the figure of a human. What initially made you think he was skinless soon turns into the realization that there was never room for skin anyway.

Because his body is quite literally comprised of what you can only call tentacles. Tendrils and coiling tissue that clings and organizes itself in the vague lie of an organism like yours.

From elbows to fingers and knees to feet, the tendrils become a lot more discernable, coiling and uncoiling while he watches curiously. The thing around your leg is one of said tendrils, coming from the mass forming his own. Along the length of its torso, sharp-toothed mouths form and shift, almost seeming to have a mind of their own as they scent the air and snap at nothing.

That head has got to be the most striking feature. It's an amalgamation of tentacles all wrapped around each other, leaving room for an incredibly sharp golden eye to fix you in place. This thing looks like it crawled out of a sleeping ocean, like the roots and vines of an ancient jungle came together to form a totally new an extension of themselves. He looks like he's been sculped from the guts of others yet also composed in a way your mind could never hope to grasp.

Somewhere between trying to determine if you're dealing with an animal or a person, you reach the conclusion that an animal wouldn't stare you down for this long.

An animal would take a couple of seconds to determine if you're prey or predator and act accordingly. He would have snapped your neck or suffocated you like a boa constrictor with those tentacles by now.

And yet, he just stares.

Like you're the strangest creature to ever grace the woods this thing probably calls a home. You're as freaky to him as he is to you, enough so that he seems out of depth on how to proceed.

You stare back.

This has got to be the monster that you saw back there. Watching you. Now that you think about it, maybe this was the reason you'd always have a tingling sensation reminding you that you're not alone. Because he was there all that time, stalking.

Plenty were the moments he could have dug your grave until now. It's strange that he hasn't. Because surely, he's seen how you're failing to adapt to this location. Every step you take, you're stumbling and getting pricked, hungry, thirsty, afraid, disoriented- You're a fish out of water and he could have ended that misery a long time ago.

Odd.

Neither of you move. It blinks, vertically. You blink too.

And then, it makes this chitter.

Wet, like a gargle, followed by some kind of rumbling as more of those tendrils that form his limbs unwind, explore.

They reach down towards your frame when he squats, and you stifle the urge to scream at the sight of them getting nearer. Because who knows what he's going to do...

They poke and prod, grabbing lightly at parts of you, wet yet not quite. Two coil around your arms, then elbows, then wrists.

Other strays squirm around your sides, unintentionally triggering a squirming reflex as you muffle helpless laughter.

The monster seems intrigued by the noise anyway, making his own vocalizations as if attempting to communicate with you.

Abruptly, there's a blur of movement and you're yanked into the air by the arms, shrieking in fear and pain.

Not for long, because more of his freaky, flowing appendages wind around your middlesection, hips and knees, pulling in different directions.

In seconds, mere moments, this being has you suspended in the air.

Immediately, your panicked mind is going places where it absolutely shouldn't.

He seems more relaxed now that you're restrained, that gaze becomes softer, clouded with curiosity. To be monitoring you this long, you don't doubt he has his own questions and intrigue regarding how you work.

When that hulking red mass walks towards you, anxiety prevents your mouth from staying shut.

" H- Hi? "

A sound not too different from the peep of a skittish bird.

One that causes him to cock his head in a brief pause, processing the noise, and returning it with his own light gurgle. One of the mouths on his figure gets the pitch right down to a T.

Soon, he's lacing a hand through your hair, grabbing it, manipulating the protrusion and stroking your head inquisitively. He squeezes and almost scritches at your scalp, reminding you of the way someone acts when spotting a particularly cute cat. Yes, hair is likely a mystery to this creature, you can kind of understand why it'd linger here.

But that doesn't change the fact that you're being patted like a pet by a strange, unknowable creature- And that's morbidly hilarious.

When your cheeks start to puff with laughter, his attention finally deviates. You can feel the tendrils that form every digit when he splays them across your face, tracing your eyebrows, playing with the tip of your nose and even trying to poke into your ears- Something he halts when you jerk away rapidly each time.

When he starts trying to put a digit in your mouth, he's a lot more careful, aware that you have teeth and can bite, even if yours are quite small and blunt compared to the ones he sports. He succeeds, because your strength is nothing compared to that of a monster of his size and nature. The digit he dips into your mouth rests there placidly for a couple of moments.

You aren't sure what to do. Biting is not a bright idea when you know this creature can probably easily dismember you in this position. He himself looks slightly lost, as if he put his finger in your mouth out of impulse mostly. A false sense of security begets your own curiosity.

Perhaps you're just insane already -That probably says a lot about your overall mental fortitude- But seeing another living being that behaves and looks vaguely like what you might call a person makes you feel calmer than you have since the beginning of all this. You know it's an irrational feeling, that you're not any safer than before, but it's a thread of comfort you desperately cling to.

And it's what allows you to look this thing in the eye while you experimentally lick his bizarre tendril-clump of a finger.

It was only a little flick.

But naturally, he felt it.

The monster rumbles something incomprehensible at you, leaning closer still to cast a shadow upon your front. In this position, he looms between your clothed legs, though seems mostly unaware of the lurid position he's got you in, fixated on your mouth.

The sensation of his digit unfolding into two separate thin tentacles is bizarre. You picture a human finger splitting in two and curse your brain. Said tentacles poke and wriggle, capturing your tongue between themselves.

Yes, that's probably the part of your body that most closely resembles the mass of prehensile tissue composing his own.

The touch has you drooling, saliva trying to break down something probably few to no humans have ever come in contact with. He tastes slimy yet slightly rugged in some areas, not something you'd write home about.

Reflex has your poor muscle squirming to be freed, but that only causes him to tighten the grasp upon it. And, surprisingly, to let out this humid noise that sounds far too much like a groan of delight for you to interpret it as anything else.

There's a pause from your part as you wonder, incredulously, if this thing just got turned on.

There's not much time to ponder, because that digit very quickly slips out, and as he examines the sheen of drool on it, something else steadily approaches your mouth.

Ah, you've graduated from finger to proper tentacle mouthfucking. Commendable.

Making light of the situation is about the least recommended course of action, but after what you've endured so far, you think you deserve to be a little, tiny bit, insane.

Apparently convinced that you won't try to harm him, the crimson monster wiggles that darkened appendage and taps it against your lips, seeming very interested in how this is unfolding.

You should not have opened your mouth.

But you did.

And he visibly brightened up.

The tendril wedges itself in without much hesitation, resting upon your tongue. Much thicker than his digit, your jaw has no choice but to stretch, and your lips wrap around it in a rather phallic, dirty image. You barely realize you're making an effort not to scrape your teeth on the appendage. Perhaps because the sensation of it is a tad spongy and remarkably similar to that of any standard manhood.

And, as if to give reason to your lewd comparison, he shudders at the warmth of your wet mouth, the thing pulsing within you.

While he mostly simply lets the extremity sit there motionlessly, you do explore, trying to lick around it out of morbid curiosity. He watches you avidly, but apparently, what really gets to this bizarre entity is feeling you suck down the saliva that pools in your cheeks, swallowing.

Suction. Because of course he'd enjoy that. What man doesn't?

That begs the question, is the thing in your mouth part of his genitals?

Again, thinking is a privilege you can't afford when that tentacle starts sliding down your throat experimentally. It doesn't take him long to trigger your gag reflex, a violent kick and curve forward from your part causing him to pull back quickly. But he continues to test the waters afterwards, probably seeking the sensation of your stressed throat muscles tightening around him.

Instinct takes over.

Because even if he seems truly out of his depth maneuvering a human body, he's curious and, if you had to guess, attracted to you. Enough to put sensitive things in your mouth, to fetishize that part of you. Hormones make things work, which means he soon realizes he can make repetitive back and forth motions to get friction.

And so, just like that, you're getting fucked in the mouth, inside the woods, by an eldritch abomination of a monster you might find in a cheaply made H. P Lovecraft rip-off.

It should not arouse you.

It should horrify you.

... But it doesn't.

Those reactions are missing, leaving you befuddled at your own enjoyment of the situation. Are you just happy to have someone around? Has it truly been so long since you received this type of attention that you don't mind if it comes from an entity of unknown origin who is clearly not civilized? Are you just a freak actively discovering new sides of your sexuality?

Who knows anymore.

All you know is that there's a wet noise ringing every time he thrusts that slimy thing into your mouth, that he's resorted to gripping your hips hard while making intense eye contact, that he growls and gurgles whenever you have enough control to suck at him. If you had to guess, it's his unwavering, lewd and fascinated observation of your face and lips that has you likely forming a wet spot on your poor pants.

You think your wanton squirming is subtle, but reality proves otherwise when the monster starts getting distracted, one of those pupils shifting to the rhythmic movement of your legs as you shamelessly seek friction. At first, he seems irritated, as if questioning why you'd want to leave when you'd been so docile so far.

Then it appears to click.

You can almost see it in his face, in spite of how inhuman it is, that eureka moment.

And the tendril in your mouth slows down to a crawl.

He starts pawing and pulling at your pants, but not aimlessly. Not at all. He's studied you, he knows what he's looking for, the button and the zipper. You pale a few shades, the only way this thing could know how to take pants off is if it saw you doing it, if it saw you relieving yourself or trying to bathe to avoid infections.

Just how many embarrassing moments did he catch?

Too many, probably.

Still, you're pleasantly surprised to see him so easily remove the garment, fluidly shifting the positions of his tendrils to avoid tangling the fabric in them. Your pants come off without a single blemish, aside from those they sustained previously. Is he removing them so carefully because he thinks you need them to survive or is he just being considerate?

Your underwear is treated the same way, he spares no extra thought to it, and only appears to pause once your pussy is exposed.

Usually, you'd feel self-conscious in this position. There's not a lot you can do to properly groom yourself without the simple privilege of soap and whatnot... But what does it matter here? As far as you know, for this monster, pussy is pussy regardless of it being shaved or bush-heavy, "perfumed" or au naturel.

And a soaked, needy hole is hard for a lonesome monster to ignore.

He looms closer to your womanhood, watching closely, gargling a string of vocalizations you still can't interpret, until another tentacle slithers into scene and slaps against your cunt.

No, literally.

The thing whips from mound to the bottom of your entrance, swiping up and down in a pace that has you seeing stars every time it flicks your clitoris and catches on a clenching entrance. To say your legs kick out occasionally from the intensity of the stimulus is no exaggeration, but he's quick to adapt his hold so you have no way of wiggling aside.

You don't know why it's doing that, but frankly, you don't care much, it just feels good. A racing heart and a heaving chest have you tipping your head back to moan against the thing stuffed in your mouth. You realize, a little belatedly, that he was probably mostly just trying to lube that appendage with your own arousal.

Your plump pussy still tingles when the assault stops on all sides, you strain to watch what he's doing, observing the monster evaluate the sheen now coating that wriggling extremity.

He's less careful than before now, a product of excitement no doubt, parking the somewhat thicker length at your entrance and pushing in tentatively for only a couple of moments before ramming a decent chunk of that tendril into your cunt.

Eyes bulging, you spit out a beastial sound that startles the monster, panting as you try to get used to the sudden stretch. He's reached a depth within you no one else has found before, and the pressure is such so that you've been robbed of the ability to speak.

He shouldn't be that far in you.

You may come from extremely distinct backgrounds, but some things are vastly universal, like the facial expression of pain. Which, credit where credit is due, he picks up on relatively fast. The moment the entity removes a good chunk of its length, you sigh and sag in momentous relief. That's a lot better. You still feel as if you're being stuffed to the brim, but there's no longer that stabbing pain.

He understands what he did wrong after a couple of still moments and some bizarre palping sensation from your insides.

Much like the previous tendril in your mouth, this one too starts to thrust back and forth, with more care now, experimenting with differing speeds and curling in various ways as he gets closer and closer to watch how you react.

You're no researcher, but maybe if the mounting pleasure wasn't swimming to your head and making it very very hard to think coherently right now, you'd be fascinated with the way this monster is being so thorough in his examination of you, wanting to learn what makes you tick in every way, what has you choking out noises and rolling your eyes.

So intense is the heat rushing through your body from his repeated, filthy motions that you hardly notice anything happening until his all-seeing eye is almost glued to your face. The tips of the tentacles that make up his rather disturbing head unfurl and appear to drip downwards, clinging to the sides of your face so he can fix it in place, observe every detail as soon as you part your mouth to moan and gasp and babble nonsense. Each noise you make is eagerly eaten up, he tries to mimic the same motions that make you squeal as if begging for more of them.

There's no time to warn or even shriek about it, your orgasm barrels its way down your body with the intensity of a bullet, curving you in its tentacles, a breathless "oh" being all you can offer as your abdominal muscles contract and you squeeze the life out of the tendril inside you, making a mess that drips to the ground between you two.

It may not have been easy to spot in that pleasured trance, but the monster halted to watch it all unfold, mesmerized. Retracting to test the nature of the new slick now grossly painting you.

By the time you're done riding the high of your climax, you've been shifted again, this time a little lower, and you find the entity staring down to the spot where your core meets something that wasn't there before.

You'll admit you didn't have the time to properly process the full extent of his appearance when he first appeared before your stunned self. Now you're unsure if this monster had some kind of pelvic pouch, or if he merely unfolded two more tendrils out of his mass where one would expect a dick to be.

The two appendages wriggle and roll impatiently, seeking each other before parting in search of heat, of wetness, slapping against your belly and thighs. They may not look like it, but you can only guess those are his cocks. And he's considering something quietly.

It's hard to tell what he's thinking right now, the communication barrier doesn't help. Maybe he worries that the length of them will hurt you. Perhaps he wonders if he can impregnate you this way. It could just be that he thinks perhaps mating with a strange human is not a good idea, but the way those things are spreading a coat of thick precum on your skin says otherwise.

Instead of letting his stall further, a small hand reaches down to feather over the tip of one of those members, immediately getting captured and pulled at in the process. His figure rattles, hips offering a useless piston before his head snaps back up to watch you.

" ... Try putting one in. "

You murmur, knowing damn well it can't understand a single word.

He looks back down, peels back to spread your cuntlips invitingly, then seems to make up his mind, allowing the very tips of both squirming cocks to connect with your entrance. They've found warmth and they're desperate to worm in, stretching and flirting with your walls.

You grin incredulously, already trying to guess what it'll feel like, gasping as soon as he leans forward and allows more exploration. The first hint of a burn arrives as he rumbles in delight-

But a branch snaps in the distance.

And the moment is ruined because he halts immediately, your cry of frustration ignored entirely.

His body twists in an unnatural way so he can glance behind, inhuman eye seeing through greenery and undoubtedly spotting something off.

In the tense quiet that has now settled, even you pick up on the faraway mumbles of what must be people.

Eyes widening, snapping out of this episode, you begin to squirm earnestly now, wanting to see them, to find a way back, to go home!

Finally, people came looking for you!

The monster snaps back around, making you realize how truly fucked you are in these circumstances. Something flashes in that gaze, a hint of contempt, of hurt maybe.

Something too human to fall upon such a nightmarish face.

You can only scream as more tendrils dart in lightening speeds to cocoon you inside them. That single noise being all that escapes before you're forcibly gagged and physically thrown over the monster's shoulder.

His molding body swings from tree to tree in a blur of movement, taking you God knows where...

And leaving your saviors in the dust.

#Sever oc #terato tag #monsterfucker #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #monster boyfriend #tentacle monster #monster x reader #monster x you #minors dni #not sfw

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brainmuncher · 24 days

Text

Danny would like to preface that this was entirely Vlad's fault. The fruitloop had made another harebrained scheme to kill off his dad and marry his mom… nothing new. What also wasn’t new was the three vultures in fez hats that he had to chase across the Nasty Burger’s parking lot after dismantling the whole plan. Vlad was a fruitloop after all so it only made sense that he’d do the same thing over and over and actually expect a different result.

What was new was the gun that Vlad had appeared with during the chase. He looked pissed that Danny had gotten away again and wasn’t aiming well. Unfortunately, Danny had Fenton luck so he eventually got hit by whatever the gun was firing. One of the vultures also got stuck in one of the stray blasts so he didn’t feel too bad about it.

It turns out it was shooting some sticky substance that was impossible to phase through. Vlad had walked over, said some eye roll worthy monologue, and cut the stuck vulture out with a concentrated ecto blast. He’d just been about to probably kidnap Danny for the millionth time when there was a screech of a van. A dozen or so GIW agents flooded the area and Vlad with the vultures made a run for it… leaving Danny behind. Because of the mysterious goo still holding him in place, he was an easy target for the GIW to “arrest”.

That's how he found himself thrown in the back of a white van in what could only be described as a dog cage, bundled with all sorts of restraints. His arms were pulled behind his back, his legs tied together, an actual muzzle on his face, and an extremely uncomfortable collar was on his neck. To put it lightly, Danny was not amused.

Before the doors had shut he heard the agents talking about transporting him to one of their facilities. Based on how much driving they had already done, it wasn’t a local one. Thankfully, Tucker and Sam have his ecto-signature, so they should be able to find him. It was just a matter of them getting a quick enough transport. They might end up calling Jazz to help which will be a huge pain later. No, he did not feel traumatized Jazz, this was more of an unfortunate field trip with the GIW than anything. Then again she was probably going to complain that he wasn’t taking things seriously again if he said that.

While thinking of ways he was going to try and escape his sister's overprotective meddling, the van came to a screeching halt. The stop was so sudden that he hit his head on the back of the cage. Grimacing at the injury, that was honestly pretty mild but he was feeling petty, he tried to listen to why they’d stopped. He could faintly hear the sounds of fighting outside the van. At first, he thought that he’d been found quicker than he thought, but then he heard the first gunshot.

An actual gunshot.

Now Danny knew that he wasn’t in Amity anymore, that point had long since passed, but hearing that was like a bucket of ice water. He’d only heard guns on TV or from those soldier guys at the parade before everything got replaced with ecto-guns. But something about hearing one again after so many years reminded him that he wasn’t home anymore. He didn’t even know where he was.

Despite having already tried to escape when they first put the restraints on, Danny once again began struggling to get out. The best start would be freeing his hands so he could at least see if he could find a weak point. He started to try and get his hands out in front of his chest but quickly found that it was easier said than done. Because of the way his hands were encapsulated in the cuffs and only ended at the lower wrist, he was finding it very hard to stretch far enough to get his arms underneath him. His shoulders ached as he pushed them past their limit, but another set of gunshots gave him the boost he needed to ignore it. Finally, he got his arms out from underneath him.

Before he could even think to celebrate, the doors to the van opened up. He reflexively used his arms to block the light from the outside. Once he blinked away the blinding change of light, he found himself blinking at a completely baffled person in a black ski mask.

“Johnny?” The person called out, turning away from Danny to presumably talk to someone outside the door. “I thought you said this was a truck full of money. There’s just some kid back here!”

Despite the danger he was in, Danny couldn’t help the indignation rise in him at being called a kid. He was sixteen for Pete's sake! He was firmly past the ‘kid’ stage and now in the ‘little shit’ age of his life. There’s a clear difference.

“What the hell are you talking about? This thing was scheduled to be guarded and transported just like any ol’ money transport. If you’re fucking with me-” The second person, who was wearing a blue ski mask, and man Danny didn’t know that they came in different colors how neat, paused after seeing him. “What the hell is this.”

Both of the men were just staring at Danny, who was now questioning just what was happening.

“You don’t think Flash set this up do you?” The one in the black mask asked, making the other one whirl to look at him like he asked if the moon was made of cheese.

“This is Keystone, not Gotham. Flash wouldn’t even consider something like this. This is something else entirely,” The person in the blue mask sighed, giving a sidelong look at Danny. “I say we bounce before Flash gets here. This one is a bust.”

The one in the black mask stopped the other one before they could get too far. Looking over their shoulder at Danny they gestured in his direction.

“Did you see how many guys they had guarding him? I think we could still make a good penny selling him,”

An uncomfortable feeling crawled up Danny’s spine. It was one that Vlad often made him feel when he was trying to get him to ‘denounce his father’. Objectified, Sam had once complained. She described that it was something she often felt whenever her parents forced her into some pink monstrosity. This somehow felt much more dangerous than when Vlad did it. Maybe it was the fact that Danny didn’t know what would happen, unlike with Vlad. Completely separated from his usual support and without a clue of what would happen, the threat loomed more fiercely than Danny was used to.

He started to subtly check the bands restricting his hands. There wasn’t any keyhole are keypad to open them, which meant there was probably a remote that one of the agents has… or had if they had been killed.

Suddenly one of the guys let out a startled cry that cut off. The other one disappeared, only for something to hit the truck a moment later.

“You’d think after taking over a van they wouldn’t just stand around in the street. It’s like they wanted to get caught,” A completely new voice joked.

With both guys gone, Danny could now clearly see the outside world. It was late, almost sunset outside. The buildings were completely unrecognizable. There were even some really tall buildings further in. He was in an actual city… Keystone if he remembers right.

“Let’s see what you were after,” The voice continues and steps in front of the open doors.

If not for the muzzle, Danny’s jaw would’ve dropped. This GIW field trip was turning into one hell of a time.

“Whoa hey, are you alright?” The Flash asked, already climbing inside the van to help.

At this point, this mind as well happen.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #I have such a soft spot for the flash can you tell? lmao #Feel free to continue #I really had no plans further than this #this was just a little drabble that I had stuck in my head

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navybrat817 · 8 months

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Soak in the Tub

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You want to relax in the bathtub with Bucky. He wants to make you feel good.

Word Count: Over 1.9k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, fingering, implied unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, inner monologue, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: My first Bucky Barnes Smut Menu fic of 2024, courtesy of @ellemj, and it belongs to Stud and Smartie, thanks to a sweet nonnie's inspiration. Crossing off roommate and fingering. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“Take a bath with me, Stud.”

Bucky sat in his chair with a book in hand as you walked by in your robe. You glanced behind you just in time to see him look up from the page and sweep his gaze over your body. “Was that a request or an order?” He asked, placing the bookmark in-between the pages.

You raised an eyebrow as you turned back toward him. “Let’s call it an order in the form of a request,” you teased, putting a hand on your hip when he pretended to consider it. “Come on. Please?”

It was a quiet afternoon and the two of you had nowhere to be. As much as you didn't want to interrupt his reading, you finished the puzzle you were working on earlier and wanted just a bit of attention. Not much, but some.

And as soon as you finished soaking in the tub, he could go right back to reading.

He chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “And why are you heading toward my bathroom and not yours?”

You loosened the tie on your robe enough to expose some of your skin, your heart pounding against your ribcage when his eyes followed the motion. You both knew he was going to join you. “Because your bathroom has the bigger tub,” you reminded him. It was only fair that he got the luxurious bathtub since the apartment was his long before you moved in. “And we both know you love the oil I use.”

“That’s our little secret, Smartie.” Bucky set the book aside and pushed himself to his feet. It was your turn to stare as he stretched, the bottom of his shirt riding up to expose the top of his underwear and just enough of his chiseled abs that your brain began to shut down and reboot. “Should I take my shirt off for you so you can see more of me?”

Fucking duh.

You blinked rapidly and felt your cheeks heat up when he smirked, but you refused to feel shame that he caught you staring. You had every right to look at the gorgeous specimen that was your roommate and lover. Considering he looked at you as if he could swallow you whole at any given moment, it was only fair to return the favor.

“I want you to take everything off. I’ll start,” you said, taking a breath before you pushed the robe from your shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

As it pooled at your feet, you saw nothing but love and desire in his azure eyes. “Fuck,” he whispered, your confidence soaring when you heard his metal fingers curl.

You fought the urge to grip his long hair and drag him in for a deep kiss. If you did, you wouldn't make it to the bathtub and you really wanted a soak. “You can join me when you pick your jaw up off the floor,” you smiled, turning and walking away with a sway of your hips.

You exhaled when you got to his bathroom, your legs a little wobbly and an ache growing between your legs. It wouldn't be long until Bucky joined you, so you went right to the tub and turned the water on. You tested it with your fingers before you added the oil, inhaling the scent with a hum.

“Took me a minute to pick my jaw up,” Bucky said from behind you as you straightened up and spun around. “You're just too beautiful.”

You somehow managed not to preen from his compliment or collapse when you stared his muscular chest and abdomen, his clothes long gone. You took an extra second to admire the naked man in front of you. He heard from you more than once that he had the body of a god, one to worship and die for. His thick cock only made your knees weaken more as you glanced down.

Fuck, I want it in my pussy. In my mouth. Just give it to me.

But beneath the gorgeous package, Bucky was stunning because he was the best man you knew. No one affected you the way he did. You suspected no matter how long you were together that it would always be that way.

“So, you had me slack jawed and now I render you speechless,” he winked, brushing his body against yours as he moved close to the tub. “We’re quite the pair.”

“Yeah, we are,” you smiled, your heart swelling before he turned and gave you a chance to check out his backside.

Would he fault me if I bit one of his cheeks?

Bucky stepped into the tub with a sigh and slowly sank down, nodding for you to join him as he spread his massive thighs. You let out a moan of appreciation as you got in and sat down between his legs. As large as he was, there was enough space that the two of you could relax together.

Whatever home the two of you eventually moved into or had built would have to have a nice soaker tub.

“We really are quite the pair,” he told you, bringing another smile to your face. “I’m keeping you forever.”

And ever.

“I’m keeping you, too.”

As he wrapped his arms around you to pull you back against him, you were happy to sit there in comfortable silence. You cherished the conversations you had, but also adored the moments like this when you said nothing at all. Where you could just hold each other and feel secure and connected.

That's love.

Bucky used his foot to turn the water once it was high enough and put some soap in the nearby washcloth, drawing a gasp from you when he brought it to your inner thigh.

“You do know I can wash myself,” you teased, but didn't stop him from moving it along your leg.

“I know you can,” he said, your stomach flipping as his hand moved higher. It was a completely innocent gesture, but he could make anything sinful. “But I like doing these kinds of things for you.”

The unwavering sincerity in his tone made your heart melt. “Thank you.”

He switched to your other leg as your body relaxed more, your thighs parting without him needing to ask. Your body was completely in tune with him. And it was nice to have someone who wanted to take care of you.

“So, was there any particular reason why you wanted to have a bath together?” He asked against your skin, his hot breath making you shiver and tilt your head slightly.

“Just wanted you to relax with me,” you replied, a whimper slipping out as his lips moved delicately along your neck. Your eyes fluttered, thankful that you were sitting since you felt weak in the knees.

Bucky made a sound like he didn't quite believe you. “Maybe you did, but I also think you wanted me in here so I could see you naked,” he said, dropping the washcloth into the water before his hand moved up your trembling thigh again. He placed a soft kiss beneath your ear when he added in a low voice, “And feel how wet you are.”

Your breath caught as you looked between your legs in time to see his large hand cup your mound. You jutted your hips up in the hope to get some friction and he took mercy on you by brushing a finger along your folds. “I’m always wet for you, Bucky,” you whispered, gasping when he teased your entrance. “Feel me.”

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder with a groan when he pushed a thick finger inside, his palm pressing against your clit. “I feel you,” he rasped when he slid another finger in. “Do you know how good it makes me feel knowing how much you want me?” He asked, brushing his metal hand over your breasts, taking a moment to tease your hardened nipples and send a ripple of pleasure through you. “Feels so fucking good.”

The fact that he can get that hand wet and still… Oh, fuck. Right there.

“How could I not want you? I want you so badly,” you moaned, the water splashing around you gently when you bucked your hips. “I want your big, fat cock inside me. Please,” you begged, surprising you with how easily the dirty words tumbled out.

“Jesus fuck. You're killing me,” he grunted, his fingers thrusting and lightly curling inside of your soaked pussy as his other hand slid to your neck. “Telling me you need to relax when you need me to fuck you.”

Both. I need both things.

You whined when you felt his cock press against the curve of your ass. “Please. Fuck me, fuck me,” you chanted, your walls tightening around the thick digits as they pushed in deeper.

He nearly growled when he gripped your chin and turned your head toward his, devouring your mouth. You encouraged him to deepen the kiss as you parted your lips and let him slip his tongue inside. The taste of him was intoxicating. You wanted to get drunk on him.

“Come on my fingers first,” he whispered against your lips when he pulled away. You were unable to keep from whimpering when he circled his palm against your clit, heat radiating from your core. “Come on, pretty girl. Show me how badly you want my cock.”

You reached back to grip his hair when your orgasm hit you hard and fast, your other hand holding his arm as your cries bounced off the walls. His fingers stretched and rubbed you through it, your toes curling and eyes slipping shut. His lips touched your temple when your legs shook, swept away by his desire.

“That’s it. Get my fingers wet. So fucking beautiful,” he praised before you turned your head again and sought out his lips, your heart racing as you came down. His fingers didn't stop until you whined into his mouth, your breathing heavy when your head fell back.

“Did I…” you smiled with hazy eyes as he carefully slipped his fingers out of your quivering hole. “Earn your cock?”

Bucky chuckled as he helped you sit up, his hands gently caressing your arms like he just had to touch you. “More than earned it. And we can relax some more after I finish inside you.”

You trembled all over again. “Even if we get water all over the floor?” You asked, letting him turn you to face him.

His piercing blue eyes bore into yours and a swirl of emotions hit you as you held his face in your hands. He made you comfortable and so at ease with yourself. He was your friend as much as he was your lover. He also made you feel desired.

Most importantly, he made you feel loved.

“We can flood the whole fucking apartment for all I care,” he smiled, stealing the breath from your lungs when he pulled you in for a kiss.

The water was cold by the time Bucky was done with you, which gave him all the more reason to hold you after he helped dry you off. He even put your head in his lap so he could keep you close as he finished reading the recent chapter of his book. Alpine and Soot came out to keep you company, too. It was the perfect afternoon.

All thanks to Stud and his deluxe bathtub.

Oh, these two. 🥰 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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regal-bones · 14 days

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SWORDTEMBER DAY 6: ENTANGLED

The Red Eye of the Cosmos, of galactic prophecy and some stuff that got caught on it when it was in my tote bag ⭐️💀 A distant echo of thunder rolls over the Infinite Plains. There, in the distance, a speck of blue light stares you down. The so-called “hero”, a name chosen by the feeble Uprising. You spit on the ground, and watch as the saliva sizzles to steam on the hot rock below. Do they not know that under your watchful eye, the galaxy will flourish? That this Uprising sows nothing but chaos and contempt through your perfect, unified kingdom? The speck of blue grows closer, a bright blade illuminated in the dust storm. They only listen to one language - one of burnt flesh, cauterised muscle, and clashing sabers. Wait, you did remember your saber right?? You put your hand to your belt and feel your heart skip a beat as you notice it’s absence at its sheathe. You do a little emergency pat down of your outfit before you remember how you spilt that sauce on the sheathe - the sticky red one - and that it’s back at home drying from the wash. That means… The saber, you sense its presence. It’s in your little tote bag, aaah, okay. You reach in and feel many things in the bag, your phone, water bottle. There’s so many old receipts and bus tickets in here why don’t you just throw them away, and, no way, there’s a rice crispies square in here. How did you forget about that? That’s a little mid afternoon pick me up is what that is. This is such a small bag how could you lose an entire energy saber there’s only so m- there it is! You pull it up and grimace. It’s all tangled in your headphones and - oh my god no it’s your embarrassing pink hair bobble with the knock off plastic sanrio charm. Your keys are caught up in the whole thing too, the key ring is snagged on the wires of the saber, oh my god this sucks. This sucks absolute ass. You're about to duel for the fate of the galaxy and, yeah, these headphones are really stuck on there, huh. You’re gonna have to unknot them before you can even begin to untangle the rest of this. There’s no time, you’re just gonna have to own it. This is your vibe now. You feel your face flush hot red as the hero begins his monologue, while side eyeing your bedazzled blade. You shift your stance, ready to strike, and take solace in the fact that least nobody will be left to tell this story.

A silly one for this prompt :3c featuring real life accounts of what’s in my bag

Yesterday’s sword!

You can support me on Patreon for £1 and help me make stuff like this!

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firesnap · 9 months

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I'm sorry I saw this tweet and didn't have enough room to scream on my priv.

Dream literally did nothing other than suggest blowing up L'Manberg during the Revolution until Tommy's exile. And look at how that went. After Tommy's disc finale he sat and rotted in a prison, not answering people, and existed ENTIRELY as a plot device people had to drag him to do every few months.

LITERALLY THAT'S ONE OF THE WORST PARTS OF THE SERVER. He took up being the big bad, then didn't answer people and locked himself in a prison and stalled lore and delayed things and just fucking sucked. And his important role in most people's lore could have easily been replaced by a cardboard cutout after exile ended.

BBH paid for the server. People were already getting bored as fuck when Wilbur joined. Do people seriously forget how quickly vanilla Minecraft servers died back then? Literally the introduction of L'Manberg gave people something to do other than walking up the same wooden path over and over.

Bait used to be believable. I'm sorry if you think that guy was a good actor you literally never watched Wilbur or Charlie or Quackity. I never cared for Techno's 4th wall breaks, but you can't compare a single monologue Drm made to ANY of Techno's. The amount of crazy good and memorable lines everyone else had in comparison is hilarious. He wasn't even the best actor on the Dteam and one of those dude's slept through the whole story.

THE PRISON WAS THE WORST ARC THE SERVER HAD AND WAS AN EYESORE TO LOOK UPON

Fuck that guy. He wanted to be the villain and then would fucking retcon and change shit to make sure his guy never lost. Even when the story would try to frame something as a loss for him his ass would come back months later and go UM ACTUALLY like he's the fucking JK Rowling of Minecraft Roleplay.

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thewanderingkaya · 2 months

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when gentle meets calloused .

pairing: wriothesley x reader

summary: in which wriothesley wonders what’s so hypnotic about his hands (fluff + teensy bit of angst)

wordcount: 800

a/n: i love wriothesley and i love hands , why not combine the two? but seriously calloused and ruggedised arms and hands have me on the floor, especially if wrio is a boxer and has a backstory. g/n reader , a teeeeeeeny bit of wrio’s backstory , 2nd person (kinda omniscient) , lowercase on purpose , dividers : rookthornsartistry

“did it hurt?” your hands trail over wriothesley's arms, fingers coming to trace the imperfections that littered his forearms. his bandages discarded which allowed you to have a clear view of his arms. strong biceps, he did nothing to stop you, only turning his head sheepishly.

as you lay idly on a small blanket splayed onto the grass, a breeze drifts, tousling yours and wrio’s hair. his eyes met yours as you looked up at him, awaiting his answer.

“well.. of course it did,” his gaze drifted to his hands then back to you, he tagged on, “you get used to it after a while.”

you hummed, your head rested on his shoulder. running you whole palm against his fore arm. you could feel wriothesley heat up, even without looking, you knew he was flushing. dry, his arm felt — not dry like sandpaper, but in a way more.. hardened — a contrast to your soft touch.

wriothesley shivers as you trace a deep scar that hugged along the underside of his forearm, running down from his wrist all the way to the inside of his elbow. your smooth hands were so different compared to his rough and hardened hold, something that, even to this day, wriothesley always seems to be amazed at. you studied the mark, discovering that inside the scars, there seems to always be even more cuts and scrapes near the main body. who knew, something so brute could be so intricate at the same time.

these moments.. where you could study others, every blemish had a story. and with wriothesley, you knew that each scar would have a story, each scar contributed to the man you have come to love today. you treasured it..

while you cherished his imperfections, wriothesley only saw them as such flaws. though he didn’t care if outsiders saw and judged them, he cared dearly about what you think. he tries to pull away every time they catch your attention, afraid something might spark and your feelings may suddenly change about him, or worse, you’d be afraid of him. wriothesley wasn’t prepared to take that risk.

“it’s not something i’m proud of either..” he breathes, just barely — though you caught his utterance. looking away as his hand relaxes in your touch.

“i think all your scars perfect.” you sighed, your palm slid into his, “after all~ they are what made the most handsome and strong man i love today” you smiled cheekily up at him.

your comment made wriothesley crack a smile, along with a deep chuckle. you heaved yourself on top of him, his arms coming up to your waist to stabilise you. despite his cryo vision, he always had warmth emulating from him. like your own personal heater.

“is that so?” he ran his hand through his hair in a mock flourish. “maybe i should show it off in public more often—“

“now hold on, mister,” you pressed a finger to his lips, wriothesley glanced down at you, “i don’t want anyone stealing my husband now.”

“I—“

“but alas—“ you cut him off, straightening your posture but still perched on his stomach. placing a hand on your chest, as if preaching your own monologue in mock rejection “I guess i can’t have everything to myself.. even the duke of meropide himself.”

you got up to make a dramatic exit, still playfully in character. a hand grabbed yours, yanking you back down before you could get any further. planting a kiss sweet on your lips; your facade dissolving as you melted into his hold.

there was no doubt you were a fan of wriothesley’s kisses, they were gentle but firm. your hand flew up to his hair, the only thing separating you two was the need for air. leaving you flushed a bright crimson and him a satisfied smirk, you tried to turn away, but being straddled in wriothesley’s lap didn’t really do any good to hide from him.

a warm hand brought you back face to face, he chuckled. “woah now, no need to be so jealous. i’m not going anywhere.”

“what? i not jealous!” you sputtered out — though it came out mixed with a nervous laugh — shrugging your shoulders.

“no, no it’s okay,” wriothesley let out a sigh mixed with a snort, you caught a scent of earl grey tea, bringing you back to that cup you had shared before he suggested you both leave for a short while to enjoy one moment of sunlight. of course it was only meant to be a brief outing to relax, only at a shore just beside the fortress of meropide.

wriothesley seemed to be in no rush, so were you. even if duty calls — even in that dark and cold fortress with little to no fresh air — you still treasured even the briefest of breaks you had with wrio, and delayed getting back anytime soon.

a nonchalant voice brought you back from your thoughts.

“you should know,” he flashed you a corny smirk, rough fingers intertwined with yours, “this duke is all yours.”

#wriothesley x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley fluff #genshin impact x reader #kayas.writing #i love wriothesley #first post!!!11!!1\

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chaedomi · 11 months

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𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍 ✦ twtptflob

fem!child!reader x the blue pedelian (platonic!yan), kidnapping, mild injury, implied violence, unhealthy relationships; flowers don't attract butterflies alone. suddenly, others are gravitating to you, expanding your long list of obsessive admirers. pt. 1 ꨄ — masterlist

HOW DID it end up like this? It all happened in the span of one night while you were asleep. And when you reopened your eyes, you quickly discovered that you were no longer inside your bedroom. You had time to explore every place in your manor, so when you couldn’t identify which part of the manor you were in, you began to panic and overthink.

Your distress got worse when a silver-haired female burst into the room and grabbed you into a hug as if there wasn’t some problem with this. At this point, you began to cry, fully convinced that you were kidnapped, pushing the woman away from you, and startling her. It was in chaos for a while, your screams mixing with your words as you wailed for your freedom. The woman tried to reassure you with sweet words, inclusive of the maids present who stepped in to assist by dangling pretty jewelry in front of your face to distract you.

Unfortunately, their efforts to appease you only increased your wails. When a masculine figure barged into the room this time, it was only then you stopped crying, in favor of blinking at him while the stray tears fell from the corner of your eyes. Staring at the male, you knew he looked familiar, your panicked mind just couldn’t identify who.

When he approached you with a gentle smile, patted your head, and began this monologue of ‘protecting’ you, you finally put the pieces together; this male was no other than the heir of The Blue Pedelian, CASSIS. Oh, boy…

In truth, your kidnapping was all ROXANA's fault, and she had no choice but to admit that. God forbid if her family found out that she was the whole reason for your disappearance, it would even make her kind-hearted mother hold some form of grudge against her and result in her execution. Luckily, no one was able to trace the doings back to her… except her red-eyed freak of an older brother.

Satisfying her curiosity was not worth it. As they say, it killed the cat. Now, she was stuck reaping the consequences of her stupidity; distraught over your disappearance, and additional work that could have been avoided, in her plan.

…If her life didn't depend on his, you bet she would have already retaliated without mercy. How foolish, she gave him an inch and he took a mile.

But, who is to blame other than herself? To explain, it was a fleeting thought that crossed her mind one morning to which she initially paid no mind… till it stubbornly stuck inside her brain. From what she remembered, in The Abysmal Flower, Sylvia displayed extreme and obsessive feelings toward you, despite being the enemy, willing to risk her safety to keep you by her side. Due to her intervention, however, Sylvia remained out of the picture. Still, she began to wonder.

If Sylvia wasn’t immune to your adorable charms, could it possibly be the same for Cassis? And thus, it marked the beginning of her little experiment. It came as no surprise to her that Cassis was on guard when she first introduced you to him. After all, almost every Agriche child was a demon spawn.

Regardless of the precautions Cassis took, his guard quickly crumbled once he was exposed to your innocence and purity, much to Roxana’s amusement. His hostile attitude quickly evaporated, he even held you on his lap (with Roxana’s permission), reciting stories that would intrigue a child your age. …She wished he was that cooperative with her as well.

She continued this pattern for a few weeks… every day, she would spare some time to take you to Cassis and observe how it played out in the distance. And each time, it never failed to entertain her. A righteous and kept man like him becomes nothing more than a slave for a child, an enemy’s child. She was long satisfied with her discovery, it’s just that Cassis was always in a better mood and more willing to listen after he spent his time with you.

But the day Cassis got too comfortable and had the guts to refer to you as one of his SIBLINGS, she realized, she may have spoiled him too much. She never had a problem when Sylvia referred to you as her ‘little sister.�� However, that was BEFORE she was thrown into the novel world. Now that she had the opportunity to experience your kindness herself, anyone who tried to make their claim on you outside the family is nothing LESS aggravating. And that was the end of your little visits.

That’s when it went downhill. Of course, Cassis was quick to pick up on your sudden absence throughout the days. He tried to ask, but once Roxana's tone progressively got more aggressive the longer he persisted, he finally got the hint. He wasn't seeing you again.

Roxana was grateful that Cassis had shut his mouth after a while. But, she found it odd how compliant he remained without your presence. More so, she hated the way he stared at her, a hidden intent she couldn't figure out in his eyes. It intensified when she gave him a map of the manor, a faint sighting of a smirk ghosting his lips. …Out of all people, Roxana would have never expected Cassis to kidnap someone. Trust no one, as they say. What an arse… Repaying her good deeds with this.

And so, the manor of The Black Agriche was thrown into a frenzy, having lost something very precious. Unless Roxana wanted to stir more trouble with hasty actions, she must sit quietly for now. …At the very least she didn’t need to worry about your safety. Unlike The Black Agriche, The Blue Pedelian will never torture their captives, let alone a young child like you…

Meanwhile, you were having your own crisis. This was a very drastic change. Although the violent nature of your family often terrifies you, you have grown used to it… kind of. Now, with the serene environment of The Blue Pedelians, you've grown antsy, anticipating some form of chaos to arise.

Ignoring how he took you without your agreement (no matter how hard he tried to justify his actions in a good light), you felt more comfortable being around CASSIS than the rest of the family. You weren’t sure if the times spent together back in your manor contributed to your lack of fear around him or relieved over the fact that your situation could have been very worse, and you didn’t care all that much. Cassis's attitude toward you didn’t change from when he was held prisoner, instead, his doting habits only increased now that his actions were not limited and monitored. He spoils you a lot, more than he spoils his younger sister. He will try his hardest to provide whatever you want, as long as it stays within the 'reasonable' range.

And by 'reasonable' he means, stop asking him to return you home. Suddenly, he understood Roxana's frustration. Is this what she felt when he continuously persisted? He doesn't get why you would want to return home out of all places; your family is vile.

It's not like you wanted to return, you had to. Although you wished to run away and never return, the odds were still not in your favor for you to make your escape plan. Something also told you that residing in The Blue Pedelian Manor was its own kind of hell…

The possible feud that can brew if your whereabouts were revealed made your skin crawl with fear. Knowing your value between the two families as well, you would be caught in the crossfire, and who knows what would happen to you then… You were trying to make things better for you, not destroy all your chances.

Cassis still didn't listen to your concerns (he never does), shutting down your complaints with a stern glare. …You just hope whatever war was to break out, it would happen later rather than sooner…

Just what was wrong with you? He’s trying his hardest to get you accustomed to your new surroundings, spoiling you with gifts, spending time with you along with his sister, anything to put you at ease. Yet, you just didn’t care! All you did was flush his efforts down the drain. He thought he was making progress with you, so he would never expected it, hell, even imagined it. But, when he caught you creeping around the exit gates, your freaked-out expression said it all. Now, here you were, leg chained to the bedpost back inside your prison-like bedroom. Seeing you chained up reminded him of himself, and it was interesting to see the roles switch to some extent. Truthfully, your tears pained him, but, he didn’t see the point in you crying. He wasn’t doing anything bad and he wished that you’d stop acting as if he was.

"Why can’t you understand that this is for your benefit?"

Oh? SYLVIA adores you? Why, that's no secret and is obvious to anyone who witnesses the interaction between you and her. Why wouldn't she love you!? You're everything she ever wanted in a younger sister… well, minus the looks, but, she can get past that!

MORE doting than Cassis, it's overbearing, honestly. Ever since your first encounter, you don't remember a time when you were left alone; it's always some lousy excuse to be around you. She hugs, kisses, cuddles, squishes, and any affectionate gesture she can think of, she does it to you. It was like she was trying to merge herself with you.

Honestly, her compassion spooked you. Her behavior reminded you a lot of your second stepmother, Maria. So, you weren't surprised when she had some hostile reaction whenever a maid would unintentionally interrupt your 'bonding' time. The sweeter they are, the more aggressive. Well, at least there weren't any dead bodies scattered on the ground…

Have you ever been so upset that you began to cry? Sylvia is a perfect demonstration of that. Perhaps you were right to compare her to Maria, the rage evident on her face was akin to the deadly glare your stepmother wore when she was furious. Flashbacks clouded your mind of how Maria snapped when a servant accidentally spilled milk on your gown. This situation was much different; a maid somehow cut your hand with the teacup. The one time Sylvia thought it was a good idea to let you get some fresh air outside your room, the fun atmosphere was ruined by something silly as this. It’s no surprise if your family lashed out, but to see a sophisticated woman such as Sylvia spew out words of profanity and behave so hostile was unexpected. At the very least, you appreciated she held back for your sake. With the way her hands shook with rage the longer she chewed out the maid, you had the impression Sylvia wanted to do much more than a stern talking to.

“There you are! I looked for you everywhere. I was beginning to worry that you’ve run away, but, you won’t do that to me, right?”

Your fear of RISCHEL was reasonable. Given his position inside his household, you two never met that often. However, the rare times you do meet, his piercing gaze never fails to make you shrink back on yourself. If you think about it, his hateful attitude made sense. You were one of the many offsprings of his biggest enemy, Lante, and said enemy kidnapped his son and tormented him mercilessly. Some of his son’s many torturers included Lante’s children, so you could just imagine the many scenarios that went through his mind. You don’t blame him if he was tempted to torment you, solely for Lante having a taste of his own medicine.

While Rischel’s expression came across as wanting to bury you six feet under, in truth, he was very much intrigued by your existence. It was confusing to see his son return with an unconscious child after escaping. And for a moment he feared that his son went mad when the child held in his arms was an Agriche and pleaded for your protection.

He was hesitant (for good reason) but ultimately agreed in the end. If his son saw something valuable in you, then there must be some worth in keeping you around. However, it didn’t mean he automatically trusted you. Without your knowledge, he monitored you, planting eyes everywhere. Any suspicious activity he was informed of would be enough validation for him to throw you out with no hesitation.

…So how exactly did his wariness morph into overwhelming softness toward you? (like father like son) The feeling just dawned upon him and he noticed it all: your mannerisms, your innocence, it slowly rubbed on him in a positive light. This was strange. He wonders if you had used a spell on him, no one should fall under anyone’s whims so suddenly as if you possessed this charm that melts even the hearts of the cold-blooded. But, oh, did the feeling around you feel so nice. And soon, he simply gave in to the desire to love you and protect you.

You realized how much more tolerable he became of your presence, to your relief. Even so, the feelings you saw on the outside couldn’t begin to compare to the rapidly developing obsessive feelings he harbored for you. And by the time you began to pick up on the dangerous signals, the damage was already done.

You were beyond speechless when you looked into the reflection of the mirror, staring at someone else entirely. Her hair was a shade of pure silver, and her eyes resembled the golden rays of the sun. As you reached your hand out to touch the glass, your body froze as reality sunk in. This was not another person, but rather you, with a new appearance and identity you were forced to carry. Looking over your shoulder, you glanced at the faces of Rischel, Cassis, and Sylvia, hoping for all of this to be one big joke. But, the pleased glances they returned alerted you that this situation was far from a joke, and you had to accept your new fate.

“Sylvia was correct. This look suits you perfectly.”

You were stressed and rightfully so. How could all of this happen? And why did it have to be you? You were still young and didn’t deserve to deal with these problems. In such a short amount of time, along with new obsessors formed, you temporarily resigned to a new lifestyle, switching from agriche to pedelian.

#🥛━ 𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐄 #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #twtptflob #twtptflob x reader #manhwa x reader #manhwa x you #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #child reader #female reader

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