#to cower in isolation

[02tommy]

There is something so uncanny about timothee chalamet that I am convinced that he is not a real boy — rather, he was created in response to my love of anime yaoi boys … like the curl of a monkey’s paw… like the cat from pet sematary that came back Wrong

I gaze upon that fragile, sculpted face… framed by that poet’s mop… and I know that these are things that I like

And yet to behold a thing that should only exist in fiction

Something in my animal brain can only scream

[gh-0-stcup]

The weirdest take I've seen on Reddit is that the show made John Winchester a worse father in the later seasons than he was initially. That the worst he did early on was being a bit distant and training his sons from a young age. And of course, that stuff wasn't that bad because it was necessary to keep them safe.

Just off the top of my head here's what we get from season 1 alone. Dean being traumatized by John's treatment of him following the shtriga attack. John disowning Sam for going to college. John refusing to pick up his phone when Dean is literally dying. John physically intimidating Sam during an argument - one that started simply because Sam refused to go along with whatever John said to do without asking questions. Dean having to physically get between the two of them and having to physically pull them apart before they attacked each other.

There's a load of other stuff from the first 3 seasons as well. If anything, the show took a stronger stance regarding John's terrible parenting in those seasons than any of the later ones. The longer John was dead, the fonder the boys became of him.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

In The Minotaur's Maze

Male Minotaur Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Violently painful noncon, mild bleeding from sex, size difference, belly bulge from massively huge dick, mild mention of musk, stalking, kidnapping, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 980 (Tried to make a drabble, failed again with a mini-fic instead. Oops. This is one of my very few works, so far, that is technically fanfiction as Asterion is the canon name of the Minotaur in Greek mythology.)

You were a talented explorer seeking ancient relics for fame and fortune.

You used a combination of minor magic to speak to the dead and serious investigation to discern the location of the fabled Minotaur labyrinth.

It was deep within an enchanted cave system that in many ways served as an extension of the maze hidden away within.

You carefully navigated the treacherous caves until you came upon the secret entrance. You placed your hand in the middle of a smooth wall and uttered the magic incantation.

The wall dissolved in a flash of light, and you stepped through the entrance as the stone reformed behind you. This was it. You were in the maze proper. What secrets lie ahead?

Of course, you knew the legends of Asterion the Minotaur, but he had been slain in them. And nothing could live so long anyway, especially without food.

You navigated the stone corridors easily. Despite their age, they still looked brand new. As you continued on, you occasionally heard what sounded like hooves plodding along behind you.

You pushed it from your mind. Your imagination was playing tricks.

As you stepped around a corner, you came to a wooden door and opened it. When you stepped through, gone were the twisting stone paths filled with the scent of earth.

Instead, there was an ancient style dwelling overlooking some farmland growing a variety of trees, bushes, and vines.

The door you had come through was still behind you, you closed it and from this side it looked like a door to a shed. So the labyrinth had pocket dimensions… You had heard about them in passing. You wondered how large it was. The realm may look like an idyllic farm on earth, but if you went far enough away, you'd surely hit an invisible wall.

Perhaps the door to the house would lead further into the dungeon.

As you got closer, you realized how large it was. When you pushed the big door open, it actually was a house. Albeit with furniture that was made for someone very large.

Suddenly, you felt a hot breath at your neck. You turned to find the very large, naked Minotaur staring down at you. He was a hairy wall of muscle. One with the head of a bull, complete with metal tipped horns. His legs were covered in dark fur and ended in large hooves, and his full nutsack dangled beneath a frighteningly large prick.

Before you could react, the Minotaur grabbed you and pulled off all your clothing.

You had no idea how Asterion could have survived all this time. He had been killed!

But apparently, he hadn't gotten the memo.

In the past, he had consumed most humans that wandered into his labyrinthine prison, but you were bravely entering his home, his nest.

You weren't cowering like the old sacrifices. Well, you weren't before he grabbed you anyway.

That, combined with him being in rut and driven insane by thousands of years of isolation, made him not consider you as a meal for even a moment. You were firmly in the mate category in his brain.

So small and cute.

You writhed and fought to get out of his grasp but he ignored your greatest efforts as if they were nothing.

Asterion licked at your face as you pleaded with him to let you go.

He couldn't understand your language but he could guess at their meaning.

But he had no intention of ever letting this new mate of his go.

He tossed you down on the bed and you now saw what he intended to do.

His hard cock now at full arousal, as large and thick as a man's arm.

"No no no! Pleasepleasenono!!!" Your words blended together in a garbled panic as his musk hit your nose, sharp and dominating.

The only preparation your entrance received was a few gobs of slimy Minotaur saliva before he slammed inside you.

You shrieked.

It felt as though your entrance was on fire. As if it was being ripped apart.

With every thrust you shuddered in pain and sobbed. Nearly incoherent cries for mercy dribbled from your lips and fell on deaf ears.

You felt so warm and tight around him. This was just what he needed. Surely you had been sent to Asterion in his time of need by the gods. They finally, after eons, granted him mercy in the form of your insides.

So pliant to his girthy cock. Every time he dove back into you the outline could be seen in your stomach.

Tears streamed down your face as you silently wept, no longer able to scream or even babble your silly little pleas for it to stop.

Asterion wished he could tell you how well you were doing. That you were such a good cow for him. That you fit his cock so perfectly.

But he couldn't, so instead settled for licking and nibbling at your neck before wiping your tears away with his broad tongue.

With a final thrust he filled your belly visibly cum.

When he pulled out a torrent of his seed rushed down your thighs, it had noticeable streaks of pink from bleeding. You were such a fragile little thing compared to him.

He hadn't been able to hold back since that was the first time he had ever sought release inside of someone before, but he made note to be more careful.

Even though the breeding had stopped you were helpless. Broken. At least for the moment. You still cried silently, feeling utterly invaded and defiled.

Asterion took the time to lick you completely clean before laying down beside you and holding you close, spooning you with his mighty arm as you shook beneath it.

You came here to explore the deepest reaches of the maze... but had your deepest reaches explored instead...

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ cloud nine. ✦ 」

Mattheo riddle x reader [part2]

Summary: The "jinx girl," as they call her, is said to bring bad luck. However, when Mattheo Riddle decides to get to know the school's most neglected girl and takes matters into his own hands, Y/N's life is turned upside down in a mere night.

Warnings:fluff,smut, angst

Words: 11.2k

The whispers followed me like a shroud, a constant murmur that swirled around the edges of my existence. "The jinx girl ," they hissed, punctuated by snickers and pointed fingers. Bad luck, they believed, clung to me like a second skin, a misfortune I carried wherever I went.

Hogwarts, a place that promised magic and wonder, had become a labyrinth of avoidance. Empty seats flanked me in Potions, desks strategically moved away in Charms, and hushed conversations abruptly stopped when I entered the room. I was a pariah, a freak, the girl who supposedly brought misfortune upon anyone who dared come close.

Every dropped potion, every sprained ankle, every lost Quidditch match - all blamed on me, Y/N Y/L/N, the harbinger of bad luck. Hogwarts, once a dream, had become a prison. Even the ghosts seemed to cower at my presence.

Professor Flitwick, a whirlwind of energy and charm despite his diminutive stature, announced a project for our Charms class.

"Partnering up for a Conjuring Extravaganza!" he squeaked, his voice a high-pitched melody. "Showcase your enchanting skills with a partner of your choosing!"

The room erupted in excited chatter, students scrambling to find their partners. I, however, remained rooted to the spot, a familiar ache twisting in my gut. Who would want to pair up with the cursed child? As if sensing my despair, Professor Flitwick's bright blue eyes twinkled in my direction.

"Don't worry, Miss Y/L/N," he chirped, "there's always a perfect match for everyone!"

His words offered little comfort. The pairings continued, each giggling duo a stark reminder of my isolation. Just when I resigned myself to another solo project, a voice cut through the din.

"I'll pair with Y/L/N ."

The classroom fell silent. Heads swiveled in unison, disbelief etched on their faces. It was Mattheo Riddle, the Slytherin prince with a reputation as sharp as his intellect .

Professor Flitwick, however, beamed like a firework had gone off in his tiny fist. "Excellent choice, Mr. Riddle!"

My jaw dropped. Mattheo Riddle? Partnering with me ? the jinxing girl ? It was as unexpected as a dragon hatching a pixie. A ripple of surprised murmurs coursed through the class. Did he just volunteer? Was this a cruel joke?

stole a glance at Mattheo, half expecting a smirk or a sly wink that would shatter the illusion of kindness.

But instead, he met my gaze with a genuine, albeit hesitant, smile. It was a rare sight on his usually stoic face, a flicker of warmth that sent a jolt through me. He sauntered over, his confident stride somehow softened as he approached me.

"Fancy working together, (Y/N)?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. It was the first time he'd ever addressed me directly, to talk to , and the informality sent a wave of heat rushing to my cheeks.

"I... I uh, sure," I stammered, still struggling to process the situation.

Professor Flitwick launched into the specifics of the project, outlining the different magical creatures we could try conjuring. Mattheo, however, seemed more interested in me. He leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper.

"So," he began, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "what kind of magic are you most comfortable with love ?"he said, pulling up a chair next to me.

My heart skipped a beat. No one had ever used that term – "love" – with me before. It was a small word, but in that moment, it felt like a lifeline thrown across the chasm of isolation.

A hesitant smile tugged at my lips. "I, uh, I'm actually quite good with summoning charms," I confessed, surprised by my own boldness.

His smile widened. "Excellent," he said, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "I'm more of a transfiguration specialist. We could combine our strengths."

Combine our strengths? The thought of working alongside Mattheo, of learning from him and maybe even teaching him a thing or two myself, sent a thrill through me.

A comfortable silence settled between us as we delved into the project details. Professor Flitwick's lecture faded into background noise . Mattheo surprised me with his easygoing nature, his sharp intellect tempered with a dry wit that made me laugh, a sound that felt foreign escaping my lips.

Finally, Professor Flitwick called out the end of class. "Alright, class! Dismissed! Remember, be creative, be precise, and most importantly, have fun!"

My heart still hammered in my chest, a mixture of trepidation and a strange, exhilarating thrill. Mattheo gathered his books, and as he turned to leave, he caught my eye “ see you around Y/L/N “

The crisp autumn air sent a shiver down my spine as I settled onto the worn wooden bench in the school gardens. pulled out the book I burrowed from the library earlier , determined to bury myself in its intricacies and forget the entire debacle.

The rhythmic crunch of gravel on the path drew my attention. I glanced up, bracing myself for another encounter with Pansy and her posse, only to find Mattheo approaching. His expression was unreadable, a mix of curiosity and something I couldn't quite decipher.

He stopped a few steps away, a silent question hanging in the air. Surprised, I stammered, "M-Mattheo? What are you doing here?"

A hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice softer than I was accustomed to hearing from him.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Was this real? "I, uh, sure," I managed, gesturing to the empty space beside me.

He sat down, our shoulders brushing slightly. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words. Stealing a glance at him, I noticed his gaze fixed on the book in my lap. "Studying for the Charms exam?"

I shook my head. "Actually, this is more of a personal read. It's about obscure magical creatures."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh? Intriguing. Anything interesting?"

Hesitantly, I explained the book's exploration of Fae lore, their connection to emotions and the delicate balance they maintained with the human world.

To my surprise, Mattheo listened intently, occasionally asking insightful questions that sparked further discussion. We delved into the complexities of Fae magic, debated the ethics of human interaction with these mythical beings.

A playful glint flickered in his dark eyes, and a hint of a smile danced on his lips as he listened to my passionate explanation of Fae lore.

"Why – why are you smiling like that?" I asked hesitantly

"You just look so passionate about it," he explained, a genuine smile gracing his features.

"Actually, it’s totally my uncle fault he was the one who got me into it," I confessed, a fond smile playing on my lips. "He used to read me Fae tales before bed when I was young. Now here I am, analyzing their magical properties."

"Are you close with your uncle?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Yeah, very close," I replied, then hesitated, a shadow crossing my face.

He picked up on the shift in my mood. "Everything okay?"

Taking a deep breath, I blurted out the question that had been gnawing at me since the library. "Why are you doing this, Mattheo? Is this a dare or something?"

He frowned, genuine confusion etched on his face. "Why would you say that?"

"You know," I rambled, gesturing at the empty garden around us. "Aren't you afraid?"

"Afraid of what?" He tilted his head, his dark eyes holding a hint of amusement.

My breath caught in my throat as he reached out, a playful glint in his eyes. He brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, sending shivers down my spine. "Me?" I whispered, barely a breath escaping my lips.

He smirked, amusement flickering across his face. "You look pretty cute to even scare a fly, love. Why should I be afraid of you?"

His words, laced with a hint of flirtation, left me speechless. His touch, light as a feather, lingered on my cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

"You don't understand," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Look at the garden, no one is here because I'm here. They believe... they believe —"

He cut me off before I could finish my frantic explanation. "But I'm here, aren't I, love?" he said, his voice a husky murmur. My heart pounded like a drum solo, the world around us seeming to fade away.

"You shouldn't be," I managed, my voice small and breathless. "I don't understand why."

"I'm not playing games with you, I promise," he replied, his voice firm. I hesitantly nodded, closing my eyes as the weight of his words settled upon me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, a heavy sigh escaping my lips.

"Don't be," he said softly. "I understand. And you know what? I don't care what they say. And to be honest I don't even care if it was true..."

smiling , I looked up , meeting his gaze."So you're the first "

He leaned back, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "Let's just say," he began, his voice low and intriguing, "I know you weren't the reason Ronald broke his leg before the last Quidditch match."

A surprised laugh escaped my lips."And," he continued, his smile widening, "I also know that the explosion in Potions last year was entirely Harold's fault, not yours."

I burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the quiet garden. The weight of the whispers seemed to lift with each peal, replaced by a lightness I hadn't felt in years

"You were just there, like everybody else," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "So why would you take the blame for that?"

He leaned forward, his face so close now that my laughter subsided, replaced by a nervous flutter in my chest. "You know what they say about what happened in first year," I began, voice barely above a whisper.

"It stays with you till your last," he finished the saying, his dark eyes holding mine. A grateful smile tugged at my lips.

"So when Charlie from down the street brought the rumors from our neighborhood to school, and then spread that story about me jinxing Seamus during his first Quidditch practice.. and let's just say Neville's unfortunate Gillyweed incident didn't help my case too so a that everybody seemed to believe it ," I explained, finally voicing the truth I hadn't thought anyone would ever be interested in hearing.

"That's not fair," Mattheo said, his voice firm.

"Yeah," I sighed, "but as my Nana always says, some children are born with tragedies in their hands." A bittersweet smile crossed my lips. "And by some children, she means me."

"She sounds like a cruel woman," he muttered.

I laughed, a touch brittle. "If you think my Nana is cruel, you should've met my mother then."

The words tumbled out before I could stop them, a confession I hadn't meant to share. My cheeks burned with a sudden, hot shame. Mattheo, however, didn't seem repulsed. In fact, his expression softened further.

My voice trailed off, the weight of the past suddenly overwhelming. Sharing a secret like that felt like opening a wound I'd painstakingly hidden for years. The air hung heavy with unspoken words, the setting sun casting long shadows across the quiet garden.

"I-I think I should get going," I stammered, pushing myself out of the chair, my resolve shaky at best.

A cool hand gripped my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. My breath hitched as I turned to face him , his gaze a storm of emotions swirling within its depths "Don't run away yet."

My cheeks burned even hotter, but I couldn't seem to tear my gaze away from his. "I'm not running," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't release my wrist. Instead, his grip softened, his thumb gently stroking a soothing circle against my skin. The simple touch sent a shiver down my spine, a stark contrast to the cold isolation I'd grown accustomed to.

"Then can I interest you in some Butterbeer tomorrow evening?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful charm. "Three Broomsticks, perhaps? We could continue our discussion about Fae magic, or maybe you could tell me more about your Nana and your… interesting family history."

A surprised laugh escaped my lips. The idea of spending another evening with Mattheo, outside the confines of a school project, sent a thrill through me.

A smile, genuine and unrestrained, bloomed on my face. "I'd like that," I replied, my voice a whisper against the backdrop of the settling evening.

Sleep that night was a distant dream. The events in the garden replayed in my mind on an endless loop. Mattheo's hand in mine, the warmth of his touch lingering like a phantom sensation, his unexpected concern for my story – it all sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

The morning sun filtering through my dormitory window found me wide awake, staring at the ceiling with a tangled mess of hair and a giddy smile plastered on my face.

But then came the most agonizing decision of the day – what to wear? My trunk overflowed with the usual witchy robes, all shades of black and grey. None seemed appropriate for a… date? Was it a date? My cheeks burned at the thought.

Finally, I settled on a compromise. A dark green skirt that swirled around my knees, a crisp black blouse , and my trusty black boots. It wasn't extravagant, but it felt… me.

The walk to the Three Broomsticks was a mess a disaster as I was trying to figure out the right direction . As I pushed open the creaky oak door,I tried to breathe and calm my self down, My eyes scanned the room, searching for Mattheo amidst the bustling patrons.

And then I saw him, tucked away in a corner booth, a solitary figure amidst the chatter and laughter. Relief washed over me, followed by a jolt of something warmer as our eyes met. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he gestured for me to join him.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I walked towards him, a self-conscious fluttering in my stomach. Reaching the table, I slid into the booth opposite him.

his gaze lingering a beat longer than necessary on my face. "you..," he finally said, a low whistle escaping his lips. "You look..." he trailed off, searching for the right word.

My cheeks flushed a rosy hue . "I look?"

A slow smile spread across his face. "Radiant," he finished, his voice a husky murmur.

My breath hitched. No one had ever used that word to describe me before. "Radiant?" I repeated, a nervous laugh escaping my lips.

"Absolutely," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Though, I have to say, for a second I thought you weren’t coming “

“ oh I’m so sorry I was just trying to find the way I, uh, I've never actually been to the Three Broomsticks before," I admitted, hoping to deflect from his unexpected compliment.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Never? But it's practically a Hogwarts tradition!"

. "I guess I've been more focused on the library and…avoiding crowds."

A flicker of understanding crossed his face. "Well, consider this your official initiation," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Prepare to be overwhelmed by sticky tables, questionable singing."

The waitress returned with our drinks, placing them carefully on the table.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, momentarily shattering our peaceful bubble. A boisterous group of students, their laughter echoing through the room, flooded in. My stomach lurched as I recognized them – Charlie Spinnet , flanked by his usual entourage of Crabbe and Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson, her face twisted in a sneer.

Unlike the usual sneer of Pansy Parkinson, Charlie's expression was a confusing mix of anger and… was that a hint of disappointment ? He locked eyes with me, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of something more complex in his gaze before it hardened back into a scowl.

Before I could decipher the meaning of it all, Pansy spotted us. Her voice, dripping with her usual malice, sliced through the warm bubble we'd created. "Look who is there," she drawled, directing a flirtatious smile towards Mattheo. "Hello there, Riddle."

Mattheo responded with his trademark icy drawl, "Parkinson. Always a pleasure."

She gave a curt nod before returning to her group. Charlie, however, didn't follow. His gaze remained fixed on me, an unsettling intensity in his eyes. I met his stare, a knot of unease forming in my gut.

"He's jealous," Mattheo said casually, leaning back in his seat. My jaw dropped.

"Jealous? Of what?" I stammered, completely bewildered.

"He likes you ," he replied with a knowing smirk.

A bewildered laugh escaped my lips. "He likes me ? Mattheo, the boy ruined my life" I interjected, my voice laced with a sharp edge. In truth, life hadn't been a cakewalk before Hogwarts either.

Just then, a loud shattering sound erupted from our table, sending shivers down my spine. My cup of butterbeer, which Charlie had probably targeted with a stray jinx spell , lay in pieces on the floor. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the pub as everyone turned to stare

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to control the spike of panic rising in my chest. This was exactly what I'd feared. when I opened my eyes again, my gaze met Mattheo's.

Unlike me, he wasn't angry. Instead, a mischievous glint sparkled in his dark eyes. he was smirking.

"So, you said this is your first time at the Three Broomsticks, love?" he asked, a playful smile on his lips as he stood up. I felt a pit forming in my stomach, unsure of where this was headed.

"Yeah," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Then let's make it unforgettable," he declared, his smile widening. He turned towards Charlie's table, his gaze locking onto Charlie's. Pansy, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of amusement and apprehension, suddenly looked terrified.

Mattheo strolled over to their table, a confident swagger in his step. Reaching down, he casually lifted Charlie's untouched butterbeer He held it out to me with a charming smile. "Here, love," he said, not sparing Charlie a glance.

Charlie watched the exchange, his jaw clenched. "Is there anything you want to say, Spinnet?" Mattheo asked, his voice deceptively calm. Charlie just shook his head.

"Do you like toads?" Mattheo asked again a question so out of place it left us all speechless.

"S-seems like I do," Charlie stammered, his voice barely a squeak.

"Good," Mattheo said simply.

Then, in a blink, it happened. A blinding flash of light erupted from Mattheo's outstretched wand, enveloping Charlie. Before anyone could react, the speechless Charlie had vanished, replaced by a , green toad hopping comically on the table.

My scream was lost in the cacophony of shouts and gasps. Pansy let out a bloodcurdling shriek, scrambling back in her chair. Crabbe, for once, looked utterly bewildered.

Mattheo remained calm amidst the chaos, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Ignoring the stunned patrons, he reached for his pocket and placed a couple of pills on our table.

"I would take him back to the castle if I were you," he said to Pansy with a chilling smile. "Unless you prefer the company of amphibians."

Pansy was speechless, her face pale with a mixture of fear and fury. All she could manage was a strangled, "Merlin's Beard!"

Turning back to me, Mattheo offered his hand with his usual nonchalant charm. "Shall we go, love?" he asked, his voice a gentle contrast to the chaos he'd just unleashed.

We walked in comfortable silence for a while, following the familiar path towards the Black Lake. Finally, we reached the water's edge, the gentle lapping of waves against the shore providing a soothing counterpoint to the earlier frenzy. Mattheo gestured towards a large, flat rock nestled under a willow tree. "Mind joining me?" he asked, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

I nodded, still processing the events of the evening. Charlie's transformation, Pansy's terror, it was all a bit surreal. Sitting down on the rock, I pulled my knees to my chest, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.

"So," Mattheo began, a playful lilt to his voice, "first date, and I turn your potential bully into a toad. Not exactly the charming introduction I was hoping for."

I glanced at him, surprised. "Date?" I stammered, a blush creeping up my cheeks.

His smile softened. "Well," he began, " we did ditch the project discussion for butterbeer and…, then turning someone into a toad… definitely not your typical Tuesday."

I couldn't help but laugh, My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "I… I never thought…" I stammered, completely flustered.

He reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sent shivers down my spine. "Neither did I," he confessed, his voice surprisingly soft.

"Thank you," I said, taking a deep breath, " it's the first time anyone has ever defended me like that. Not since my Uncle."

Mattheo's smile softened. "Well," he said, his voice gentle, "consider me your knight in slightly-unconventional-Slytherin-armor then."

I laughed a blush crept up my cheek

Silence descended between us, broken only by the gentle chirping of crickets and the lapping of the lake.

"You mentioned your Uncle," Mattheo said, his voice curious. "Tell me about him."

"He's a bit of a character," I began, a smile playing on my lips. "He travels the world, studying ancient magic. He's probably in some remote location right now, chasing myths and legends he’s so brave ."

"Sounds fascinating," Mattheo commented, his voice laced with genuine interest. "But you're not close with anyone else in your family?"

The question hung in the air, and I hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to reveal. But something about the sincerity in his eyes, made me want to share a part of myself I rarely opened up about.

"Well, I'm not exactly their favorite," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "You see, my arrival wasn't exactly... welcomed."

Mattheo's brow furrowed in concern. "What do you mean?" he asked gently.

Taking a deep breath, I plunged into the murky waters of my past. "My mother ,she found out she was pregnant with me. At the same time, she learned about my late brother's… illness. He died tragically, just two days before I was born."

"She… she blamed me," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "She believed I somehow took his place, that I was the reason he was gone."

He squeezed my hand gently, as if offering silent comfort.

"And your father?" he asked, his voice low and controlled.

"My father," I said, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "He said I stole his son's place. He never showed me any affection, always seeing a shadow of my brother instead of me."

My throat tightened, and I struggled to continue.

"But then there’s nana … well, she is a healer," I began, taking a shaky breath"She believed in a strange kind of balance. She used to say, 'A soul for a soul.'" A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled the chilling words. "'Sometimes,' she'd say, 'life takes one thing and gives another’. She just wished it had been my brother who lived."

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and serious. "That's a terrible thing to say to a child. None of that is your fault. You didn't ask to be born, and you certainly didn't cause your brother's illness."

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. The weight of their rejection, the constant reminder that I was somehow unwanted, had always been a heavy burden to carry.

Then, with a tenderness that took my breath away, he brushed his thumb across my cheek, wiping away a stray tear. The simple gesture, so full of empathy and understanding, felt like a dam breaking inside me. The tears that I'd been holding back spilled over, flowing freely down my cheeks.

Mattheo didn't flinch. He didn't pull away. He simply sat there, his hand cupping my face, his gaze holding mine with an intensity that both scared and excited me.

In a voice barely above a whisper, he said, "They don't deserve you , Not your mother, not your father, not sure your weird grandmother . They are blind to the incredible person you are."

His words, sincere and heartfelt, washed over me like a soothing balm.

"You are strong," he continued, his voice husky with emotion. "You are brave. You are kind. You carry the weight of their cruelty, yet you remain kind. That is a strength they will never possess."

His thumb continued to brush away my tears, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

As he spoke, the space between our faces seemed to shrink. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips, his gaze holding mine captive. The air crackled with a tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Then, before I could even think to stop him, Mattheo leaned in closer. The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of his hand on my face and the anticipation building within me.

His lips met mine in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a fleeting touch, barely a whisper, yet it sent a jolt of electricity through me.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. A nervous smile tugged at the corner of his lips.," is this your first kiss? “ he murmured, his voice husky.

A slow nod confirmed his suspicion , he leaned in again, this time deepening the kiss. This kiss was different – moving with a rhythmic dance that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions.

When we finally broke apart, breathless and slightly dazed, a blush crept up my cheeks. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo echoing in the quiet night.The taste of his lips lingered on mine, a sweet and intoxicating sensation that left me craving more.

"So," he said, his voice slightly breathless. "Forget everything I said about first impressions being unforgettable. Maybe this is a better way to start things off."

The next weeks unfolded like a whirlwind. Mattheo became a constant presence in my life, his shadow seemingly falling across mine with an uncanny frequency. Whether it was bumping into him "accidentally" on my way to Herbology, finding him "coincidentally" seated across from me in the library buried in the same obscure text on Fae magic, or him "miraculously" appearing just as I was leaving the Great Hall, it was clear he was making a concerted effort to be around me.

His tactics, though slightly obvious, were nonetheless charming. He started leaving small gifts on my desk – a fascinating book on Veela lore, a single perfect white rose

No one had ever gone out of their way to make me feel special before. Mattheo was doing just that, chip by chip, breaking down the walls I'd built around myself.

His "accidental" helpfulness extended to academics as well. He started leaving me beautifully illustrated books on ancient magic, conveniently "forgotten" on my desk. During Potions, he'd mysteriously materialize behind me just as I was about to accidentally add Flobberworm mucus to my Amortentia potion (a near disaster that could have had…interesting consequences).

One afternoon, while struggling with a particularly complex Transfiguration spell, Mattheo walked in on my frustration. He didn't laugh or poke fun,Instead, he sat down beside me, his patience as impressive as his knowledge. He explained the spell with a clarity I hadn't experienced before, his hand brushing against mine as he pointed something out on my parchment.

By the end of the week, I'd not only mastered the spell but found myself drawn to Mattheo in a way I hadn't before.

Mattheo's efforts extended beyond "accidents." He started introducing me to his friends. Theo and blaise ,Then there was Enzo, Mattheo's half-brother. With his playful demeanor and infectious laugh, Enzo made me feel welcome within their circle. I found myself enjoying their company, their camaraderie a stark contrast to the loneliness I had grown accustomed to.

One evening, while studying in the common room, , Enzo, sauntered over , He slid into the seat next to me, ignoring Mattheo's glare.

"Hey there, love," Enzo said, his voice dripping with a flirtatiousness that made me feel uncomfortable. "Studying hard?"

Before I could respond, Mattheo spoke up. "Enzo, perhaps you haven't noticed, but Y/N is busy."

Enzo simply chuckled. "Relax, brother. Just trying to be friendly." He leaned in closer to me

Enzo whispered, "He can be quite possessive, don’t you agree?" I couldn’t help but laugh, which was Mattheo’s last straw.

"Back off, Enzo," the words laced with barely contained anger , Enzo smiled and with a shrug and a playful wink at me, he sauntered away.

The most surprising consequence, however, was the complete absence of whispers. The rumors that had plagued me since childhood seemed to vanish overnight. Not a single snide remark, not a single pointed finger. The silence was deafening, and yet, strangely comforting.

Was it fear of Mattheo, or something more? Either way, I didn't question my newfound peace.

The stolen moments with Mattheo became a cherished secret language.

One particularly rainy evening, after a long and tedious double Potions lesson, Mattheo found me huddled in the deserted library, desperately trying (and failing) to decipher a particularly cryptic passage in a dusty old tome.

"Having trouble with the love language of Goblins, love?" he drawled, his voice a welcome sound in the quiet of the library.

I looked up, startled, my cheeks flushing at the sight of him. "Mattheo, you scared me!"

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Just offering my expertise in the finer points of ancient languages," he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

He pulled up a chair next to me, the scent of his cologne filling my senses. As he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as he attempted to translate the passage, a spark ignited between us.

Emboldened by the privacy of the deserted library and the frustration of the Gobbledegook text, I turned to face him, my lips brushing against his ear as I pointed to a particularly confusing line.

Suddenly, the air crackled with unspoken desire. Mattheo's hand cupped my cheek, his thumb gently tracing the line of my jaw. His gaze held mine, a storm brewing in its depths.

"There's another way to learn this language," he murmured, his voice husky with suppressed longing.

Before I could respond, he closed the gap between us. The kiss was different this time. It was slow, searing, filled with a raw emotion that sent shivers down my spine. It was a kiss that spoke not just of affection, but of a growing possessiveness, a silent claim on my heart.

We pulled away breathlessly, foreheads resting together. The quiet of the library thrummed with the intensity of the unspoken words hanging in the air.

"Maybe Gobbledegook isn't so bad after all," I finally whispered, a shy smile playing on my lips.

Mattheo chuckled, a deep sound that resonated within me. "Perhaps not," he agreed, his eyes lingering on mine for a beat longer than necessary.

One blustery afternoon, while seeking refuge from a sudden downpour in a hidden alcove near the greenhouses, we found ourselves alone. The air crackled with unspoken tension as we stood shoulder-to-shoulder, the rain drumming a steady rhythm on the stone walls.

He cleared his throat, his gaze flickering from my face to the storm raging outside. "This weather is something else, isn't it?" he said, his voice barely a whisper above the wind.

"Unpredictable, like magic itself," I replied, my own voice barely a murmur.

Suddenly, he turned to face me, his eyes a storm brewing within them. Before I could react, he cupped my face in his hands, his touch sending shivers down my spine. The space between us evaporated as he leaned in, his breath warm against my cheek.

"You're unpredictable too, Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with something raw and primal. "In the best way possible."

And then, he kissed me. It was a kiss unlike any I'd ever experienced. It was fierce and passionate, filled with a yearning that mirrored my own.

I was hunched over a particularly dense text on Herbology, wrestling with the intricacies of magical plant growth, when a shadow fell across the page.

Looking up, I met Mattheo's gaze, a teasing glint in his dark eyes. "Lost in the world of Venomous Tentacula again, love?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.

I swatted playfully at his hand, a smile tugging at my lips. "These Bulbadox Bulbs are more stubborn than they look," I grumbled.

He chuckled, leaning closer. "Maybe they just need the right touch," he murmured, his breath warm on my ear.

Before I could react, he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against the offending passage. A jolt of electricity shot through me, my heart skipping a beat. He lingered for a moment too long, his touch sending goosebumps erupting across my skin.

"See?" he said, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Sometimes understanding comes from a different kind of connection."

His words were a playful jab, but the intensity of his gaze held a deeper meaning. I felt my cheeks flush, a secret smile spreading across my face.

"Maybe," I replied, unable to tear my gaze from his.

The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken emotions. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, Mattheo leaned in further. His lips brushed against the sensitive skin of my neck, sending a wave of warmth cascading through me.

It was a soft, lingering exploration. He trailed a finger down my neck, sending shivers dancing across my exposed skin. My breath hitched in my throat, and I leaned back into his touch, a helpless moan escaping my lips.

He chuckled against my skin, a low, throaty sound that sent a delicious tremor through me. "You should see the way you blush, Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

My cheeks burned even hotter. This wasn't the stolen kiss under the moonlight, this was something more intimate, more raw. It was a secret shared between us, a confirmation of the growing connection that thrummed beneath the surface.

Suddenly, the library door slammed open, shattering the intimate moment. Madam Pince, the stern librarian, swept in, her beady eyes scanning the room. Mattheo and I both straightened up, a sheepish grin on his face.

"No hanky-panky in the Restricted Section, young man," Madam Pince barked, her voice laced with suspicion.

Mattheo, ever the charmer, flashed her a boyish grin. "Just helping a friend with her research, Madam Pince," he said, his voice dripping with mock innocence.

Madam Pince narrowed her eyes at us for a moment longer before muttering something about "frivolous students" and disappearing behind a towering bookshelf.

As soon as she was gone, Mattheo let out a low whistle, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Looks like we've been caught," he said, a hint of regret in his voice.

I couldn't help but laugh, the tension broken. "Maybe we should stick to the Herbology section next time," I teased, butterflies still fluttering in my stomach from his touch.

He took my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine. "Maybe," he agreed, his eyes holding mine. "But who knows what secrets lurk in the Restricted Section?"

Suddenly, a voice broke through my concentration. "Y/N!"

I looked up to see Charlie Spinnet standing awkwardly in front of me, a hopeful smile plastered on his face. My stomach lurched, a flicker of unease coursing through me.

"Charlie," I stammered, unsure of what to say.

"Hey," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Before I could answer, mattheo’s voice cut in, laced with a dangerous edge.

"Actually, she can't," Mattheo drawled, His eyes narrowed at Charlie, a dark glint flickering within them.

Charlie gulped, his hopeful smile faltering. "M-Mattheo," he stammered. "I just wanted to…"

"Whatever it is," Mattheo interrupted, his voice low and cold, "it can wait."

The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. My heart hammered against my ribs, caught between the awkwardness of Charlie's unexpected presence and the possessiveness radiating from Mattheo.

"But—" Charlie began, but Mattheo cut him off again.

"No buts, Spinnet," Mattheo said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Now, if you'll excuse us,"

He took my hand possessively, his fingers wrapping around mine with a force that left no room for argument. Before Charlie could stammer another word, Mattheo practically dragged me away.

We walked in silence for a moment, the only sound our hurried footsteps echoing through the empty corridor. My cheeks burned with a mixture of annoyance and a strange sense of… satisfaction?

"Mattheo, that was a bit harsh," I finally said, breaking the silence.

He stopped abruptly, turning to face me. His gaze was intense, a storm brewing within its depths.

"He shouldn't have bothered you," he said, his voice low and possessive.

"He was just trying to talk to me," I pointed out, a hint of defiance creeping into my voice.

"And what exactly did he want to talk about?" Mattheo challenged, his jaw clenched.

"I don't know," I admitted, shrugging my shoulders. "But I should have been allowed to find out, shouldn't I?"

Mattheo seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment, his emotions flickering across his face. Finally, he sighed, the tension slowly ebbing away.

"Look," he said, his voice softer now, "I just… don't like the idea of someone else getting close to you."

My heart skipped a beat. Was he… jealous?

"Why not?" I couldn't help but ask, a teasing smile playing on my lips.

He hesitated – a rare sight that sent a thrill through me.

"Because…" he stammered, searching for the right words. "Because maybe you mean more to me than I care to admit."

The words hung in the air. A smile bloomed on my face, wider than it had in weeks.

"Is that so, Riddle?" I said, my voice barely a whisper.

He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a newfound vulnerability. Leaning in closer, he brushed a stray strand of hair from my face with his thumb.

"Maybe it is," he murmured, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to mine.

Before we could explore that maybe any further, a loud cough echoed through the corridor. We sprang apart, startled, to see a smirking Enzo leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed.

"Oh please don’t let me stop you ," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Mattheo scowled, his usual bravado returning. "Get lost, Enzo," he snapped.

Enzo, unfazed, simply chuckled. "Just making sure you're not neglecting your studies, brother dearest," he said, his voice dripping with mock concern. "Professor Flitwick wouldn't be happy if he caught you missing his lecture because you can’t keep your hands to yourself those days "

My cheeks burned even hotter. "We weren't… ," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

Enzo chuckled. "Whatever you say, sweetheart . But don't worry, your secret's safe with me." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Though, if you're looking for a more private place next time, I know a few hidden alcoves that are perfect for… well, you get the idea."

"Thanks, Enzo," I said smiling trying to get away from this conversation as fast as possible .

"Anytime," he replied, throwing a playful two-finger salute before disappearing back down the corridor.

Mattheo and I stared at each other for a long moment, the tension thick in the air.

"I think I need to go …" I began, unsure how to proceed “ see you at ummm….”

"...Great Hall," Mattheo finished my sentence, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment. Though his earlier possessiveness had surprised me, I couldn't deny a flicker of warmth at his reluctance to see me go.

"Yeah, the Great Hall," I confirmed, unable to meet his gaze for too long. The lingering confession, the stolen moment almost-kiss, hung heavy between us.

As I sank deeper into the worn armchair, a group of giggling Gryffindor girls approached, their chatter drawing my attention.

"Y/N!" Lavender Brown announced, her voice bright with excitement. "Did you hear? There's supposed to be a total lunar eclipse tonight!"

My heart skipped a beat. A lunar eclipse? A shiver of excitement ran down my spine. For the first time in years, I hadn't even been aware of such an event. But more importantly, they were inviting me.

Parvati Patil chimed in, her dark eyes sparkling. "We're all planning to gather near the lake to watch. It's supposed to be incredible! Are you coming?"

"I…" I stammered, unsure how to respond.

"Oh, come on, Y/N," Padma, Parvati's twin, nudged me playfully. "It'll be fun! We can all gossip and make wishes under the moonlight."

A lump formed in my throat. It was a simple question, but it felt monumental. An invitation to not just witness a celestial phenomenon, but to be included, to be a part of something.

For a moment, I simply stared at them, my mind struggling to process the shift. Was this real? Did they genuinely want me to join them?

"I don't know," I mumbled, looking down at my shoes. "Maybe…"

"Don't worry, Y/N," Lavender reassured me, sensing my hesitation. "It's up to you. But if you do decide to come, we'd love to have you."

With a warm smile, they turned to leave, their excited chatter fading as they descended the stairs. I watched them go, a wave of indecisiveness washing over me.

The rest of day went by quickly as I was still thinking about the invitation then mattheo I looked around searching for him

I spotted him by the courtyard, leaning against a stone pillar, his usual air of nonchalance masking a hint of concern. As I approached, he pushed himself off the pillar and met my gaze.

"Hey," he said, his voice laced with a question as his eyes scanned my face.

"Hi, Mattheo," I replied hesitantly.

"Everything alright?" he asked, his brow furrowed. He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from my eye with a gentle touch .

Taking a deep breath, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "There's a lunar eclipse tonight, did you know?"

He blinked, surprised by the abrupt change of subject. "A lunar eclipse?" he echoed.

"Yeah," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Apparently, it's supposed to be the biggest one in years. Everyone's going down by the Black Lake to watch it."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Everyone, huh?" he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Well," I admitted, feeling my cheeks flush, "not everyone. But some people. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil invited me, and…"

I trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence. Did I dare ask him to join me?

"And?" Mattheo prompted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"And," I mumbled, looking down at my shoes, "I was wondering… would you maybe want to come with me?"

The playful smile vanished, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. "With you?" he echoed.

I looked back up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yeah," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "If you want to, of course."

He held my gaze for a long moment, the silence stretching between us. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, warm and genuine.

"I'd like that very much, love ," he said, his voice a low rumble.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange and pink, I made my way towards the Black Lake. The crisp autumn air buzzed with excited chatter as students from all houses gathered, blankets and snacks in tow, eager to witness the celestial spectacle.

A warm hand brushed against mine, sending a jolt through my system. Turning, I met Mattheo's gaze, a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes. He wore a casual smirk, but the way his hand lingered on mine spoke volumes.

he breathed, taking in the scene before him. "Didn't expect the whole school to be here."

I chuckled. "Apparently, lunar eclipses are kind of a big deal."

We weaved through the crowd, Lavender and Parvati waving to us over Theo , Enzo even Blaise was there too that was really unexpected . We settled in, surrounded by the cheerful chatter and laughter.

As the moon began to cast its silvery glow, a hush fell over the crowd. Everyone turned their eyes skyward, captivated by the gradual darkening of Earth's natural satellite. Mattheo, however, seemed more interested in me than the moon. His hand brushed mine again, sending a delicious shiver down my spine.

Leaning closer, he whispered in my ear, his voice husky and warm. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

I nodded, unable to tear my gaze from his face. "It is," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head slightly, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to mine. Just as I thought he was about to kiss me, his voice dipped even lower.

"come with me. "

The surprise on my face must have been evident. "Where?" I stammered.

he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "Trust me, it'll be worth it."

We walked for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional rustle in the bushes. The air grew thicker the deeper we ventured, and a sense of unease gnawed at the edges of my excitement. Just as I was about to voice my concerns, Mattheo came to a stop in front of a section of gnarled oak trees, their branches intertwined in an almost unnatural way.

"Here?" I asked, eyeing the dense foliage with suspicion.

He smirked, his eyes gleaming in the faint moonlight that filtered through the canopy. "Here," he confirmed, stepping forward and pushing aside a thick curtain woven from the very leaves themselves.

To my astonishment, a hidden passage unfolded behind the makeshift doorway. A narrow path, barely wide enough for two people, stretched into the darkness, illuminated faintly by glowing mushrooms that dotted the damp stone walls.

My initial apprehension warred with the budding trust I felt for Mattheo. Taking a deep breath, I gripped his hand tighter. "What is it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Just trust me," he murmured, his touch surprisingly gentle.

We walked in silence, the air growing colder and the earthy scent more pronounced. The path eventually led to a sturdy wooden door hidden within the rocky wall. Mattheo pushed it open, revealing a sight that took my breath away.

It was a small, circular room, but its crowning glory was a large, arched window that took up most of one wall. Through it, the eclipse was on full display, the shadowed moon hanging in the inky black sky. But unlike the darkness of the forest, here, the view was clear and breathtaking

I breathed, my surprise echoing in the stillness of the night.

Mattheo chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice. "Told you it was worth it."

"This is…" I stammered, searching for the right words. "Amazing."

Mattheo smiled, his hand moving to brush a stray curl from my face. “We found this place a while back," he explained. "It's kind of a secret."

He pulled me towards the window, his arm wrapping around my waist, stood behind me , gazing up at the celestial phenomenon unfolding above us. The darkness, once menacing, now seemed like a vast, inky canvas upon which the eclipse played out.

"It's even more breathtaking from here, isn't it?" Mattheo whispered, his voice warm against my ear. , his words laced with something more than just the wonder of the eclipse.

I could only nod, my throat suddenly dry. The beauty of the celestial spectacle was undeniable, but it paled in comparison to the feelings Mattheo was stirring within me.

A warmth bloomed in my chest, a response that surprised even me. Mattheo's presence, so close and unexpected in this hidden haven, sent a delicious shiver down my spine.

As if sensing my shift, his arm tightened around my waist, pulling me closer. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of the crackling fire.

Then, his lips brushed against my ear again. This time, the words were different. Softer, more intimate. "You're even more breathtaking," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down my neck.

My eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze reflected in the moonlight filtering through the window. The eclipse, forgotten for a moment, seemed to cast an ethereal glow on his features, highlighting the intensity in his eyes.

Before I could form a coherent thought, his lips met mine. The kiss was tentative at first, a soft exploration that sent a wave of warmth through me. Instinctively, I reached up, my fingers finding purchase on his arm.

A contented sigh escaped his lips as he deepened the kiss, his hand finding mine and intertwining our fingers. The touch sent a jolt through me, a current of electricity that ignited a fire within.

When he finally pulled away, a breathless gasp escaped my lips. My cheeks burned, my heart hammered a wild rhythm against my ribs. A shy smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

His gaze never left mine.He leaned down again, his lips trailing a path of fire down my neck. He paused at a sensitive spot just below my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

Unable to hold back a moan, I arched my neck into his touch, a silent plea for more. His hand reached down, skimming the curve of my hip before settling lightly on my lower back as I felt the wall behind us

He was going to stop I know that he was going to hold back again "Wait," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. Looking into his eyes, I saw a storm of emotions – frustration, amusement. It was a look that made my heart skip a beat, a look that made me feel a dangerous mix of power and surrender.

"I want to " I stammered, unsure how to articulate the jumbled mess of emotions swirling within me.

"You sure?" he asked, his voice husky with suppressed desire.

Taking a deep breath, I blurted out, "I want this, Mattheo. I mean…I've never done this before, but I trust you. And I want it."

"Let's take things slow, alright?" He whispered softly in my ear and i nodded, his lips finding their way back to my neck, tracing over the mark he had just left behind.

"Mattheo," I moaned when he nipped at the same spot again, his teeth sharp and his lips unyielding.

"God my name sounds like heaven from your lips" he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear.

"Have you ever touched yourself, love?" His question caught me off guard, my breath catching in my throat as I shook my head. I had wanted to try but never mustered the courage.

"It's okay, my love," he reassured, his hands sliding under my top, caressing my skin with a tender touch that sent shivers down my spine.Then he gently pushed me up, settling me on the nearest table. "I'll take care of you."

Pressing more kisses to my neck, his hands moved to my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he lifted my skirt slightly. "Is this alright?" he asked, his breath hot against my neck.I smiled at him and nodded again

“I’m going to touch you now, Just tell me when you want to stop, and I promise I’ll end it,” said with determination, his fingers brushing my cheek i nodded leaned forward to kiss him instead of just responding.

He did as he told , his fingers sliding into my pants proceeded slowly, finding my most sensitive spot, eliciting pleasurable sensations that made me arch my back and cling to him.

slowly rubbing circles around it. He used light pressure, but it felt amazing. His gaze intently watched my response, figuring out what i like.

He picked up the pace and pressure, sending pleasurable shocks through my body. my back arched as the ache between my legs increased. 

“God you’re so wet for me." he whispered, his voice filled with awe and desire. "Does it feel good?"

“ Yes , it feels so good.” I moaned softly, my voice barely audible as waves of pleasure washed over me.

"Can I?" he asked, seeking my consent.

"Yes, please," I begged, my desperation evident in my voice.

"It might feel strange at first, but I promise it will get better quickly," he reassured, and I nodded in agreement. With my consent, his finger slid between my folds, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. My hands found their way to his shoulders as I rested my head against them.

"Breathe, my love," he whispered, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of pleasure. I obeyed, inhaling deeply as a symphony of moans escaped my mouth, each one a testament to the pleasure coursing through my body.

"Mattheo," I moaned, his name a mantra on my lips.

"Yes, love. Talk to me," he encouraged, his movements slowing to allow me to catch my breath.

"There's something..." I tried to say, but pleasure engulfed me, leaving me speechless.

His lips found mine, his kisses distracting me from my thoughts as I succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure he offered.

"Just let go for me," he whispered against my lips, his breath igniting a fire within me that sent me spiraling into bliss.

His thumb applied pressure to my clit, sending electrifying waves of pleasure through my body. I gripped his shoulder tightly as he carefully added another finger, causing me to close my eyes in ecstasy.

"Don't close your eyes, love. Look at me," he urged, his voice filled with desire and a hint of command. I obeyed, locking eyes with him as his fingers found that specific spot inside me, unleashing a sensation I had never experienced before. It was so intense that I couldn't contain my scream of pleasure, feeling like I was soaring among the clouds.

He continued to target that spot, his gaze fixed on me as if he could read my every reaction. With a satisfied smile, he spoke soft words in my ear , reveling in my response.

His touch remained gentle yet firm, guiding me through the waves of pleasure until I reached the pinnacle, my body trembling in his embrace as I experienced a euphoric release unlike anything before.

"It's alright, I'm here," he murmured, his words a soothing balm as I surrendered to the pleasure that consumed me.

As I floated back to reality, I found myself in his arms, his gaze filled with tenderness and adoration. He leaned in, capturing my lips in a deep, passionate kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions.

"Maybe you mean more to me than I care to admit too , riddle," I repeated his earlier words. But what I truly wanted to express was that, ,I think I'm in love with you, Mattheo Riddle.’

From that night onward, everything shifted, and my life transformed into a fairy tale. The intensity of my feelings for him grew so profound that a day without seeing Mattheo felt like an eternity, leaving me yearning for his presence. He cherished me as if I were the most precious gem in his life, and to say that I loved him would be an understatement; my emotions ran deeper than mere words could express.

Despite our unspoken declarations of love, we refrained from exploring further sexual intimacy after that intense encounter. However, the desire and longing between us only grew stronger, leaving me yearning for more moments of intimacy with him. Each kiss, touch, and gaze across the room spoke volumes of the love we shared, even if the three words were never verbalized.

The end-of-year party hosted by Slytherin was a legendary affair, whispered about in hushed tones by those who had attended in previous years. Despite hearing countless tales about the extravagant festivities, I had never been tempted to go, for me, it had always been an off-limits fantasy , one I didn't dare to try and make true.

As the "jinx girl", stepping foot into such a renowned event felt like a risky move. The thought of facing judgment, scrutiny, and potentially being ostracized by my peers held me back from even considering attending.

However, in those few months everything changed. I found myself shedding my inhibitions and fears, stepping out of my comfort zone and embracing new experiences. The bonds I formed with other Slytherins grew stronger, and I even made friends outside of Mattheo's circle, feeling more at ease and confident in social settings.

The Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry was as legendary as the end-of-year party itself. This year, however, a shared misfortune had united the two houses in a grudging camaraderie. Professor Flitwick, bless his innocent heart, had stumbled upon Blaise Zabini and a very surprised Gryffindor tangled together in a rather compromising position in a dusty basement corridor. Let's just say, both houses lost a significant number of points, paving the way for Ravenclaw to snatch the coveted House Cup in a landslide victory.

So, as the day of the party approached, a thrill of anticipation danced in my stomach.

"Mattheo," I said, catching his attention as I approached him and his friends. He gently guided me to sit next to him, holding my hands with a tender touch

“ yes love ? “

"Are we… are we going to the party tonight?" I asked, trying to gauge his reaction.

He looked up, surprise flickering across his face. "The party?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow. "You… you want to go?"

I felt a flicker of self-consciousness, but I held his gaze. "Yeah," I admitted.

“Honestly, Y/N," he said, "it's a bit… childish."

"Childish?" I repeated, surprised. "But everyone says it's a lot of fun!"

Enzo, chimed in with a shrug. "He has a point. It's mostly just first years causing mayhem."

There it was , that hesitation. Mattheo rarely said no to anything I asked.

He studied me for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. He glanced at Enzo, exchanging a silent communication that left me puzzled.I don’t really understand I know they used to go every year .

He looked at me for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine. Then, a slow smile spread across his face.

"Alright then love ," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "If you want to, then we'll go."

The Slytherin common room was a whirlwind of emerald and silver. Green streamers snaked across the ceiling, enchanted banners proclaimed Slytherin victory in various forgotten contests, and a cacophony of music and laughter filled the air. My heart pounded with excitement, a delightful mix of anticipation and nerves.

The atmosphere was vibrant, filled with laughter and music. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to have me there, chatting and mingling as if I had been a regular attendee for years.

However, what struck me as odd was how Mattheo and Enzo never left my side. It was as if they were guarding me, anticipating something that I wasn't aware of. Despite their usual easygoing demeanor, there was a sense of alertness in their actions that left me curious and slightly uneasy.

As the night progressed, I couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched, not in a malicious way, but more like a protective gaze. Mattheo and Enzo's constant presence by my side felt both comforting and unsettling at the same time.

I tried to brush off my unease and enjoy the party, engaging in conversations and joining in on the festivities. However, the nagging feeling that something was amiss lingered in the back of my mind.

It wasn't until later in the evening, when Mattheo and Enzo exchanged a meaningful glance, that I realized there was more to their protective behavior than met the eye.

Chaos erupted in the common room as Charlie Spinnet, stormed towards Mattheo. "Get her out of here now ," he growled, jabbing a finger in my direction. "Or I'll do it myself."

Before Mattheo could respond, the room fell silent. A Slytherin seventh-year, Adrian Pucey, stood on a nearby table, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hold on there, Spinnet ," he boomed, his voice cutting through the tension. "This year, we're doing something a little different… a play!"

A cheer erupted from the Slytherins, many of them eager for a change from the usual prank wars. Mattheo , however, remained unconvinced. He narrowed his eyes at Adrian, suspicion etched on his face.

As the play began, I couldn't help but notice the similarities between my name and the name of the girl portrayed in the story. It didn't take long for me to realize that the play was about a jinxing girl, and it described in vivid detail everything I had confided in Mattheo about my family and my troubled past at the lake that night.

Panic clawed at my throat. I stole a glance at Mattheo, but his face was a mask. He reached out a hand towards me, but I flinched back instinctively .

The room fell silent, every eye glued to me and the unfolding drama.

Onstage, the actress portraying me continued, her voice dripping with drama. "…driven by ambition, she stole her brother's place, but a terrible curse followed. Wherever she goes, misfortune befalls those around her. She's the jinx girl, a harbinger of bad luck!"

A collective gasp rippled through the room. Whispers erupted like flames, spreading fear and suspicion. I felt them scorching my skin, their judgment a suffocating weight on my chest.

Suddenly, a new scene unfolded on stage. A group of actors, portraying Hogwarts students, stood center stage. "Here's the dare," boomed one, a mock sense of bravery in his voice. "The boy who approaches the jinx girl and brings her to the party… wins!"

Suddenly, a commotion arose from the back of the room. Enzo and Theodore Nott , their faces grim, pushed their way through the crowd towards the makeshift stage. "Stop this!" Enzo said, his voice laced with fury. "This is out of line, Pucey!"

The actors scrambled off the stage, bewildered and slightly scared. The common room dissolved into chaos. Accusatory whispers turned into heated arguments. Pity and fear flickered in averted gazes. I even overheard someone mutter, "Did she really kill her brother?"

The roar of the party faded behind me as I sprinted down the Slytherin common room's hidden corridor, tears stinging my eyes despite my desperate efforts to hold them back. Mattheo's voice calling after me, pleading, only fueled my desperate need to escape.

"Y/N, please!" he shouted, but I ignored him, my feet pounding a relentless rhythm against the cold stone floor.

"Y/N!" he called again, his voice closer this time. Panic surged through me, lending me fresh bursts of energy.

Just as I reached the portrait leading out to the dungeons, a strong hand clamped onto my arm. I spun around, ready to lash out, but it was him – Mattheo, his face etched with a desperate worry I'd never seen before.

He tried to reach for my hand, but I recoiled violently. "Don't you dare touch me!" I screamed, my voice raw with hurt and betrayal.

He flinched, his hand hovering awkwardly in mid-air. "Y/N, love, just hear me out," he pleaded.

"Love?" I spat the word back at him, incredulous. "Don't call me that." The weight of everything that had just happened crashed down on me. The staged play, the public humiliation, the sickening realization that it had all been a dare.

"It's not what it seems like," he stammered, trying to explain. "I—"

"You what?" I interrupted, my voice rising. "It was all a lie, wasn't it? "

"No, no, I swear," he said urgently. "Everything that happened between us was real. My feelings for you…" His voice trailed off, his eyes pleading for me to understand.

But the damage was done. The carefully constructed trust – it had all crumbled to dust in the face of this cruel betrayal.

"Don't," I choked out, tears finally spilling down my cheeks. "Don't lie to me anymore."

A sob escaped my lips, and despite the anger burning within me, a part of me ached for the connection I thought we shared.

"Just give me a chance to explain," he pleaded, but I shook my head, unable to bear the sight of him anymore.

The truth, however distorted, was clear. "Wouldn't you deny it was a dare?" I challenged him, a flicker of defiance sparking in my tear-filled eyes.

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. For the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine pain cross Mattheo's usually guarded features.

"No," he finally admitted, and I felt a wave of numbness wash over me.

As I turned to walk away, he continued, "It was at first, but I swear that from that night at the Broomsticks, everything was real. I even forgot about that stupid dare. Everything that happened between us was real, you know that."

I scoffed, wiping angrily at my tears. "I don't know anything anymore," I said.

"Foolish me. That's why you didn't want Charlie to talk to me that day, wasn't it? Because he was going to expose you?"

""No, Y/N, I just didn't want you to get hurt __“

"You what?" I cut him off again, my voice trembling with fury. "How generous of you," I said sarcastically. "But look, you win now, Riddle. Won't you go celebrate? It was their dare,"

"I don't care about anyone else but you," he said fiercely.

I stared at him, incredulous. "Then why does it feel like you care about everything else more than me right now?"

He took a hesitant step forward, but I didn't back away this time. I met his gaze head-on, my heart a tangled mess of emotions.

"I can't lose you," he whispered, his voice filled with desperation.

"You already have," I said, the words like shards of glass in my mouth. I wanted to hurt him, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain I was experiencing.

"I ___ i love you," he confessed, the words hanging heavy in the air.

Love. The very word felt like a mockery.

I looked him straight in the eye, my voice surprisingly calm despite the storm raging within me. "And I hate you, Mattheo Riddle," I said, each word laced with the bitter taste of betrayal.

With that final declaration, I turned away, leaving him standing alone in the darkened corridor, the portrait swinging shut behind me.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅

[ode2rin]

petty!rin is so baby girl i love writing him as much as i love clingy!rin | warnings: profanity and lil ooc | mentions of food

itoshi rin, likes to believe that he is one rational man. 

he truly is. he is a man grounded with rationality, the real definition of calm and quiet. he prides himself on his ability to be stoic and composed at all costs.

he is one to be blunt, approach what’s wrong head on with his words that bleeds. never to cower, never one to hesitate. 

truly indeed, itoshi rin is a rational man.

so, why the fuck is he in the kitchen, tightening all jars that he could see?

apparently, when rin is faced with the seemingly impossible mission of getting you to talk to him after a small (he thinks so) disagreement, all rationality goes out the window.

suddenly, he finds himself overcome with a desperate need to hear your voice, to mend whatever rift has come between you. and so, he does the only thing he can think of at this point: he heads to the kitchen.

there, he methodically tightens every jar he can find, each twist of the lid a small act of rebellion against his own calm demeanor. he puts your favorite snacks up high on the shelf, just out of reach, hoping that you'll come to him for help.

on a normal day, rin would never do this. this is nothing but a foolish, incredibly ridiculous, absurd plan. he would never do something like this, but he exhausted every rational option he had at his disposal. he already asked you if you wanted takeout (you just looked at him, you never say no to takeout), asked if you knew where his cleats were because he couldn't find them (of course he knows where they are), and his last resort was to play your favorite show in the living room in the hopes that you'd join him on the couch.

nothing worked. zero successful attempts. nada.

you are officially ignoring him for 5 hours and 36 minutes (not that he’s counting, the wall clock in the living room is just obnoxiously big for its purpose and it keeps reminding him of the time, yup, that must be it). 

and rin thinks if this goes on for much longer, you might suggest sleeping in the guest room out of stubborness. no, rin thought of the idea. 

there’s no way in hell would rin sleep away from you. that’s just vile torture in his book. a cold ass bed without you? sleep without you in his arms? (he might genuinely prefer to be locked in a room with shidou than have that). that is atrocious, he needs to prevent that from happening, or else he would really lose it.

seemingly content with his scheme, rin places himself on one of the bar stools at the kitchen countertop to wait, boring holes into the bedroom door you've isolated yourself in. if this doesn't work, pinning you down until you utter a word to him may be the next best (worst) option.

after what felt like an eternity (it was ten minutes, max) to rin, you finally emerged from your shared bedroom with a purpose, and that is to fill your grumbling stomach. making your way in the kitchen, you ignored how rin is intently watching every step you make. 

you open one of the cupboards to get your leftover bag of chips from yesterday, only to be met by an empty shelf. looking up, you see the said chips placed two shelves higher than usual. 

when did that even get there?

hastily, you reached out for a stool to reach it. rin can’t help but let out a silent huff at the sight of you standing on a stool. that stool must be fucking with him, because why is it conveniently there? 

rin shifts expectantly on his seat when he sees you looking for the jar of dip you always combine with your chips. and the heavens must be siding with him as he sees you annoyed and struggling to open the said dip.

“let me.”

you were about to deny his offer when you felt his chest already pressing on your back as he reached out for the culprit of your annoyance.

“thanks.” you timidly uttered, but rin didn’t move an inch from where he was pressing on you.

instead, rin tentatively wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to your temple. you felt the side of his jaw on your temple, his other hand rubbing smooth circles on your shoulders, tapping on it three times.

you shut your eyes tightly at the feel of his touch, "rin," you started, but you didn't know how to continue. 

“i know. i was in the wrong,” he trailed off, tapping three times once again on your exposed collarbone as if the gesture was a language you two only understand, “i’m sorry, y/n,” he said, voice laced with remorse.

you looked over your shoulder to meet rin's gaze. his eyes were soft, and his expression held a hint of guilt that you rarely saw. he seemed to be waiting for your response, and you took a deep breath before answering.

“i only want what's best for you, rin. seeing you exhaust yourself like that hurts me,” you explained, turning to face him and resting your hands on his chest. “and i'm sorry for being immature and ignoring you. it wasn't the right way to handle things.”

immature? only if you knew.

he tightened his grip on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “i hate it when we fight," he mumbled, his voice muffled. “it hurts when you don’t look at me.”

taken aback by rin's confession, you struggled to find the right words to alleviate what you’ve done. instead, you tapped three times in his chest, right where his heart beats.

in which you earned a - “not more than i do,” reply from rin, suggesting he understood.

“as you should, rinnie.” you replied with a playful teasing smile.

ah, there it was - the smile rin loved so much. the smile that always promises him that it will be fine - you two will be fine.

if it meant earning that smile over and over again, rin wouldn’t mind throwing out every ounce of rationality from his body. 

he’ll never tell you about it though, you’d tease him to death. besides, if you knew, how could he use the same scheme again?

note. i love this trope in books so much that it's everything i think of lately (˘･_･˘)

[messiahzzz]

i have seen several posts around that addressed how discouraging gale from taking the crown of karsus is “keeping him from realizing his true potential.” that tara is merely upset at his choice, instead of being utterly devastated at the loss of her little love. that it’s not a bad ending per se because to get there he didn’t need to sacrifice 7000 innocent souls in the process. gale isn’t continuing the cycle of abuse either, he still appears to love tav and does come back for them to offer them ascension. he wants them to be equal, so it can’t possibly be an unhealthy dynamic, right?

but what of gale himself, his own convictions, values, and everything he holds dear? everything flawed and human that shaped him into the person he is?

player: are you saying you want to ascend? claim godhood?

gale: no, not like that. i don't want to join them. i want to better them. a god's powers, paired with a mortal conscience, a mortal heart.

gale’s motivation for acquiring godhood is that he will able to aid mortals in a way no other god has ever done before. he won’t hide behind pretense nor require blind devotion of his followers. he will understand and be able to empathize. he wholeheartedly believes that he will be different - he will act.

gale: [..] the gods could aid us if they wished, but instead they cower behind ao. so let us act ourselves.

gale believes that by becoming a god he will kill two birds with one stone: aid mortals and acquire enough power to quash any of his insecurities and enemies in the process. that by ridding himself of every perceived flaw he'll finally feel like he will have enough to offer - maybe, just maybe he'll even be content. his flaws are merely holding him back from becoming the best version of himself, and by ridding himself of everything fallible, he will be whole. maybe this is what all of his suffering has led up to. maybe the orb chose him. maybe the reason he had to endure all the pain, isolation, and excruciating loneliness was so that he could realize that he was meant for something even greater. after all, power feeds ambition. and what is more powerful than a god? his convictions were certainly naive, he possesses enough knowledge to know better. don't get me wrong, part of him definitely wants to spite mystra a lil. but his intentions at that time were mostly pure. a reflection of his self-hatred and feelings of inadequacy.

player: this is wrong, gale. that power will corrupt you, even if you can seize it.

gale: it won't, i swear to you. it's merely a tool - a means to an end.

once we meet gale at the party in his new godlike form, it is apparent that even with all the power at his fingertips, he has reached no greater knowledge about himself. his insecurities are still as present as before, he merely is less subtle in his compensation - repeatedly highlighting his grandeur and how dull life on faerun is compared to the wonders of elysium. it is also genuinely crushing to see how little he thinks of himself even now.

gale: i was nothing. a drifting dust mote of a wizard, abandoned by my goddess, my powers lost, my reputation destroyed. and look at me now. i'm their proof.

any perceived dismissal of his Greatness™ is met with immediate disdain.

gale: a bold decision to treat a divine being with such cold indifference.

nodecontext: aloof, annoyed you weren't impressed with him

gale: you mortals do love to live dangerously, don't you?

nodecontext: the slightest hint of a threat - you've probably made an enemy here today. or at least, you've lost a friend.

he is still desperate to impress. emphasizing what an honor it is that a new-born god chose to bless their little soiree with his presence. gaze upon all his divine glory! gale has now become the embodiment of everything he criticized about the gods. his original intentions and plans are discarded and long forgotten. he assuages his erstwhile companions by telling them to simply pray to him, in case they should ever require aid. if they're lucky and their ambition pleases him, he might even deliver.

player: what does the 'god of ambition' offer to his followers?

gale: i 'offer' them nothing. i inspire them to seize their destinies for themselves.

player: interesting, so you help mortals help themselves?

gale: precisely. though that isn't to say i'm averse to the odd bit of direct encouragement.

gale: [..] my aims are set a little higher than offering cursory blessings to just any half-decent spellcaster.

gale: regardless, ethical quandaries are more the remit of my mortal devotees. they do love to talk, and faerun is starting to listen.

aiding "any half-decent spellcaster" is unbefitting of his status. he isn't concerned with questions of ethics and morality either. deeming such matters beneath his divine capabilities.

once gale has ascended and established his domain, what remains of the gale we knew? what of his mortal heart?

minthara: your ambition is not cruel, but you fear that if you indulge it, you will lose yourself in the mysteries of the weave and unravel the world.

minthara: you are afraid of so many things, and it is that fear that keeps you true to yourself.

gale did lose himself and ultimately became one of his biggest fears. considering that his existence as a being of pure ambition leads him to constantly seek out greater heights, it isn't farfetched to believe that raphael's prediction will indeed come true.

player[astarion]: ambition? finally, a god i can get behind...

gale: i assure you, this is merely the prelude to a far grander vision. elysium's in for something of a shake-up.

all that remains of gale is a thin veneer of the person he used to be. what he presents is a hollow echo of the old gale. he does retain some of his mannerisms and quirks, but he is definitely a lot colder and more condescending. if his personality already changed that drastically after a duration of only 6 months, what will he inevitability turn into when he has eternity at his disposal?

essentially, you are aiding gale in the eradication of himself. eradicating everything about him that made him into the loveable, charismatic, awkward, kind, buoyant person he was. everything about him that he perceived as defective, flawed, and lesser-than. before, his hubris was merely an expression of his own discontentment and low self-worth, but now he is hubris incarnate. all of his worst qualities have been amplified.

gale: i am ambition incarnate. as indistinguishable from that most potent sensation as mystra herself is from the weave. and word is spreading.

nodecontext: palpable, almost unsettling excitement from him - hint of megalomania

he put his trust in tav, trusting their judgment and relying on them to nudge him in the right direction. after all, they had plenty of opportunities to show him that they are an ally worth following and confiding in. but in the end, the prospect of what he could be, the things he could give them, the enemies he could yet conquer, won over the desire to simply accept him and help him rebuild a life on solid ground. tav denied him the unconditional love he craves most out of their own selfish desires.

tara: you were looking out for him. i expected better of you.

as i've already mentioned, gale desires nothing more than to be seen, accepted, loved, and valued. having a partner who wholeheartedly supports and believes in him is enough to make him feel content. most importantly - he just wants to live. to enjoy life with everything it has to offer. his ambition can’t be quenched because he hungers still. believing that only by acquiring more power will he finally be enough and reach said acceptance.

we see in his good ending that his own contentment was even able to influence and (temporarily) sate the orb's ever-present hunger:

gale: [..] or perhaps the orb's hunger was fuelled by my own, and my contentment influences it in much the same way.

gale: that's how i feel with you - content. it's a rather unfamiliar feeling, i must say. not something gale of waterdeep ever craved.

it is devastating that he doesn't reach the same feeling of fulfillment if he chooses to pursue godhood, and is instead compelled to continuously surpass his own accomplishments. not being granted rest or reprieve.

gale: i achieved everything we hoped i would, and still i'm not good enough for you?

gale pursuing godhood isn't evidence that he "has been evil all along" or that he "just waited to be unleashed" either. we can't diminish tav's influence in this outcome, they are after all an extension of the player. able to steer every companion toward a path of redemption or to enable them in their worst traits. fandom has already established that by letting astarion ascend you are actively supporting him in becoming the very thing he despises most, putting your own ambitions and idea of what you want him to be above his healing, this is no different.

tara: the gale i knew wasn't like this. he recognised his mistakes. he was contrite. all he wanted to do was live.

tara: unfortunately, he fell into company that turned his gaze towards foolishness. yes, i mean you.

player: gale is his own man, tara.

tara: false. he was mine. though now he belongs only to his own pride.

yes, the epilogue cutscene is beautiful and there is something bittersweet and romantic about his love for tav being one of the few emotions that remained a constant throughout the past 6 months. he didn't need to come back for them, but he did cause he loves them still. no matter how warped his definition of love may be now. while it is abundantly clear that tav ranks lower on his priority list than they did before, his commitment remains.

gale fears isolation, hoping to never return to the time when he was hopeless and alone, stuck inside his tower. by heading in this direction he is once again creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.

tara: [..] if i pretended you hadn't turned tail on every lesson you set out to learn, i'd have no right to call myself your friend.

morena may as well have already resigned herself to her son’s death. elminster partly blames himself. for his lapse in judgment, as well as being the one who plucked him from obscurity in the first place. mourning the kind, bright-eyed boy who cried at the scorched roses in his neighbor's garden. tara won't be here anymore to care and look out for him either. he has lost his oldest and dearest friend, the one who witnessed his downfall from grace and never left his side. who believed him to be the finest mind AND the finest wizard she's ever had the pleasure to know. who was certain that he’d find a way out of any crisis no matter the circumstances. ...and if tav declines his offer to ascend with him? what does he have left?

gale: yes, i am rather radiant, aren't i?

tara: don't flatter yourself, gale. you've debased yourself in ways i could never have fathomed.

tara: goodbye gale, i hope the heavens are worth it.

gale’s godhood ending deals with the loss of humanity, the loss of oneself, and everything one holds dear. it is a devastating and bone-chilling narrative. it is a tragedy.

gale: i hope you don't think less of me. great ambition should not come at the expense of what you already hold dear. i see that now.

if gale could see himself, he would be horrified at the losses he deemed necessary to get here. he would be horrified at what he’s become.

[artiststarme]

Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a proper night’s rest. It had to have been before Vecna started haunting people’s dreams that made the entire Party afraid to close their eyes. Before Max fell into a painful coma and Eddie succumbed to bat bites in the Upside Down. Maybe prior to Spring Break completely, before the Russians under Starcourt and the demodogs and demogorgons. Maybe before his parents became too disappointed in him, before they started punctuating their disgust in him with well-aimed fists. Perhaps he’d never had a restful sleep at all, he couldn’t remember anymore.

But ever since his eyes had landed on the bloody form of his new friend surrounded by carcasses in the desolate trailer park, he couldn’t sleep a wink. Whenever he tried to rest, he imagined the pain Eddie must have gone through (he knew how those teeth felt as they gnawed through thick layers of flesh). He thought of how they had been forced to leave his body down there to rot, how alone Eddie must have been in his final moments. He could vividly picture Eddie’s last breath and gurgling pain every night in his nightmares. Steve would snap awake every night, gasping for air and jumping at shadows.

For weeks, he isolated himself. He only went to work and back and even that was taken away from him once he dozed off at the counter on one of his shifts with Keith. Without Robin there to gently wake him up and cover for him, he lost his job then and there. Without anything to drag him out of the house, he began spending every minute cowering from his own thoughts. He couldn’t sleep at night and he would hallucinate during the day. He’d see shadow figures in the corner of his eye, hear distorted screeches and screams of pain. On the bad days, he’d even hear Eddie’s voice amidst the chaos.

Steve thought he’d lost his mind.

After so many years of dealing with the impossible, the craziness had caught up with him and poisoned his mind. Or maybe Vecna had finally caught by up to him. Had he finally decided to stop targeting teens in high school to move onto more traumatized targets (i.e., Steve)? Unfortunately, he couldn’t find it in himself to care either way.

He never expected his new turned dead friend to shake his shoulder gently to wake him up from a nightmare. Steve jerked awake to find soft brown eyes staring at him in concern.

His reaction was completely valid. He screamed his head off.

Steve screamed and cried as the Hallucination Eddie’s eyes widened in fear before frantic shushing and spastic hand waving began.

“Shh! Harrington, Jesus H. Christ, calm down. Holy shit, I thought you’d be the calm one. Calm down, please god.”

When his throat finally lost its ability to scream, he took a good look at Eddie. His eyes were dull, shadows bruised his face, and his skin was far paler than Steve had ever seen. New scars marred his cheek and lower jaw right where the bats had gnawed.

Was… was he really here?

“Eddie?”

The man in question beamed in response, “I see we’re on a first name basis now, Stevie. If I knew this was all I had to do, I would’ve almost died a long time ago!”

Steve threw himself forward into Eddie’s arms and ignored both his own aches and pains and Eddie’s oomph of surprise.

“You’re not going to be here in the morning, are you?” Steve whispered into the crook of his neck.

Eddie’s shaky hand latched onto Steve’s shoulder to deepen the hug. “Hell Steve, I’ll never leave you again if you’ll have me.”

Steve fell asleep in Eddie’s arms and when he woke up, he was curled against the warmth of his chest with a cold towel on his forehead. It hadn’t been a dream after all. Eddie had saved himself and had come to Steve’s. From that day forward, Steve had Eddie. He made the days meaningful and the nights restful, just as they always should have been.

[thecuriousquest]

Everything has a Price

Bisexual & Poly Yan!TodoBakuDeku x Fem!Reader

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug @palesweetscherryblossom

Warnings: Yandere themes, SFW, implied kidnapping, isolation punishment, neglect, starvation, conditioning, bisexual & polyamorous TodoBakuDeku, dominant behavior, aggressive behavior, I don’t know how frostbite works

Master List

Request Rules

—————————————————————————

You realized fairly early on how to piss off your captor’s individually and combined.

If you want to upset Izuku, all you have to do is throw a tantrum. Cry, scream, kick, throw things. But you can’t stop even when he’s trying to calm you down. You have to bite the bullet, fight your declining energy because if you give in then it won’t work. You have to wail and flinch every time he tries to touch you, console you. If you do this long enough, he’ll end up in tears of frustration and sadness because you’re sad and he doesn’t know how to make you feel better.

If you want to piss off Bakugou, all you have to do is seem disinterested in anything he has to say. Every time he kisses you, you have to kiss him back and then look him dead in the eyes and say, “I’ve had better.” If he hugs you with a little squeeze, ask him, “Are you not going to the gym as much anymore? You feel a little weaker now.” Always talk to him with a lack of excitement. It will infuriate him.

Todoroki is a different story. He’s very unique compared to your two very sensitive captors. Not a lot of things piss him off. Throwing tantrums doesn’t work, and acting disinterested in anything he has to say or show you doesn’t help because he will just shrug it off and read a book or something. No, you have to hit him where it hurts the most. You have to do this one out of the blue. You can’t be arguing with him, you can’t be having a conversation with him before you say this. While he’s watching tv, tell him, “You remind me of your father,” and then don’t follow up with an explanation.

It will eat at him. He’ll sit there, wondering what you meant. He’ll try to ask you about it, but you just shrug and go back to whatever it is you were doing. He doesn’t get any sleep that night or for the remaining nights that week. It doesn’t work if you do it too often so space it out.

This is how you individually piss them off, though. Collectively, you have to target one of them when they’re all together. Don’t show favoritism. You have to verbally berate one of them in front of all of them, and it works even better if you attack Bakugou.

Deku loves his Kachan, and Shoto is pretty defensive of his boyfriend. Now all of them are mad, and you’re feeling very smug at having riled them up.

———

However, you never expected things to turn out the way they do when you suddenly find yourself thrown into an empty shed in the dead middle of winter. Bakugou pushes you in with a nasty snarl grazing his lips. He points a stern finger at you as you cower in the corner.

“Alright, bitch, we’ve all had enough of your fucking shitty behavior! You want out? You’re gonna learn to appreciate what we give you in that house, and you won’t step foot inside until you do.”

The ash blonde slams the door shut behind him as he walks out. You hear a bunch of locks click from the outside.

So, here you are in a sweater and jeans, curled up in a corner, trying to fight off the winter air nipping at your goosebump covered flesh. You’re very grateful for your fuzzy socks. You curl your toes, hoping to gather some warmth.

You can see your own breath in the dim lighting of the shed.

The sun slips in and out of the sky over the course of two days. You’re only allowed this view because of a very small window, not one you can crawl through. You could probably only stick your hand outside if you broke it. However, you don’t need anymore problems.

Stomach growling, shivering with the frost bitten air, you bring your knees up to your chest and hide your face in the warmth of your elbow. If you hadn’t made them so angry so often, they wouldn’t have stuffed you in here. Rebuking yourself for your situation is all you can do, and it reduces you to whimpers and sniffles.

The door opens, and you see Katsuki’s boots stomp inside. He throws a bowl of rice at you. Cocking his elbow back, sending it towards your feet, and letting the plastic bowl crash. The grains spill everywhere by your sock-covered toes, but it’s the only warmth you’ve gotten over the last few days.

Before you can even say anything, the door is closing, and you can hear him stomp through the snow on the way back to the house.

Gathering up as much rice as you can, you hold it in your numb fingers, letting the steam soak into the pads of your digits. You only eat it once the food turns cold.

Bakugou, Todoroki, and Midoriya keep you like this for what you feel like is two weeks. You’ve only been able to stave off frostbite due to the warm meal you get once every two days along with the hot bottle of water thrown at you every morning. Bakugou is always the one delivering these things to you because you know if you started crying to the others, they would just bring you back inside. He never says anything to you, tuning out your pleas for mercy.

He walks inside the shed with no water or rice to give you, and you clutch your angry stomach. Katsuki tilts his head at you, analyzing you, trying to determine what’s going through your head.

“There’s a nice breakfast inside waiting for you. All warm and fresh. You want it?”

You nod, keeping your nose hidden in the crook of your elbow.

“Alright then. Beg.”

Sitting on your knees, you beg just like the explosion hero taught you.

“I’m so sorry I was bad, Master. I won’t do it ever again. I’ll be good now. I swear, I’ll be good. Please, can I go inside and eat? Please, please, Master?”

He runs his fingers through your hair, ruffling your scalp slightly. “That’s a good girl. You gonna stop pissing us off?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Come on then.” He picks you up, one arm under your back and the other under your knees. He takes you inside the house, and you feel the dramatic change in temperature instantly.

Shoto walks up to you, moving a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Breakfast is on the table, Snowflake.”

“What do you have to say to IcyHot and the nerd?”

You look down at your hands. “I’m sorry I was so bad. Thank you for letting me come back inside.”

“It’s alright, Bunny! I’m just glad you’re going to be a good girl now.” Izuku kisses you on the head, and you don’t move away from him this time.

Leaning your head on Bakugou’s chest, he takes you into the kitchen before setting you on a chair.

You begin eating, thinking about how everything has a price. Apparently, pissing them off has one as well.

[meyousing]

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞, 𝐭𝐨 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you’re a delinquent--blade's sworn enemy--who has been captured by none other than blade himself, and the price you must pay to him is unlike any other you had before.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: yandere blade x reader, nsfw, non-con, mentions of death but no actual death, hes so fucking sexy, edited but could be done better I'm just excited to post this bc he's so mmmm. sexual nsfw under the cut as always <3

The inevitability of this day was something you wished to delay, but you always knew it would come to this. Fumbling your escape and landing in the captivity of your sworn enemy and his fellow hunters made it that much worse, nearly embarrassing. The dark smugness in his eyes, as he watched your hunched form be rounded up by Kafka, was dehumanizing. You tried to tune her voice out as she spoke to the others who had been captured at your side, those who were seemingly more of her target than Blade’s since he continued to watch you and only you, while Kafka hardly spared you a glance. Your ears twitched upon hearing an instruction to follow her elsewhere; you were more than eager to be away from Blade to save yourself some pride, wasting no time as you took a grand step in the direction of the door. 

“Not you.” His voice was gruff and heavy beside your ear, you tried not to jump out of your skin as a firm hand reached through your hair and found itself on the back of your neck. The grip was not harsh, not painful, or muscle-cramping, but it was solidifying–literally grounding. It kept you in your place, reminding you of precisely who was in control because you knew you had nowhere else to go, your free will and autonomy robbed with something as simple as a touch. “Your punishment is of a different sort.”

The other prisoners led away by the ever-shrinking head of plum-toned hair only isolated you two further, a lump forming in your throat when the doors to this newfound prison cell closed behind Kafka, and you could no longer feel the previously dense presence. A room once full of four or more, is now only occupied by two. Only you, and Blade. 

You were nervous to speak. Not nervous to say the wrong thing, you felt no fear of angering him. You just knew that you were utterly fucked, and that it would be easier if you simply started things off yourself. You were only nervous to kick off the inevitable, be it death or endless torture. But waiting would only make things worse, this you also knew. Nerves be damned, it would be better to face your reprimand than to let anxiety fester. Did you really want your final moments to be ones where you cowered in fear? Did you really want to let Blade win, to have the last laugh?

“What’s my punishment? Stab wounds equal to my crimes committed?” it was blurted out, the shakiness of your voice making the words jumble together and be spoken too quickly, entirely giving away what state you were in. How embarrassing, how pathetic. 

A hoarse chuckle followed your pitiful little interrogation. 

“No.”

His hand slid down your neck and across your shoulders as he walked tantalizingly slowly to stand in front of you–between you and the door, signifying just how trapped you really were. Now you faced him with eyes in line with his chest, not daring to meet his gaze that still burned into and through you despite how willfully you ignored it. Thankfully, when he applied extra pressure to your shoulder and caused you to collapse onto your knees before him, you could at least stare down at his shoes and separate yourself from his immediate proximity that much more. Though this new position rattled you even further, you knew exactly what awaited you–

“–A beheading.” Your voice was an octave lower than normal, likely due to that persistent lump in your throat that slowly began to prevent you from being able to breathe properly now that reality was setting in. 

He had the nerve to laugh again. But his verbal confirmation of your guess didn’t come, instead, a physical one did–a frigid steel meeting with the side of your neck, instantly threatening the radiating heat of your skin with a chill. This was it. You wanted to say something more, tell him to get it over with and to stop prolonging the inescapable, yet paralysis held you beyond physicality. 

Your voice was entirely gone now, mind having abandoned cohesivity when scenes of your life began appearing within it, replaying all of your wrongdoings and emphasizing what exactly you had done to dishonour Blade and land yourself here in the first place. What an absolute fool you were, living for cheap thrills and delinquency, daring to enjoy the chases prior to your capture with the assumption of eternal freedom, the assumption that you would always outsmart Blade because he hadn’t caught you yet. Now that you were imprisoned, now that you were caught and met by the very sword that would deliver your demise within the grasp of the man you purposefully teased and evaded… you just wished you could start all over again. Maybe now you could; perhaps death would allow you to reincarnate into a soft and sweet animal, something like a small sparrow or a wild rabbit, so you could live your life primally and peacefully, with no games or deception. Simply fulfilling your life's purpose as nature intends.  

The pressure was suffocating, it felt as though the sharpness only carved deeper into your flesh, leaving you with a memorable scar before you were completely decapitated. Gradual ringing invaded your ears as you swallowed hard and tried to conceal your fear, hands beginning to shake as you weakly brought them to meet behind your back, taking on a more honourable position to maintain some semblance of dignity in your last moments. 

Last moments. 

You weren’t ready to die. Not yet. You had wasted so much precious time being such an idiot, you knew that there was more to life than that, you couldn’t die now– 

The sound of a button coming undone followed by the shrill peal of a zipper being pulled down nullified the chaos of your thoughts in an instant. The ringing you once heard had faded out, a newfound deafening silence making the room feel awfully heavy around you. You were unable to control the wandering of your eyes as they panned up to see Blade’s free hand at the front of his pants, nudging them down until they scrunched at his upper thighs. 

His lips slowly turned up in a devilish smirk, one you could see clearly in your periphery even as you quickly cast your eyes back down in a panic, breaths becoming heavier to compensate for the rapidly increasing beats of your heart. You truly wished that your basic common sense was lesser, that you were an idiot in more ways than the one that brought you to your current position so you couldn’t tell exactly where this was headed. 

He couldn’t possibly be planning to do something so vile with you. 

A sudden swishing sound made you gasp, a quick flash of light before your eyes made them widen as the weapon that was once at your neck was now tipped against the ground in front of you, parallel with your alignment. The sway of your clothes followed the movement with a slight delay, and the newfound cool air hitting the skin of your torso let you realize that he had sliced your shirt; now it hung pathetically off of your shoulders and was nearly exposing the more intimate area of your chest. Instinctively, your hands moved before your thoughts could form as you tried to pull it back up, to prevent it from falling off entirely and cover what little remained of your dignity. 

“Stop.” Now the tip of his sword hit your chin, nicking it slightly as he added force behind the touch to tilt your head up, giving you no other option than to stare up at him. You winced, heat flooding the small wound as it began to bleed. With hands frozen in front of you following his command, you could only squeeze your eyes shut to try and shrink in on yourself, feeling the material of your severed shirt brush down your arms as it slid, resting at the curves of your elbows. 

You heard him exhale heavily as your breasts were now exposed, you were trying to control the way your body began to tremble; knowing that he would feel the vibrations of it through his sword if you didn’t calm down. Would your nerves only excite him further?

His rustling continued on, you refused to let your eyes peer open as desperately curious as they were to watch while he pulled his undergarments down to where his pants were, freeing himself from such confines. He let out a growl-like sigh and you assumed he had done so successfully, the sound of flesh rubbing against flesh letting you know that he began stroking himself. This sound made one of your eyes peer open instinctively to watch in bewilderment–was he really doing this now? This was how he got off? You regretted regaining vision immediately, the way his eyes remained so intensely trained on you, unblinking, sent something horrible through you. A disgusting rush of anticipation.

As eagerly as you wished to, you couldn’t deny your attraction to Blade. Of course, nobody had ever asked you about such an absurdity, but you couldn’t deny it even to yourself. As you feigned disgust, scrunched your nose up, and scowled at his lewd movements and the increasingly wet sound they began to make; the way his inky hair fell over his carmine eyes that seemed to glow beneath the strands, that simper which only seemed to widen more devilishly the clearer your confliction became to him, made you wholly weak. 

“Blade–”

“You don’t have permission to speak.” His words showed how stable his composure was in this state, no trembling or stuttering was to be heard. His fingers danced over his tip, running over his slit and the underside of his cock, causing him to release a hiss through his teeth. You swallowed hard and felt your nerves light up at the sound, attempting to take a deep breath that would allow your lungs to refill and not move enough for the steel to poke further into your skin. Thankfully though, Blade removed it from you and let it rest at his side instead. 

Relief did not last for very long at all, because he shuffled closer to you now, the tips of his shoes coming into contact with your knees. Being forced to keep your head up meant that he was now inches from your face, and you flinched back–but not away–when he abruptly held the heavy tip of his cock against your bottom lip, his skin tender and warm as he brushed it against you and smeared his precum over your lip like a gloss. 

“You know what to do.” 

With hidden inhibitions deciding to take over, your body acted on its own once your tongue darted out to get a taste of him. He chuckled in amusement, surely he was surprised by your immediate obedience, and it tapered off into a hum when you didn’t even bother to stop there, lips slowly wrapping around the shape of him to suck his tip into your mouth. His stance remained firm, not even thrusting in time with the light bobbing of your head, instead seeming to channel his focus into keeping his gaze locked on your every move; eyes hardly flitting as they switched from your own to your mouth. 

The rebellious feeling of adrenaline that tingled within as you put on your best performance was exhilarating. Even as your mind asked why you were so quick to obey your biggest enemy, you already knew why. You’d always wanted to get laid by him, always feeling your panties dampen when running away from him post-battle; thrilled by the bloodlust-induced look in his eyes as he watched you scamper off, while you were left to wonder what would happen if you accidentally tripped or stumbled and let him catch you sooner. Now you knew exactly what would happen, and you were so glad that it finally was. Could it be that the tension was mutual, or was he simply using you because you were right here? You needed to find out. 

As you slid your tongue along the underside of his shaft and squeezed your lips a little tighter, letting your cheeks hollow, Blade’s chest heaved and you could tell that it was a slip-up. 

“Enough.” He muttered the word, but his delivery did not make it any less firm and commanding. You were just getting started, disappointed to be stopped so soon, and embarrassment started to creep in when his expression didn’t show any sort of contentment from your service following his deep breath; if anything, he looked the complete opposite of content, brows furrowed in a way that seemed bored. Was the slip-up so impactful on his pride that he couldn’t show you some kind of appreciation? Before you could even gauge what he thought of you based on his body language, you were shoved by the shoulder off your knees and onto your ass, landing with a grunt on the cool concrete.

He mounted you quickly, though before your faces could get too close you were spun around and pressed down flat to your stomach, cheek squished against the ground. His fingers dug into your abdomen as he grabbed your hips and lifted them roughly, making quick work of your bottoms and exposing your wetness to the cool air sooner than you expected. Instinctively, you tried to move away to regain some dignity following the new vulnerability, but he felt your resistance and tightened his grip, making your muscles tense up, and a small “ow” left your lips even though it wasn’t actually enough to hurt. He seemed to have heard it, alleviating you by moving his hands to grab your own, holding them out and above your head as the tip of his cock prodded at your entrance, his hip bones sharp against your asscheeks. 

“This is the price you have to pay.”

The whine you let out as he pushed in was humiliating, biting your bottom lip to try and suppress it didn’t work very well as being filled so deeply right away was nothing short of delicious. Any pain brought by the initial push of his cock was immediately quelled and replaced with hot pleasure, made stronger by the way he pulsed inside of you every time your walls couldn’t help but clench around him. As you lifted your head to try and take in a breath to calm yourself, you felt Blade’s warm cheek press against yours, becoming impossibly closer to him in an act that was too tender. He hadn’t pulled out to make a full thrust just yet, instead taking his time in smothering you with his presence; breath too hot as it cascaded down your neck, body too large as it encapsulated yours entirely, so warm even through the many layers of his clothes–which reminded you of just how bare he had you by comparison. 

As his cock pushed deeper into your womb and his hair began to hang in your periphery, such a sensory overload caused you to forget about your current privileges. Or rather, lack thereof. 

“Blade, I–”

A hand left yours to grab your neck. 

“Your rebellion never stops, does it? Not even as I punish you” he bucked his hips like a reminder of what he was doing to you, poking sharply at your cervix and causing you to see stars for a moment, a silent moan croaking in your throat. He chuckled, and you felt the vibration of it against your back, through your torso. “What is it?” 

“Why?” it was strained, but you knew such a simple question needed no further explanation. He chortled once more, letting his fingers up slightly so he could stroke his thumb along the side of your neck. 

“Because,” He had started to rock his hips slowly and deeply as he spoke, effectively clouding your mind (perhaps purposefully) and causing his next words to only half register; “I’ve always liked you.” 

Then he pulled out completely, giving you a brief moment of pause before rutting into you hard, making you gasp for air as he started with a pace that showed no mercy while he held you completely still, locked in place so he could fuck you how he pleased; fast and like a brute. 

“Always such a minx, don’t think that I never noticed how you looked at me. I know you like me too, you want this.” His grip on your neck slid higher up so he could tilt your head back, darting his tongue out to lick and then nip at your skin. “Though the real question that I have is, for how long have you wanted this?” 

A semblance of annoyance began to sprout within you, it would fully fester if he really expected a response when it was clear that you were in no state to answer, and not just because of your restricted airway. Your legs began to shake with every stroke, your pussy was squeezing him tighter, forcing his thrusts to stay deep as you pulled him inside. All you could get out were small whimpers, hardly forming syllables. He had to have understood what he was doing to you, but he managed to seem displeased with your receptiveness to his movements, growling at your lack of anything comprehensive. 

“It appears this repercussion has become more of a reward.” He pulled out of you so soon, halting all motions and causing you to release a cry of protest, turning your head to see where he was going as he lifted himself off of your back, though he forced you to stay arched for him, taking his hand off of your neck in favour of pushing your head down to the floor, disallowing you from seeing him at all. “You can’t even answer a simple question, so why should I continue to reward you?”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, tears actually forming in your eyes because it felt so good to be filled up by him that you were mourning the loss of such delectation. His fingers tangled through your hair and he lifted your head with a fistful. He leaned forward to keep his voice by your ear and you could feel his cock brush against your inner thighs as he did, making your legs twitch in desperation.

“That still isn’t an answer.” 

“I’ve wanted this since the day we met!” you sobbed, the words slurred as you subconsciously pushed your hips back against him, unable to wait any longer. His form remained solid, allowing you to writhe and squirm like an insect as he kept you right under his thumb. If he was smart enough to know that taking pleasure away from you would get him what he wanted, you feared that he already knew what your answer was going to be and only did this to torture you. 

Silence ensued. Barely any response on his part, frustrating you even further and bringing even more tears to your waterlines. 

“I know.”

Your body jumped in delight when you felt something finally move in to soothe the ache in your core. Blade swirled the tip around your pussy lips and you were expecting him to pick up where he left off, though upon feeling an extreme precision behind the movements of whatever just entered you, you realized that he was fingering you–it had been his fingertips that were teasing you at first, but now he was knuckle deep, fingers crossing and prodding over your sweet spot with terrifying accuracy. You suppressed a squeal when he used his middle and index to push down against it, making a pulsing motion. Each pulse made your muscles twitch and soft, breathy moans escape you. You missed the feeling of his cock rubbing against your walls, though the incredible accuracy that he managed to deliver with his hand made up for it completely. 

“Improvement… but it seems I still have to work on you. Many prices to pay, indeed” he dared to let out a hoarse laugh, finding himself too funny as you were left a breathless mess on the ground below him, trying not to completely collapse as your body trembled. 

He started to pick up the pace then, pushing in harder and much faster now, forcing your pleasure to crest much sooner than you felt ready for. Your heart raced as your body lit up from zero to one hundred, you came with a loud cry and felt your orgasm squirt onto his hand before you could even try to control yourself. Blade cackled again, more boisterous this time as he matched his hand to the rhythm of your pussy throbbing around it, slowing more and more until you ceased all motions. 

What you hadn’t expected was for him to completely let go of you once you had settled down, your head almost thumped into the ground had you not braced yourself quickly enough, your hips falling with no grace as you lay limp and weak. Blurrily, you could see him standing up and tucking himself back into his pants, seeming to have already cleaned his hand (you could have sworn there was a newfound glimmer on his lips following this revelation, you didn’t have to guess what from). It took every last bit of strength you could muster to ask him a question that was just above a whisper:

“Where are you goi–”

“A Stellaron Hunter’s day of work is never truly over. I’ll be back for you later. Reflect on your actions for now” he cut you off.

That was all he had to offer before he strode to the door, opened it, and slid out swiftly, almost without a trace; had you not still been in such a state of disarray following the rapid orgasm you had just experienced by his hand, your mind full of nothing but Blade. With him so prevalent in your thoughts, you figured the best thing you could do right now was obey his command. Reflect upon what got you here, what an amazing result of your getting caught this was. You’d have done so intentionally and so much sooner had you known the lust was mutual.  

Fatigue set in quickly, your eyes fell closed and your breath slowed as soon as you were completely flat on the ground again. With your body tingling pleasantly from the aftershocks, you were able to slumber without any concern. None about where you would go from here, whether it would be with Blade or not, and if he would get you better accommodations or keep you in this cell like the prisoner you now were. Choosing to wear rose-coloured glasses would certainly benefit you in the long run, you couldn’t possibly know just how much of a prisoner Blade planned to keep you going forward.

© meyousing 2023. do not share/export my work on to any other platforms. do not translate my work. 

[meowhara]

Mafia!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader

tw : death (sorry), blood and violence, gun, isolation, manipulation, mentions of abuse, slight smut, a little bit of fluff ig (not between Miguel and reader, yet)

summary : freedom do come with cost, a cost of another's life on the line

a/n : I'm still alive, unfortunately.

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓮, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝔀𝓸, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

“I don’t think this is a great idea.” Lyla said as she sat on one of the cushions in Miguel’s office, busy with her phone. While Miguel himself is busy doing some paperwork. “What do you mean?” He looked at her with an annoyed expression then took off his reading glasses. She pointed towards the monitors in the corner of his office. A soft crying noise erupted from within the monitors as the screens remained dark and untouched.

It has been at least 24 hours after he isolated you in that room of his. You don’t even know if it’s day or night anymore as you can feel yourself starting to crumble away. Lying on the hard and cold concrete with tears wetting your face, your whole life starts to flash before your eyes. Memories of the past of how horrible your life has been begin to fill your mind. Will this be the kind of life you'll live until the end? To exist without any sense of freedom at all, making it all seem like a nightmare. But the nightmare has just begun.

The metal door creaks open slowly before Miguel enters, scanning the dark room just to find you cowering in the corner of the room. He kneels in front of you to meet your eyes, letting light illuminate the room so he will be able to take a look at your beautiful face. But you're too scared of him so you hide your face using your bunny ears to avoid his gaze.

"Have you learned your lesson, little one?" Your body quivers upon hearing his low and raspy voice. He moves your ears to the side then lifts your chin up with his finger. "I asked you a question." Seconds went by without you saying anything to reply to his question. He let out a 'tsk' sound before standing up and looking down at you with disdain, "You haven't learned anything have you? I guess you're going to stay here until you grow mold."

Just before he walks away from you he feels a tight grip around his leg. "No, please! Let me out! I'll do anything and— and I'll listen to you, I promise!" Your begging was like a melody to his ears, resulting in a slight smirk creeping up to his face in satisfaction. He got down to his knee once more with his hand caressing the side of your face. "You promise?" You nodded in response and nuzzled deeper into his touch to please him so he would release you from this hell hole. His smirk got even wider, "That wasn't so hard was it?" He unlocks the chain around your neck and offers you his hand to take. You hesitate for a bit before putting your hand in his.

He leads you upstairs into his bedroom while holding your hand tightly in his grip as if you're going to run away and escape from him again. He closed his bedroom door then cupped your cheeks just with one hand. He secretly loves the way your whole face fits in his massive hand. It makes him hard just from the size difference between you and him. How adorable it must be to have his cock buried deep inside you. All of those 'it won't fit' bullshit that would come out from your mouth just before he forces himself into you. To have you tear up like the cry baby you are and moan underneath him while he violates your tight hole with his cock. To have you submit to him and only him.

Just the thought of your body against his makes his mouth water, like a predator ready to devour its prey. But he must control himself and take this a little slower than he usually does. He clears his throat and puts those thoughts aside, "From now on I want you to listen and obey everything I told you to do. And don't even think of disobeying me, you know very well where you'll end up if you do. Understood, little one?"

You knew that you didn't have any other choice. It's either you obey him or try to resist and end up in that basement again for god knows how long. So you decided to nod, to listen to him for the time being until you found another way to escape from his grasp. "Is that a yes? Good." He lets go of your face before entering the bathroom that was connected to his bedroom. He started taking his clothes off with his back facing you, revealing his toned back muscles with lots of scars and a massive spider tattoo.

Your mind goes crazy as you think of how this will end up, not realizing how red your face has become. "Take your clothes off." He then enters the bathtub that was prepared for him to relax in. A loud exhale escapes his mouth as he relaxes all of his muscles, enjoying the relaxing sensation of the hot water against his skin. "Excuse me?”

"You heard me. Don't make me repeat myself." He warns, louder this time. You bite your bottom lip in worry before slowly taking your clothes off, presenting your bruised up body to him. His eyes trails over every inch of your body to savor the enchanting view in front of him. Those bruises on your body makes him desire you even more. If only he was the one who marked you and did all of that to you, not that asshole who abused you not long ago. You feel humiliated from how small he makes you feel. "That's my girl." He purrs then gestures to you to come closer to him. He lifts you off the ground so easily then places you on his lap with your back resting on his torso.

He feels pleased by your small frame sitting on his lap. He has found the missing piece that fills the emptiness inside of him. He enjoys always being in control and you let him control you as if you're nothing but his toy.

After a minute of silence of you sitting uncomfortably on his lap he notices your body quivers. He wraps his hands around your waist as a gesture to soothe you, pulling your body closer to his until there is no more space between the two of you. He brushes your hair to the side then starts kissing the side of your neck gently. "I've been wanting to do this with you the moment I lay my eyes on you." He said as he held you tighter in his arms.

He savors the way your soft skin brushes against his, the way your body flinches every time he tries to touch you. He pulls your face closer to his then starts kissing you passionately. Your eyes widen from his sudden kiss but you can't deny the way you melt under his touch. It doesn't take long until you return his kiss with your palms resting against his muscular chest. He breaks the kiss then looks down at your face with a hint of satisfaction. "You're mine, y/n. Mine and I'm never letting you go.”

After another 30 minutes of him forcing you to bathe with him, he gave you a new pair of clean clothes to wear. He even lets you enjoy dinner. Of course with him by your side. The night ended with you sitting on his lap (again). This time in his office where he usually does all his work. He even told Lyla to wait outside so she can't tease him for having you sitting on his lap like a pet for him. You started to think that maybe he has a thing for having someone to sit on his lap. But in reality the only reason why is because it's you. It gave him some sense of ownership knowing that he's able to have you within his grasp and knowing that he could do anything he desires to you.

You can feel a sense of relief washing over you as you relax your back against his torso. You somehow are able to feel a little bit calmer despite his presence. Maybe it's the fact that he hasn't done anything to hurt you, but you knew very well that he's capable of doing so. He just doesn't have any reason to do so, yet. Or maybe it's simply because you're exhausted. You started to feel tired, really tired. You didn't sleep at all yesterday when he isolated you in that basement of his. All the fear and panic you experienced for the past few days have taken a toll on you. Your eyelids felt heavy until you accidentally fell asleep.

Miguel didn't realize this at first, he even wondered why you hadn't shifted or moved at all on his lap. Until he looks down at you to find you sleeping peacefully. He felt bad for you, thinking that you must feel drained after everything that had happened so he carried you back into his bedroom then put you down on his bed before tucking you in.

Day after day went by but nothing changes the fact that you're still anxious with this new life of yours. Every single day the loud chirping noises of birds outside wakes you up from your slumber with you lying beside him. As his heavy hand rests around your waist, keeping you in place whenever you try to slip away from him.

Today is no different. Sitting in his living room while watching the TV to entertain yourself. You know that you should be grateful to the facilities and care Miguel has given to you since he met you. But the way he hurt and locked you up in that pitch black basement haunts you like a ghost. What if he's waiting for you to slip up and do something wrong then he'll make you end up back there all alone again? You never trusted him. No matter how nice his behavior is towards you, everything about him feels fake. You feel like a mere doll sticking by his side for him to play around and dress you up however he likes.

“What?!” Your ears flinched. His roar sounds like an echoing thunder from down the hallway. You peek your head out the living room to see what the fuss is about. Miguel stands tall in front of his subordinates with his brows furrowed in anger and frustration, his veins throbbing on his forehead. “How the hell did all of you let that slide?! Answer me!” They fall silent with eyes glued to the floor underneath pathetically like a group of whiny dogs scolded by their master. “We don’t know. It just happened.” One of them was brave enough to answer.

Somebody had successfully infiltrated his line of work. Burning his secret warehouses where he runs his illegal business one by one until there’s nothing left but ashes and killing countless of his men. He pulled the man who dared to speak back to him by his collar, lifting him off the ground with nothing but his bare hand. “Just happened?! They caused chaos on my property and that’s all you have to say?! Think again before you dare to disrespect me like that.” Miguel slammed the man to the nearest wall in rage. His body fell unconsciously to the ground with blood streaming down his head.

Your breath hitched in your throat upon seeing the man’s unconscious body lying on the floor. He doesn’t even hesitate to hurt anyone who upsets him, including the people who are loyal to him. His shouting continues, you tried your best to muffle the noise by pressing down your ears but it doesn’t help the aching feeling of fear in you. What if he hurts you next and takes all of his frustration to you? Multiple pieces of furniture were thrown in anger by him, breaking into pieces all across the room from how strong the impact is.

He dismissed his subordinates. Threatening them with their own life and safety if something like this ever happens again. His firm footsteps grew louder towards the living room as he tried to shake off the anger radiating from him. He took a deep breath before entering the living room, he just needed a break from all of this. The TV's still on with no one watching it and the leather couch where you were sitting is now empty. Panic and anger grew back inside him before he punched the wall in anger with his fist. “She fucking escaped again! That little—“ He cursed before running from the living room to look for you, jumping into his car before he drove off as fast as he could to catch up with you in case you ran off again like before.

Multiple men ran past the living room, trying to help their boss by tracking you down, preventing you from getting too far before one of them stopped in their tracks when he heard a faint whimpering noise. He scans the living room to find the source of sound before he finds a small erect tail poking out from the end of a curtain. It shivers and moves around shiftily.

He approaches the small ball of fur then peeked through the curtain to find you hugging your knees close to your chest with your back facing him. He didn't know what to do at first but he couldn't blame your instincts to run and hide when you feel like there's danger nearby. He decided to gently place his palm on your shoulder. You yelped and turned around in surprise, thinking that it's Miguel and he's about to hurt you but your eyes met with the stranger’s gray ones.

The stranger doesn't want to act too friendly to you at first, getting too attached to you means death by the merciless leader of the mafia. But he just needed you to comply this time so he could impress his boss by discovering you safe and sound inside his mansion when he thought that you had run away for the second time.

“Boss is looking for you.” He spoke with a gentle tone. You sat there, staring at him with your massive eyes. He sighed, knowing that this will be a lot harder than imagined. “He's not going to hurt you.”

“He is.” You insisted.

“He hurt you because he cares about you.”

“That's not an excuse to hurt me…”

“It is. Trust me.”

“Why should I?”

“Because the longer you hide the angrier he gets. You don't want him to hurt you, do you?”

You shook your head. Him hurting you is the last thing you wish to happen to you. Your eyes find his, contemplating whether you should listen to him or not.

“Fine.” You agreed before he helps you to get you back on your feet. You two stared at each other awkwardly until he cleared his throat and spoke to break the silence. “I'm Cain by the way.”

“Oh… Y/n.” You replied to the black hair man in front of you. He has never seen anything like you before. A woman with such a small build, massive eyes and fluffy ears falling to the back of her head in fear. You look almost petty and adorable at the same time.

“Y/n!” Miguel's voice echoed across the living room before he ran towards you. He hugs you tightly while breathing heavily. “Where have you been?!” He pulls away from the hug before shaking you furiously. “I thought you escaped!”

“I got scared of you so I hid behind the curtains… You're going to punish me aren't you?” You said meekly with eyes glued to the floor in shame, preparing yourself for what might come up ahead. He let go of you, “No. This one is on me. But if you dare to make me panic like that again by doing a stupid fucking thing like this, I will.”

Silence hung in the air as he stared down at you before Lyla interrupted. “Miguel, we're going to be late— What the hell is going on?”

“Nothing.” He stares sharply at you, his stare alone could bore a hole right through you. He kept staring at you, his eyes refusing to leave yours. “We really gotta go now or you're going to miss your flight.” She replied grumpily, she hates it when he uses that kind of sharp and aggressive tone towards her.

Earlier this morning, he was supposed to leave for a business meeting for a week. But your little scheme that you pulled off earlier prevents him from leaving, which obviously pushes him over the edge. “Let's go.” His eyes finally left yours as he walked out of the room. “Cain, watch over her. Watch over her like your life depends on it.” He paused then turned around to look at you, “And Y/n. Don't even think about running away, or you'll never see the light of the day ever again.”

And with that he left. The monster that has been terrorizing your mind for the past week has left. “Don't take him too seriously, he's just pissed.” Cain said casually to you before walking off.

Cain didn’t know you’re this quiet, sitting quietly on the living room couch with your eyes staring blankly on the wide screen. He kept his eyes on you and watched you for a while before talking, “Are you hungry? It’s already time for lunch.” You shook your head, a small ‘okay’ escaped his mouth before he left once again. ‘That’s it?’ you thought to yourself. Miguel would usually drag you with him into the dining room and force you to eat if you dare to refuse whatever he asked you to do.

Out of curiosity, you tail behind Cain. Following him without making any sound. He smiles softly to himself, he can feel your presence following him. You must be dumb enough to think that he wouldn’t notice you tailing him like a lost puppy. He entered the empty kitchen and started to wash and cut up some fruits.

“Need anything?” He kept that small smile plastered on his face from how cute you’re acting right now, his face facing away from you as he chopped the fruits so you couldn’t see his smile.

“Why didn’t you force me to eat when I refused to?” You asked with your head peeked into the kitchen.

“Well, do you want me to force you?”

“No.”

“Exactly. Therefore there is no need for me to do so.”

“But I am hungry.”

“I know.”

He walks towards you with a bowl of fruit prepared in his hand before looking down at you, “Are you ready to eat now?” You looked up at him and nodded. He let out a chuckle then ruffled your head gently. “Where do you want to eat?”

“I can choose where I want to eat my food?”

“Yes.”

“Then can I eat in the living room?”

To eat in the living room is a new experience since you start living in your captor’s house, but being able to decide something for yourself is the strangest thing ever. Cain's gray eyes never left your small form as you sat there on the other side of the couch.

“I can see why he likes you.”

“He doesn't.”

“He does. Very much. Too much for your own good.”

“Is it a bad thing that he likes me?”

“It depends. If you please him it's a good thing.”

You look down and start playing with your own food. “I'm scared…”

“I can tell. What do you say when we take a small walk in the forest? It helps me calm down when I'm stressed.”

“We can do that?”

“Not when Miguel's around.”

You can't just turn down the only opportunity for you to get outside so you agreed to come with him. He led you outside, through the back door then deeper into the forest. You couldn't lie but to feel amazed, you've never been into a forest before. Your former master's house was in a secluded area of a forest but you were never allowed to go outside, not even a step out of his house.

Your eyes widen in amazement as you watch the scenery in front of you, massive trees stand tall with sun rays peeking out through the leaves high above. Illuminating a clear pathway for both of you to walk on. The sound of birds chirping can be heard from the distance and the gentle morning breeze feels so soothing against your skin. All of your fear and pain have vanished, leaving you two alone with the world revolving around the both of you.

Cain shakes his head with a laugh from your reaction before walking in front of you, getting even further from Miguel's mansion.

“W— wait!” You shouted with uncertainty in your voice.

“Hmm?” He hums in reply and stops walking to look at you over his shoulder.

“What if Miguel found out?”

“What about it?”

“He's going to punish me in the basement again, or worse.”

“He won't.”

“How could you be so sure?”

“Because I'm here. Don't worry.”

He continues walking with his hand behind his back. Not even stopping for a second to make sure that you're following behind him. You let out a small whimper before catching up behind him. Both of you walked for a while before he stopped walking, he stopped in front of a beautiful small lake deep in the forest.

You let out a small ‘woah’ as Cain sat down on a massive rock nearby. He pretends to act nonchalant towards how excited and happy you are, tail swiftly wagging with both of your ears perked up. Glancing at your direction momentarily to make sure that you're not running away or getting hurt in any way while he keeps himself busy with his phone.

Not even a single thought of escape pops up in your mind. You're way too busy examining your new surroundings. With eyes that couldn't stop exploring the breathtaking scenery around you, from the tallest tree down to a group of small daisies on the nourished soil beneath your bare feet. In the middle of you admiring everything that surrounds you, the bushes nearby shake. Indicating that there is something or someone here with the both of you. “Y/n get back!” With a swift movement he stood in front of you, switching into his protective mode with a gun pointed at the shaking bushes. His mind runs wild from the worst possible creature that might come out right from the other side of the bushes, regretting his decision by bringing you out here where danger lies.

With finger pressing lightly against the trigger, he prepares himself for the consequences of his own action before a small bunny walks from behind the bushes. Exhaling exasperatedly he retreats his gun, securing it back into his pocket. A group of other bunnies followed behind the little one as the little one made its way towards you and started sniffing your feet. You sat down on the ground before some of them jump up to your lap, earning a couple giggles from you.

He sits back down on his spot, watching you play with the group of bunnies. You look so relaxed sitting on the ground joyfully with bunnies sitting on your small lap. A soft smile appears on his face again before taking out his phone to take a couple pictures of you without you knowing , reserving the memory forever into his mind. “They look just like you.” He comments. ‘Adorable’ He adds sincerely in his mind.

The taste of freedom didn't last long. Since Cain doesn't want Miguel to know that he had let you play outside without his permission, he hurried you back to the mansion to clean you up. Rubbing clean wipes on your knees and hands while you sit on a chair. You watch as he cleans you up from any dirt or mud, “Thank you.” You speak softly. “For what?” He replied, not looking up from the mud stain on your knee that he was trying to clean. “For the freedom you gave me, even if it's only for a while.”

Days went by in a flash and you've never been happier. Cain treats you like a human being instead of some kind of animal, something that no one has ever done to you before. He took you for a couple more of these ‘secret’ trips into the forest. Showing you different parts of the forest to feast your hungry eyes that are longing for freedom.

Playing with the wild bunnies has been one of your favorite activities for the past week. You always await for Cain to take you outside again. He only let you roam free out there for less than an hour. But it didn't bother you since an hour of freedom is better than none at all.

“They're fluffy.” He said as he joined you, sitting on the ground with a bunny nuzzling on his lap. You two have gotten closer for the past day, since he's the only person who dares to interact with you under Miguel's order. “See? I told you it's nice to pet them.”

“It certainly is.” He snickered. It's always quiet around him. He's quite a quiet person you figured, doesn't talk much. Sometimes, he doesn't even talk at all, just watching you with that gray eyes of his. Barely even struck any conversation with his own colleagues. But they respect him, just like they do to Miguel.

The small creature jumps off your grasp, jumping its way into the deep unexplored woods. It tempted you to follow, so you did. Catching up behind it with Cain still unaware that you're gone. “Where are you going?” You called out, thinking that it could understand a word you said. It kept jumping away faster, disappearing into the darkest part of the woods. You lost tracks of where Cain was or even where the mansion was located. The sky gets darker the longer you walk aimlessly by yourself, it wasn't this dark before. Dark rumbling clouds enveloping the once blue and clear sky.

“Y/n it's getting dark, let's go.” He stood up, wiping his clothes off from any dust or dirt. “Y/n?” He turned to find nobody sitting before him this whole time. Just how long have you been gone without him noticing? “Y/n. This is not funny, get back here so we can go back home.” He waits and waits, hoping with his little heart that you'll reply to him calling out your name. “Y/n!” He speaks louder, his voice fills with dread and desperation.

The sunlight was long gone. Tall trees surround you, trapping you there like a cage. “C— Cain?” You called out softly. Glancing your head around to look for any signs of life. Your eyes find the small bunny you were looking for earlier, lighting your face up with joy before you approach it from behind. But something faster than you did before you could even lay a finger on the little bunny. The creature's fangs ripped through the little one's flesh, ripping it into a bloody mess. Making you gasp from shock before it turns its head towards you. A wolf, a massive one.

Growling with blood dripping off its mouth. Your legs start to tremble in fear. You took a couple steps back before you made a run for your dear life. Running as fast as your feet can take you, through the darkness of the forest and through endless massive logs of trees. Tripping over something, you fell with your knees landing first onto the hard ground. Scrapping the smooth skin that was covering your knees until it bleeds. But you stood back up on your now bleeding knees and continued running, wincing in pain as blood dripped down your small legs with every single step you took.

Hope seems like a possible thing for you, until you're trapped against a gigantic wall of a cliff. Panic washes over you when you hear a couple of growling noises behind your back. The beast has brought its friends to play. The predator pouches over you, taking you down with its massive weight. You clenched your eyes shut, letting death to finally claim you after all this time.

A forceful kick landed on the predator's stomach, sending it far away from you before it landed on its back against a trunk of a massive tree. The beast wails in pain but your savior doesn't waste any time to pull out his gun and pierces multiple bullets through the beast's body. He stood there for a second, anticipating any sudden movement from the dying predator. You look over to Cain. He looks tensed, panting air in and out of his lungs.

“I'm so—”

“You're hurt.” He interrupted you in the middle of your short apology. He looks over to you, his eyes sharp with a hint of relief in his eyes upon seeing you alive in front of him. Without another word he scooped you into his arms, carrying you back with him back into the mansion.

Silence hung over the both of you as he treated your wounds. Cleaning over your bare flesh with rubbing alcohol before wrapping your knees up with bandages. He stood up, making his way towards the living room's exit. You don't want him to leave, not yet.

“I'm sorry. I know you're probably mad at me. But it's my fault, I shouldn't have left you.”

He stopped on his tracks before looking at you over his shoulder. “Miguel is going to kill me if he finds out.”

“Then don't tell him.”

“It's not that simple.”

“Cain, I'm begging you. I don't want him to punish me.” He stares at you through his emotionless eyes, his face unreadable.

There it is, that quiver on your bottom lip from you holding back your tears, your fluffy ears falling to your side. He hesitates but lets his heart take over. His mask of emotionless facade falters, kneeling down on his knees to soothe you. “I won't tell him. But I can't let you go out there anymore.” You nodded. At least you'll be able to roam around freely inside. Rather than feeling like a small captive inside that damned basement. Wiping your tears away before hugging his chest tight in relief. He looks down at you with a mixture of disbelief, he never thought you would hug him like this. But he returns the hug anyway with a smile that you've never seen across his face.

Tapping his finger on the table, his mind wanders off the boring topic his business partner has been discussing for the past hour. He has been busy these past few days. Taking over some work on the field, moving from a secluded place to another all day. He closes his eyes briefly, taking his mind off his work for a second. Cursing to himself the second your face comes into mind. He misses you, badly. Wishes that he could get himself back home, away from all the pressure of his work. Taking himself back to you, to see you and to feel you again. To hear you whine and sob whenever something goes wrong.

He switched the screen of a tab in front of him. Switching it to tons of camera previews inside his mansion with one of them showing your sweet interaction with Cain, sharing such an intimate hug in front of his eyes through the screen of the device in front of him. His patience was wearing thin. Standing up abruptly before slamming his tab down to the hard marble underneath, shattering the screen into pieces with such a strong force. He grunts, taking his coat with him then proceeds to leave the meeting room.

“Lyla, we're heading back home.”

“But Miguel, the meeting—”

“Now!”

She rolled her eyes before apologizing to her boss's clients for his aggressive behavior.

Eyes stirring open with darkness surrounding the room you're in. Cain must've forgotten to wake you up from your slumber. Sleepily, you climb off the bed then walk towards the bedroom door. "Cain?" You called out thinking that you'll get a reply from the other side of the door, but nobody answered. It's very quiet, too quiet that you're able to hear your own breathing. You opened the door slowly to find no one standing nearby the door. Cain was usually the one standing there, making sure that you're safe since Miguel left. Taking a few steps out from the bedroom you heard a familiar voice, "Little one, you're awake." You turned around to see no other but Miguel himself with a stain of dried out blood across his face.

"You're back..." You said nervously. The atmosphere surrounding you shifted, becoming so much heavier with his presence. "I have a surprise for you." He grabbed your hand before taking you with him downstairs. The sound of your own heartbeat grows louder and louder with each step you take. He stopped in front of a familiar door, you've been in there before and anything that lies behind that door won't be any good.

Miguel opened the door for you. You gasped with both of your palms covering you mouth. You saw him there, the only person in the whole world that cares about you. Tied up to a chair with cuts and bruises all over his whole body. His face looks awful from all the abuse and torture that was inflicted on him.

“What did you do to him?” Your voice trembles, lacing with fear and dread.

“I took care of him. For us.”

“You're killing him!”

“He dared to lay his hands on you. Worse, he likes you.”

“He was taking care of me! You ordered him to!”

“Taking care of you and stealing you away from me is a massive difference. I'm not a fool, I know everything. “

You froze, standing there like a fool. “What do you mean?”

“I know he let you go outside. Out of that gates that I specifically told you not to walk out of! Did you really think I wouldn't find out?” Opening your mouth to talk back and defend yourself but nothing comes out of your mouth, you fall quiet.

“You know the rules, yet you chose to break it.”

“But I didn't run away!”

No. Not this again. You look over at Cain, hoping that he would back you up this time. His head hangs low. Miguel grips your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. He despises it when you look at someone else but not him. He's fuming in anger, jealousy took over every inch of his body.

“He can't help you. Stop looking at him.” He growls before letting you g0. You stood there for a second. He continues, “Who do you belong to, little one?”

“You…” You mutter under your breath, gaze descending from shame upon your own words.

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“Prove it. That you belong to me.” He offers something, a gun resting on his palm. Your eyes widen upon looking at the metal weapon he's offering to you.

“You don't want me to punish you, do you? Or would you rather sink into the basement floor forever? Your choice.” You know you can't let that happen. Last time you were there, it almost cost you your sanity. But you can't risk losing Cain, not like this.

“I can't…”

“Can't?” He stares down at you, raising one of his eyebrows from your refusal. Snap. With a snap of his finger, three men walk out from the shadow inside the room you're in. Your eyes shot towards them then back to their leader. “What are you doing?”

Miguel wasn't going to accept your simple words of refusal. “Making sure you're learning your lesson.” Without any words of order coming out from his mouth, they begin to torture him again. Your eyes water, heart shattering into pieces the second you see them abusing him for the second time. Cain tries his best not to let out any sound from the ongoing abuse. Gritting his teeth in pain, he sealed his lips shut to suppress any groan from the never ending blow given by his own friends. He doesn't want to worry you. To not blame you for the unfortunate event that is happening to him.

“Cain!” You tried running towards him in an attempt to save him from your stupid mistake. “No!” You scream before Miguel stops you, gripping your upper arm tight, stopping you from running even further.

“Stop it! Stop hurting him!” They continue to treat him like a punching bag. Hurting him without holding back, earning a couple grunts from him.

“Fine! I'll let you punish me! Stop them, please! He didn't do anything wrong!” Miguel doesn't even budge. His men continue, torturing him hard beyond his own limit. Tears streaming down your cheeks from sheer horror. Why are they not stopping?

“It's your fault. You did this to him. You're the reason he's hurt.” Miguel blames you. You can't help him. He's weak, tortured beyond anything your mind could ever comprehend. “Help him Y/n. Take his pain away. You don't want him to keep hurting, do you?” Maybe he's right, you can help him this time. By taking his pain away, forever. Miguel would not let him slip easily after this, setting his life in a horrible nightmare he could never escape. That's exactly what Miguel wanted you to think.

“I'll—” You paused, thinking over your next words. “I'll do it! That's what you wanted right? I'll shoot him! Just tell them to stop!” He lets go of your upper arm almost immediately. “Enough.” He ordered. They move aside. Unblocking your view from your beloved friend. His condition worsened. They broke his nose and countless bones all over his body. Bruises covering almost the entirety of his body. Scars that will take ages to heal tainted his smooth and pale skin. Gasping out in pain, blood flows down his nose to his chin. Dripping down to the floor underneath.

Miguel offers you the same gun once more. You look down at it with a look of despair painted across your face. You took the gun from his hand, holding it with your shaky hand. Pointing it towards the poor man you thought would always be there for you. Your index finger sits on the trigger. A satisfied smile creeps up to his face.

“That's it… He's suffering because of you. Let him out of this misery you had caused him.” He speaks, lips inches away from your ears. His voice smooth like butter, deceiving you like a sly snake. Cain's head shot up to see the gun pointed right at his head.

"Y/n please." Cain whimpers, staring at the gun in your hand as a tear falls off his cheek. He sounds just like a wounded animal, whimpering and wailing in pain just before it's about to be killed.

Cain wasn't the type of man that would ever fear death. But when it comes to you pointing a gun at him, his wall of strength begins to crumble.

“I'm sorry…” A simple goodbye left your mouth. Your vision blurs, tears welling up in your eyes. “Y/n don't listen to him!” He shouted with all the energy he had left. “Y/n—!” Your ears ring from the loud bang of the deadly weapon in your hand, blood splattered everywhere. An eerie silence hangs over the room.

Blood pooling underneath him before he exhaled for the last time. Life leaving his body completely. Cain is dead. And you killed him.

a/n : I'm going explain my crime here (in case if you're wondering). Cain was suppose to be a character from atsv but I felt bad due to his death so I created an oc, yay! Introducing my new babe, Cain. Sorry for not updating anything for the past three months. I'll be more active here soon, I swear. Just bare with me until the end of July and I'll start writing more contents here.

I forgot. Cain was actually Miguel's bestie. Well... Ex best friend for now. Since he's you know, dead.

Let me know if you like him btw, might write something based on this character in the future. Not sure.

tag list :

@yourmomsushi @s0lm1n @bracefacejimin @ahano @mimiemie @reverieblondie @urlocallocachica @sukioyakio @rin-matsuoka345-blog @tojishugetiddies @appleblueberry-pie @ion-news @outmodead @amelialysm @psychoyanderereader

[macsimagines]

Insecure!Darling trying to leave Yandere!Mikey

Put this into a separate post because Mikey's was sooo BIG LMFAO

TW:YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MINORS DNI, PHYSICAL ABUSE, EMOTIONAL NEGLECT, KIDNAPPING, ISOLATION, JUST REALLY FUCKED UP GUYS

Yandere!Manjiro Sano (AKA Mikey)

Does not care, and he doesn't even mean it in unkind way. It's just that he wants and loves you so how you feel doesn't really matter to him. You leaving isn't a scenario he will allow or even think is going to happen.

But the thing is he doesn't comfort you either. He doesn't tell you that it's ok, that you're good enough for him, or that he needs you because he really does.

"Mikey, I just don't think... maybe you could do better?" "That's stupid. Quit talkin' about it." He just shuts down the conversation and honestly forgets.

But he does love you. With all his black heart he honestly adores you, but this love is a very one-sided playing field. He wants your love but won't give it in return, the only time you receive affection is when you're giving it to him. Hugs and kisses and even words of devotion.

"I love you, Mikey." "I know, Y/N." And while he can't live without hearing you say it, he can live without ever saying it back.

So you try to go. As quietly as you can, you don't plan on saying anything to him honestly, because you know (or you think you do) he's not even going to bat an eyelash when he doesn't hear from you.

You write him a letter too, explaining how you know he doesn't really love or need you and that you're both better off like this, but explaining that you're always going to love and want him with all your heart...

Stupidly, you keep your distance. Trying to prepare yourself for the inevitable, and don't expect him when he shows up at your door (Or more accurately, when he kicks it in) one night while you're finishing packing.

You're too shocked to even process what's happening let alone ask him what he's doing, and he's honestly the same. Aghast to see you packing your things away... getting ready to leave him.

"...What are you doing?" is the only thing he can mutter, staring at you with this blank empty expression that scares you more than your kicked in door, "I-I... Mikey, please-!" "What. The. Fuck. ARE YOU DOING!?"

The funny thing is that you never thought Mikey was holding back in front of you. You've seen the way he fights before so you knew just how terrifying he could be, you just didn't know how petrifying it was to have it directed at you.

But he's shattering your windows, throwing your boxes and destroying their contents, wrecking furniture not even two regular people could lift, all while you cower in fear of him in a far off corner, ducking every time something comes flying at you.

Even when he's done with that rampage, he's not done being angry, his eyes are bloodshot with anger when he finally is looking at you, and you're crying so hard begging so much for him to have mercy- to please forgive you for offending him.

However, its too late for apologies. Even the attempt is a grave sin and Mikey will not excuse you just yet. He's grabbing a fist full of you hair and yanking you away from the wall like you're weightless throwing you across the floor and letting you body skid across all the debris and broken glass.

The sharp pain you feel is nothing compared to the fear though, because as soon as you stop on the ground he's on top of you, grabbing your hair again with one hand and your throat with the other.

"You said you loved me-" "I DO! I DO- Please- STOP-" "You said you needed me-" "M-Mike-y, ST-STOP, H-hurts-!" "You're not gonna leave me."

And with that, he dragging you out of the door and back to one of the safe houses he has. Muttering the whole time, "You're not gonna leave, you're not gonna leave me, I won't let you fucking leave me-"

You rot there for awhile, in a cold dark room, with no human interaction than when one of his men come in to give you food, or when he had brought some back alley doctor to patch you up.

Sometimes Mikey visits, but he just looks at you with an unreadable expression, maybe selfishly tells you that he misses your warmth and affection. You don't ever respond though, you feel like you might break if you do. Sometimes, he looks...sad? But he quickly covers it up with; "This is your own fault."

One day, he comes in looking a little worse than most days, almost panicked, then you see what he has clutched in his hands. Your letter? You honestly had forgotten what you even wrote in there...

"I...I went to your apartment. I was... I was going to get your stuff to-to make you feel a little better and I-...I found your letter, Y/N," he says, his voice sounding...choked? "I-uh- I didn't know that you... I wasn't trying to make you feel- I fu-fucked up-," and now he's crying. Like he was the one locked inside a hole and left to die.

He falls to his knees beside your mattress, and you flinch, because this is the first time he's been this close in what feels like months, and that reaction looks like it just about killed him.

"I-i did-didn't know- I- please- I love you," he whimpers, and for whatever reason his words make you sick. He never once said it to you before and now that he's finally giving you his heart in return it makes you want to rip your hair out of your head. You were good enough to love now that you were broken.

But his words don't stop, he doesn't stop, he actually embraces you in a hug ignoring the way your body seizes at his touch, how your skin burns when his tears hit it like he's crying acid.

Mikey could care less, just like before, he wouldn't pay attention to how his lack of love hurt you before or how all of it was hurting you now...

He spends that whole day crying into your chest, petting your matted hair, and promising to love you how you needed. "Your love saved me, my love can fix you," he had sworn like an idiot.

No your love had cursed you, it had damned you the moment you gave it to him, and his love had destroyed you, it was going to rip whatever was left of you apart...

But still...At least you loved each other.

[alastor-simp]

Watching Horror Movies With Idia and Malleus

Here is Part 3 of the Dorm Leaders Watching A Horror Movie with the reader. Enjoy :)

Idia Shroud🎮 + The Ring📺

🎮Inviting Idia to your dorm to watch a movie was going to be a challenge. You knew this man was a hikikomori, as he barely left the isolation of his room, avoiding social contact with anyone except his brother.

🎮Spotting Ortho from afar, you asked him if he could speak to Idia for you, asking him if he wanted to have a horror movie night together in his room, since you knew he probably wouldn't be comfortable if he left his dorm to go to yours. Ortho was happy to let his brother know about your plans, and flew away from you, heading back towards his dorm.

🎮Couple hours went by and the day was almost coming to an end, you had figured that Idia must have told Ortho "no" about the whole movie night. "PING PING", your phone beeped, and you looked to see a message from Idia, letting you know to come over to his dorm right now, and to bring some candy as well. Happy that he had accepted your offer, you grabbed the bags of sweets in your kitchen, and left a note for Grim, telling him you would be at Ignihyde.

🎮Arriving in front of his door, you knocked and let Idia knew it was you. The door opened, signaling you to come in. Entering into his room, you were shocked at how much he had decorated his room. His room was pitch black, but the gaming lights he had around the room, were tinting the room red, giving it an eerie effect. Idia, was on his bed, hoodie covering his face slightly, shy at having someone else inside else in his room, despite the two of you being acquaintances.

🎮Placing the candy on his bed, you sat next to Idia and asked if he was ready for the movie night. Idia gave you a soft smile, asking you what movie did you want to watch, but he warned you that he has seen almost every horror movie and anime known to man, so he was immune to them. Pulling out a CD from your bag, you told him that you have a very popular movie from your world and wanted to watch it with him. Shrugging his shoulders, Idia placed the CD in a strange device, before a holographic screen popped up in front of you, making the movie wide screened, like you were in a movie theater.

🎮Before the movie started, you asked where Ortho was as you knew this might be a bit too much for him to watch since he was still technically a child. Idia told you he was in sleep mode, as he wanted the two of you to spend time together, and also being too young for the movie. Nodding your head, you got comfortable, grabbing one of the plushies he had on his bed as a form of comfort.

🎮Couple minutes into the movie, You turned to look at Idia, seeing if he was enjoying the movie. Despite his hoodie covering some of his face, you could make out his scared expression, his skin was pale and covered in sweat. He was eating the popcorn and candy like crazy, going for more while keeping his eyes on the movie.

🎮You paused the movie and asked Idia if he was okay, and that you could stop watching the movie if it was really bothering him. Idia was shivering in fear, but he shook his head no, wanting to watch the movie towards the end. Starting the movie again, you leaned a bit closer towards Idia, grabbing his hand and interlocking your fingers. Idia jumped as he was NOT use to physical contact at all, but he calmed down, as he realized you were trying to soothe him.

🎮Scenes continued to play, as the iconic scene of Samara began to emerge from the TV, getting ready to kill her next victim. That part got to Idia very badly, as he squeezed your hand tightly, while using one of his plushies as a shield. Soon the movie drew to an end, and the credits started to roll on the hologram screen. Turning the device off, you turned towards Idia, who was still cowering in fear, but happy that the movie was over.

🎮"Are you alright?", you asked Idia, reaching out towards him and placing a hand on his cheek. Idia jerked away from you in fright, shocking the both you. "S-s-sorry. F-for a second, I t-thought you were the g-g-girl from the movie." Idia said to you, as he looked away from you. Your response to that was wrapping your arms around him, placing his head in the corner of your neck. "!?!!?" Shocked, Idia froze like a statue, while his face turned bright red, and his hair turned from neon blue to pink.

🎮Knowing how he must be feeling right now, you told him to relax, while you continued to hug him. Taking calming deep breaths, Idia was able to calm down, and slowly moved his arms to wrapped them around you, returning the hug. You both stayed like that for a couple minutes before you pulled away and looked at Idia. He wasn't as pale anymore and he had a small smile on his face, probably feeling thankful for you calming him down.

🎮You asked Idia if it was okay for you to stay over, just for tonight. Idia hesitated at first, but he gave in, nodding his head at you. You started cleaning the bed of all of the candy wrappers, while Idia went over to his neon lights, changing them back to the neon blue color he liked. He turned back and saw you already under the covers of his bed, arms stretch out at him, telling him to come back. His neon hair turned pink again, as he slowly made his way to his bed, getting under the covers and into your embrace. You both cuddled in this position as sleep took the both of you

Malleus Draconia🐲 + Gonjiam Haunted Asylum🏚

🐲 "..... You are inviting me to your dorm? May I ask why?" Malleus asked you, tilting his head in confusion, wondering why you were inviting him. Feeling shy, you looked away from Malleus, while rubbing your neck with your hand. Honestly, you had no problem inviting Malleus to your dorm for a movie night, but he was still a prince, so you worried that asking him for doing something like this was inappropriate.

🐲Looking back at Malleus, you told him that you wanted to have a horror movie night with him. Malleus still looked confused so you had to explain it to him a bit more as he most likely never a movie night with someone ever. Once Malleus heard your explanation, he was very touched that you had invited him where the both of you could spend time together. "Haha, you are quite bold, Child of man. I gladly accept your invitation, but if I don't enjoy the arrangements, I will get mad ......... Just kidding."

🐲Chuckling at Malleus response, you told him to arrive at your dorm at 7 pm sharp, let Lilia, Silver, and Sebek know he was coming to your dorm, and to wear his pajamas. Malleus nodded at everything you told him, as he gave you a farewell and disappeared, leaving glowing fireflies behind.

🐲At Ramshackle, you prepped the living room, getting ready for the movie night. You made sure to buy some frozen treats from Sam's shop as you remembered that's what Malleus loves. You also planned to make some milkshakes once he arrived, as it might be something new for him to try. After finishing setting up, you checked the time, "7:10 PM", you realized Malleus was late, making you worry. "Did he change his mind?", you thought, but that thought disappeared as you heard a knock at the door.

🐲Rushing towards the door, you opened it to reveal Malleus. He was dressed up in black silk pajamas, and holding a pillow in his right hand. Malleus gave you an apologetic smile, "I apologize for arriving late. It was hard to convince Sebek to let me come to your dorm. It took about a couple minutes until Lilia was able to persuade him." Telling Malleus it was alright, you told him to come in and make himself comfortable.

🐲Malleus sat on the couch, feeling out of place, as he wasn't use to doing something like this, but he really wanted to spend time with you, so he pushed those feelings of awkwardness away. He heard loud sounds coming from the kitchen area, but he thought nothing of it. You returned back to the living room, holding two large milkshakes in your hands, one vanilla for him and the other (your favorite flavor), and carrying a plastic bag on your arm.

🐲Sitting on the couch, you handed Malleus his beverage, which he eyed in curiosity. You explained to Malleus that it was a milkshake, which contained milk and ice cream, blended together, and told him to give it a try, while setting the bag down on the table, which contained other ice cream treats. Malleus took a sip, then his eyes sparkled in amazement, then he started to chug the beverage down. Shocked, you told him to slow down as he would get a brain freeze. Malleus stopped, and gave you an apologetic look, but said the drink was so delicious that he couldn't help himself.

🐲 "Cute" you thought, as you went to the TV, inserting the CD, and going back to the couch. You explained to Malleus that this was a horro movie from your world, and you haven't seen it either, so it was going to be a new experience for the both of you. Malleus nodded his head, as he grabbed one of the popsicles on the table, and began to munch on it.

🐲A few minutes into the movie, Malleus kept asking you questions about certain things in the movie, as since he has never been to your world, so the imagery and people he saw in the movie was intriguing to him. He asked about the buildings, and the language that the characters were speaking. You answered all of this questions and told you that the movie was centered in Korea and that the language the characters were speaking was Korean

🐲Couple minutes into the movie, both you and Malleus had a couple scares as the ghost hunters kept exploring the asylum, but overall the movie wasn't too bad. Malleus was fascinated by the idea of an abandoned building, but he was more use to castles or caves then an asylum, but was still interesting nonetheless.

🐲He keep sneaking glances at you, as you were covering your face with the pillow, preparing for the next jump scare. Wanting to ease your fear, he placed his hand on top of yours. Turning your head to Malleus, you wondered what he was doing, but he didn't say anything and continued watching the movie.

🐲The movie continued with the ghost hunters being killed one by one, by the vengeful spirits that were in the asylum. A scene played where a spirit of a girl kept approaching when the camera was aimed at them. The ghost did the classic jumpscare and screamed up close in front of the camera, before it turned off. "AHHHH", Malleus had jumped in fright, from the jump scare and from you screaming. Terrified by the scene, you had grabbed Malleus arm, and hugged it, while hiding your face. Malleus asked if you were alright, but you shook your head, while using his arm as a shield, covering your face. You apologized for screaming and hugging him out of nowhere, but the scene had really gotten to you.

🐲Malleus relaxed and told you it was alright, and that he didn't mind. The movie finally came to a close, with all the protagonists being dead. Malleus turned to look and you, letting you know the movie was over. Heaving a sigh of relief, you released his arm and leaned back against the couch. "I'm sorry again, Tsunotarou. I'm usually not scared of ghosts since I live in Ramshackle with all of the friendly ghosts here, but that movie made me remember that there are some malicious spirits out there." Malleus nodded his head, as he too was on good terms with the spirits around Ramshackle, but having watch this movie, he was going to be a bit more cautious when entering abandoned locations.

🐲After calming down a bit, you decided to clean up the table that was littered with popsicle sticks and wrappers. Before you could get to cleaning, you heard a snap next to you, and all of the trash began to levitate, making its way to the bin. Turning to Malleus, you realized he had used his magic to help clean up and save you the trouble. You thanked him and Malleus just smiled, making you blush.

🐲The both of you decided to head to bed, but you felt shy as you didn't how to tell Malleus "Hey, let's sleep on the same bed together.", that thought alone was embarrassing as hell. Heading to the bed and sitting on it, you looked up at Malleus, as he made his way closer to where you were. "Umm, Tsunotarou?" "Yes, Child of Man?" Malleus looked at you with soft eyes, wondering what you were going to say. Flustered, you looked away from him and said if he was okay with sharing the bed, and if he wasn't, you could take the couch.

🐲Malleus didn't say a word at what you had said, and you probably thought he was thinking about it, but then the lights went out, and you looked up to see Malleus had magically turned off the lights, and was laying in the bed, with his special pillow behind him, for his horns. He looked at you with a smile, arching his finger at you to join him. Realizing he was fine with the bed sharing, you slowly entered inside the covers, placing your head on the pillow.

🐲Malleus shook his head at you, before he reached his hands towards your body, pulling you towards him. "M-malleus, what are you-", your words were cut off as Malleus had hugged you to his chest, and intertwining your legs together. You froze, not expecting him to hug you like this, as your arms remained on your sides, conflicted if it was okay to hug him back. "Lilia would do this for me when I was a child. I understand you may still be scared from the movie. There is nothing to be afraid of, Y/N. I will be here with you." Malleus said, as you hugged you a bit tighter, while patting your head with his hand.

🐲Your heart was racing like crazy, but you felt so touched by Malleus actions. Moving your arms closer to him, you wrapped your arms around his back, snuggling closer into his chest. "Thank you, Malleus. Yawnnn~ Good night." You muttered into his chest, as you began to slowly fell asleep. Malleus looked down at you with soft eyes, as he leaned closer and placed a kiss on your forehead, "Sweet Dreams, Y/N."

[diejager]

i love your platonic yandere ghost x little sister reader so much.

…can we get a feral big brother ghost?

or ofc if that’s too much (which i understand) then may i request a situation where ghost and his little sister get into a fight?

I wasn’t sure what you meant, so I tried smt??

Sibling Quarrel

Pairing:big brother!Ghost & little sister!reader

Cw: verbal arguments, platonic yandere, possessive, isolation, threats, physical altercation, verbal to physical fight but nothing violent, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.5k

“I told you not to do that!” You screamed, erratically waving your arms around you, hands clenched in a fist and shoulders shaking. “I told you, Simon!”

“And I told you how dangerous it could be!” He growled back at you, hands clenched to his side, body shaking in pent-up frustration. He didn’t know whether it was against you or the man who’d been trying to hit on you, but he felt frustrated and angry. “I warned you, (Name)!!” 

You scoffed, turning around, giving him your back as you screamed into the ever-calmness of your shared room. A cry of anguish and loneliness, a far cry from your smiling and happy self from years back, your isolation and background made it difficult - near impossible - to form a long, lasting relationship with someone, be it a friend or lover. You moved with Simon, you changed with Simon, you died with Simon, as much as Simon would with you. Being the two last of your family, one could not live without the other.

Yet that did not give him the permission to rule over your life with a gavel, pushing away those that you’d come to care for, building a wall around you against the harsh world, or standing between you and someone else. Granted, he had his reservations, but that didn’t mean you’d abide by all of his rules. He could only do so much until you caught on, and when you did - as he expected - you wouldn’t react so approvingly. 

That time when your “friends” wouldn’t talk to you, giving you the cold shoulder as they shuffled away hastily in a group, holding their arms as if they’d fall off. They wouldn’t talk to you when you cornered them one by one, stalking the halls of the base at night until you ran into them, asking, pleading to know why they wouldn’t talk to you anymore. Everyone would shake, trembling in the spot you’d pushed them into, eyes fleetingly scarce when you urged them to look at you as if it was made taboo for them to simply look at you. They mumbled excuses, soft pleas when a steady hand fell on your shoulder, the familiar presence of your brother standing behind you. All they did was shake and run, knees weak and mind faint.

Or the time when men and women alike would walk away when you arrived, reeling back to pave a path for you to walk through. Their eyes gazed at the ground when you passed as if it was ingrained into their bones that staring at you was forbidden. Those lower than Ghost would cower in fear, even some higher than him feared him solely by his reputation. Ghost’s name came in synch with yours, it was never only Ghost nor simply Doc, it was Ghost and Doc, balaclava-wearing specialists in the 141, or the ghost duo, being forgotten members of society. 

Or the time when everyone simply ignored you, walking away once you approached them. They would slowly and unconsciously walk off when it was just you, their backs turned to you and shoulders tense, but when you were beside Ghost, they would scurry away in fright and anxiety, rushing off before he could even step inside the room. 

It was then you realised that your name besides Ghost was what warded them away, he was pushing people away from you with his name, his gaze and his words. They were cut-throat and blunt, dangerously calm and murderously malicious. Your brother ensured that you would be his alone, your body, mind and soul his own. 

“Don’t turn your back to me, (Name),” his voice was deathly quiet, a threat lacing his tone. His broad body standing behind you, tall and unmoving to all but himself. “Don’t walk away.”

You glared at him, face turned to peer at him from your shoulders. You slowed your steps, feet moving one after the other in a slow motion: “Watch me.” Was all you gave him before striding confidently towards the door, arms outstretched to reach the knob with your gloved hand, the cool metal fated to meet your warm flesh- 

You grunted, body slammed into the wall beside the door. You spat curses at Ghost, arms clasped to your sides, unmoving and uncooperative to your wants. He pressed himself against you, his hard shoulders blocking you from peering over him, his strong arms holding you still and his steady legs holding you in place. You were stuck between a rock and a hard place. You faced him, eyes glaring up at your brother, your hate and anger burning into his pale face. In the privacy of your shared room, you could comfortably walk around without your masks, faces bare to each other. You couldn’t hide your expression from him, and he couldn’t hide his tears from you. It was a blessing and a curse, there was no secret between you, but it was hard to hide anything when your eyes were so expressive. 

You caught the hardness in his orbs, the cool and menacing threat he posed toward you. Although you shared blood and a connection thicker than anything, he wouldn’t fear showing you the darker side of himself, the all-imposing and domineering man that gained the fear and respect he held. Your lips pulled into a sneer, baring your teeth at him like an - wounded and cornered - animal, and he returned the sentiment, his chapped lips parting to hiss at you with sharp teeth and even sharper canines. It made your growl look pathetic, his bigger set of teeth gleaming under the dim lighting of your room and his harsh glare life-ending.

However tall and threatening he was, you didn’t back down, being a medic didn’t necessarily mean that you were weak-willed or feeble, you were as much as Ghost was, strong-headed and stubborn. That was something you shared with all your siblings, that stubbornness that made you nearly insufferable, even within the family. Yet people would see the stark difference between you, his towering terror against your puppy-like attempt at seeming threatening. 

“Back off.”

“No.”

“I said back off, Simon.”

You threw your head forward, your forehead aiming to break the soft cartilage of his nose, but you were pushed back, a hand leaving your arm to hold your throat against the wall. You sputtered, your free hand grasping his wrist. It was warm, burning in a way that had you sweating and panting loudly. Ghost narrowed his eyes, his grasp on your throat loose and soft, non-threatening against the light of his universe, but if you kept squirming and struggling, he’d have to tighten his hand around your neck, your small, weak throat right under his big palm. He had you where he wanted, weak and vulnerable, pliant - as pliant as you could be in this moment - under him. 

“I told you,” his chest rumbled with a low growl, his shoulders shaking with the force of his restraint, but his body remained still. “I warned you, (Name).”

He’d warned you, but about what? Was it him warning you about not walking away from him? Or was it about something else? You wondered what he meant, his words holding a deeper meaning to it. Perhaps it was the darker intonations, his narrowed eyes or your situation. You couldn’t and wouldn’t understand what went on in his mind in these moments, where he shut you out and wore a mask. 

“About?” You tried, all you could do was push and push until he let you in, to lower his wall and let his kid sister in, to understand his pain and his fear. You knew he dealt with harsher things than you did, so all you could do was stand beside him and support whatever he wanted. 

You asked a second time when all he did was stare at you through squinted eyes, his eyes glazing over with a deathly still daze, mind lost to whatever thoughts he had swirling in his mind. You couldn’t let him lose himself in another torrent of self-hate and self-deprecation, to fall into another pit of neglect and loss. Your hand glided over his forearm and shoulder, to hold his nape reassuringly. It was something he used to do with you when you panicked, grounding you with soft circles on the side of your neck. 

You saw his sneer loosen, his shoulders relaxing as he moved to pull you into his arms, one hand urging your head to rest on his shoulder and the other gripping your waist, embracing you within his warm arms. Sometimes, Simon might be harsh or mean, or he could be silent and glaring, but he could also be soft and caring, or loving and obnoxious. You might hate him on some days and loathe him on others, but you always came back to him, like a moth to a flame, you depended on him as much as he depended on you. 

“You don’t have to tell me, Si,” you whispered, humming softly in his ears as he ran his fingers through your hair, mumbling apologies. You hated when he turned this way after a rough confrontation between you both, how broken and wounded he sounded, or tearful and sad as he pleaded for your forgiveness. You’d always forgive him, he was your only family, no matter how feral you both acted. “Stop apologising. You don’t have to, I’ll always forgive you.”

His shoulders shook, a choked breath leaving his frowning lips.

“Always.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs

[pearlsinmyhair]

please more x reader smut with jake or miles, im starving 😭😭

wrong.

a jake sully x fem!human!reader smut fic.

warnings: smut. pnv sex. cunnilingus. overstimulation/multiple orgasms. reader is in her early twenties. daddy kink. use of pet names. squirting. size difference. virgin reader. dilf!jake sully. possibly dark content, if you squint. no beta we die like neteyam (im sorry-).

words: 2.7k

a.n.: ask and ye shall receive! this has been in the cooker for a hot minute. @eddiemunsonguitar this is also for you.

Eywa, it was so wrong. Unbelievably so. So sinful that it made you burn with embarrassment and borderline self loathing every time you weren’t burning with desire.

Desire for a man old enough to be your damn father.

It was innocent enough at first. He was just so big, and caring, and funny. And as you got older, your mind started wandering away from a silly little crush to full blown fantasies. Fantasies of him coming into your room at night, grabbing onto you and having his way with you. Practically ripping off any clothes just to ravish you until you couldn’t so much as move the next day.

And at the center of all these fantasies were none other than Toruk Makto himself. Jake Sully.

How could you be blamed? The crop of scientists, as much as you loved them, hardly sufficed when it came to what you craved in a man. Besides, not one of them would even go near you in anyway other than platonic and parental; they had practically raised you.

You were isolated and horny, with no one and nothing to take your frustration out on. And the only one other than the scientists that regularly visited was the Olo’eyktan. Who never even really looked at you, frankly.

Then again, you didn’t see him up close and personal for the first eighteen years of your life; the first half of which was spent cowering in your room or behind tech, and the second half spent admiring from a distance.

Watching with greedy eyes how his abdomen flexed when he leaned over to study Norm’s tablet, or how his thighs tensed as he crouched, or how his fingers spread when he pointed to something.

You wanted to eat him. You wanted him to eat you.

It was only the night of your twentieth birthday and after one of the female scientists told you about na’vi mating traditions that you hatched your plan.

Reassured by her statements that na’vi didn’t stick to monogamy nearly as much as the typical human did, you put on the gifted tweng and matching top you got from Kiri and Tuk as a gift, strapped your exo pack over your face, and marched into high camp with your head held high.

Jake barely knew you when he first really saw you walking the perimeter of one of the huge fires in the caves of high camp. He knew of you, from Norm and Max and their off handed comments about the spoiled princess in their mix, but he’d never seen her.

‘Spoiled’ had always been a joke- you were a kid, and you had needs that weren’t always easy for them to provide. But they did their best.

His kids had mentioned you too; Kiri was especially fond of you (“Sometimes she’s the only one who really wants to listen to my thoughts. It’s refreshing.” Kiri had snapped one night not too long ago at dinner), and Tuk thought you made a great playmate. Lo’ak had considerably less to say, mostly because you didn’t come out of the Oxygen-Pods nearly as much as Spider did, and therefore you didn’t explore with them. Neteyam had escorted you to fetch a plant for Max’s research once, and claimed you were polite.

That was the extent that he knew.

And damn, he didn’t know shit if this is what you looked like. All long legs and coy smiles and soft giggles.

It was over the instant that you introduced yourself.

You both knew it.

ִ ࣪𖦹

“Fuck, Jake please-“ you whined, wiggling and bucking your hips in an attempt to get away from his flicking tongue. His massive hands held you in place, making your body sink into the mattress of your bed within your room. The poor thing creaked with each push of his hands and movement of your lower half, and you thanked Eywa that you had requested a private living space when you had turned eighteen. You don’t think you could face anyone with apologies for the noise of your late night escapades with the olo’eyktan.

“Hush… ‘m not done.” Jake mumbled into your folds, and you had to fight the urge to kick his chest as another shot of electricity made your whole body twitch.

Two orgasms and this man still wasn’t done. He had practically ripped off your panties as soon as he was through the door, picking you up and (gently) throwing you down on the bed. How long ago was that? An hour? Two? It felt like you were melting at this point, and the slurps of Jake’s mouth on your dripping pussy made you shiver with embarrassment and overstimulation.

“Y’know what to say if you’re done, yeah?” Jake asked, pulling back just enough to make sure his words were audible. Daring to look down, you were met with the sight of strings of your cum and his saliva clinging to his jaw, his lips nearly shimmering and parted as he watched you. He brought a breathing mask to his face as he waited, rubbing soothing circles into your thigh with his unoccupied hand.

You dropped your head and with a frustrated whine, and he slapped his palm against your leg. With a yelp, you gave him an audible affirmative, restating your safe-word. Satisfied, Jake licked a broad stripe from your fluttering hole to your clit, sucking the throbbing bud into his mouth and rolling it on one of his canines. You cried out, the rush of popping sparks and burning pleasure returning.

“Just one more, sweet thing. One more and i’ll give you what you want.” he cooed, nipping your labia and tonguing your entrance.

“Need it now, Jake. Can’t take it anymore.” you nearly wheezed, huffing as you felt the coil in your gut tighten. Something was different from before, tingling just below the hot waves of pleasure rolling through your body.

Tonight, after months of eating you out and finger fucking you, Jake had finally decided to let you take his dick. Only one problem with that. Itsie bitsie, really. Nothing serious.

Just that you were a virgin. And taking a dick over twice the size of a human’s was gonna practically rip you open.

So that’s what got you here, approaching your third goddamn orgasm so maybe, just maybe, your slick would make it easier for him to slide in.

Fuck, you weren’t gonna walk for a week, dick or not.

A flood of ecstasy overwhelmed you, and you felt some kind of tingling between your legs before you were slammed back, white clouding your vision as you cried out.

When you came to and looked down once more, you watched as Jake lapped at the juices adorning your thighs and lower belly, wiping some kind of liquid from his face.

“Y’squirted, baby girl.” he hummed as he kneeled over you, picking you up and adjusting you so that your head rested against your pillows and he could rest his knees on the mattress, situating himself between your thighs.

“Prideful skxawng.” you whispered back, only to be muffled by his mouth on yours as his hands found the backs of your knees.

He pulled back, looked down at you with worried eyes as his gaze traveled between your bodies back up to your face. “You’re sure you want this? It’s not gonna be easy, or painless.”

You shifted up onto your elbows, brushing his blunted nose with your own. “Since when did you decide to be my daddy?” you asked, voice low.

Jake’s reaction was predictably dominating; he hissed low in his throat, pushing his forehead down against yours so that your head landed back on the pillow. He rutted his hips forward, and you whimpered when his dick brushed your oversensitive clit.

“This isn’t time for jokes kid. Talk to me.” he growled, and you sobered quickly as he moved the head of his cock to your entrance, applying pressure so you felt some semblance of the reality of what was about to happen.

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your hands to his face and pulled him down, trying not to think of just how much he had to crane his neck to lean closer. “Just… slow. If it doesn’t fit, then fine.” you tried, swallowing the lump in your throat as Jake nudged you again.

“Trust me, kid, it’ll fit. Stretched you to hell and back not too long ago.” he assured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Just relax.”

“Oh, and let’s not call me ‘kid’ when you’re about to fuck me, yeah?” you snipped, tightening your thighs around his waist.

Jake chucked, muttered a soft “brat.” into your ear that got you to laugh. While you were distracted, he pushed his hips forward and slid the first inch of his dick in.

You squealed, and Jake had to keep his hold on your thighs tight and you tried to move away. Your hands flew to his shoulders, clawing into his skin deep enough to draw blood.

It should have hurt- he should have noticed the stings of pain.

But all he could register was tight, warm walls wrapped around his dick with a vice so harsh he swore they were gonna snap it clean off.

With breaks and whispered praise from him, he gradually suck inch by inch of his think cock into you tight little cunt, until finally, fucking finally, he bottomed out.

Tight. Tight around his tongue, tight around his fingers, but fuck. This was on another level.

You were so good- such a good girl taking all of that length, swallowing every inch he gave you with a few tears and quiet whimpers. He leaned closer, making sure not to rock into you too soon, and kissed at the tears tracking down your face, before finally pressing his mouth to yours, swallowing your soft cries every time you’d accidentally shift your hips or he his.

“Damn, pretty girl. Gonna cut off my blood circulation.” he grunted into your shoulder, and he was rewarded with a breathy laugh from you. Experimentally, he ran a hand down between your bodies, before having to mentally convince himself not to burst at what he found.

Leaning up, he looked down at the bulge in your tummy, running a hand over it before looking to your eyes. He found you looking down with awe, wide eyed and dropped jaw at the bump.

Jake placed his palm over it, and pressed down.

The moan you let out was sinful, so desperate and pleased that he nearly rammed into you just out of instinct. But he reminded himself to take it slow as he pulled out, feeling the warmth of your pretty pussy leave him, before pushing back in.

Eywa, Jake was huge.

Of course you knew he would be- you’re not delusional. But damnit, it was almost too much. Your legs quivered with each slow thrust of Jake’s hips, and you buried your face into his shoulder to quell some of your noises. It hurt. Hurt more than anything you’d experienced before. You were quite sure Jake would leave a permanent space for himself inside of you with how you were stretching.

Jake stroked his thumb against your skin where his hand still cupped the back of your thighs, pressing your knees up near your shoulders to get more leverage. The cot gave another soft squeak at the shift in weight, and for a moment you and Jake laughed, finding humor in the absurdity of fucking you into a rickety mattress in a room that Jake couldn’t fully stand up in.

The bulge in your tummy was only a physical manifestation of what you felt: fucking full. You could have cum just at the sight of it there, and by the foggy look in Jake’s eyes, so could he.

“Jake-“ you whispered, though it came out as more of a punched-out wheeze. “Move.”

His eyes flicked to yours for a moment, checking for any hesitation. When he found none, he shifted back on the bed, pulling away. You could feel the emptiness he left behind, and you opened your mouth to protest.

Before you could utter a word, Jake’s hands shifted from your thighs to your hips, and promptly rammed his cock back into you.

You screamed, the rush of pleasure and twinge of pain making you throw your head back as your hands flew to his shoulders, grounding yourself as he repeated the motion. You could feel him, deep inside of you, pressing against your cervix, his tip threatening to push past the barrier and straight into your womb.

That should have scared you, but it only made you rock your hips up to meet Jake’s with each thrust, reveling in the slick slide of his dick against your walls.

“Fucking hell, baby-“ he all but hissed, pinning your legs up again. “Taking this dick so well.”

You whined in response, trying and failing to assemble some kind of sentence to give him. Fucked out and cock drunk from just a few thrusts. How pathetic a sight you were. But no matter how humiliated you would feel later, right now you were confronted will all consuming pleasure and fullness.

Jake was confronted with the view of tears leaking from your eyes and drool dripping from the corner of your mouth, whining and moaning weakly as he continued to pound into you. He was sure he wasn’t much better, anyway. Jesus, he thought maybe you’d loosen, only to be met with a tight clench of your tight little cunt around his cock when he hit your g-spot.

Everything was on fire. Your body, your mind, your pussy. Fuck, you needed to cum. You needed to fucking cum.

“Daddy-“ you whined, finally meeting Jake’s eyes as he bent over you, letting his nose brush yours.

“I know, baby girl. Go ahead and cum around daddy’s cock. Make him proud.” he grunted out, feeling his own release pool deep in his stomach as he tucked his face into the space between your shoulder and jaw.

His permission was all it took for something inside to finally snap, and you could feel yourself gush around Jake’s dick as your whole body trembled, thighs shaking even as Jake held them. After a few beats the pleasure turned into overstimulation, and your moaning became sobs, whimpering into Jake’s shoulder for him to cum already-

Jake shuffled closer to press himself as far in as he could as he felt the coil in his stomach tighten one last time, and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, tasting salt and iron as his release filled your core.

You barely even protested, your body jumping slightly under his at the pain, but otherwise you were limp in his arms. Jake pulled back to look at you, letting one of your legs go and bringing his hand to your cheek. “Hey…” he murmured softly, running his tongue over the dribble of blood from the bite mark marring your skin, waiting for you to come down.

“Hey…” you responded after a second, pushing weekly at his shoulder in an attempt to get him to stop prodding at the wound. Jake chuckled and shifted.

“Pulling out.” he warned you, before pulling himself out of you with a wet squelch. If you weren’t thoroughly fuck out, you would have blushed. But right now, all you wanted to do was curl up and sleep.

Jake chuckled once more, curling next to you and cradling your body against his chest as you began to drift off. “Are you alright?” he asked, his tail curling around your thigh as his hand ran over your back.

“Mhm.” you managed, pressing a kiss to his pectoral as he hitched one of your legs around his waist. “Just gonna be sore in the morning.”

He hummed in agreement, glancing at the bruises on your hips and waist from his hands. Jake knew he should have felt bad for it, and yet his chest hummed with pride at the sight of the physical evidence of him on your body.

Mine.

He pressed a kiss to your head as your breathing evened out, feeling his own eyes grow heavy.

“We’ll worry ‘bout it in the morning, baby. Just rest.” he whispered.

And with an ache between your legs and dripping warmth in your core, you did just that, already drifting away into sleep as his body calmed against yours.

[oleander-nin]

Im not sure if you still take reqs so sorry if you dont but can you do yandere donnie with a reader thats really bad at taking care of themself? Like they’ll stay up until like 5am playing videogames and end up sleeping in so much they decide to skip breakfast and lunch then end up eating a snack instead of a real meal for dinner because its to much work

A/N, not important: Uhh, I think I may have done this wrong- I had an idea, but somehow this came out instead. If it's majorly not to your tastes, send the request again and I'll try again. Thank you sm to @lethelagoon for the title and for helping me with the fic! Also this is posted on the tenth and not the third because I posted smth on the first and decided I could just skip to this week. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: mention of feeding tube, descriptive, mentions of drugging, pills, needles, abuse, kidnapped reader, dark themes, yandere themes

Words: 1357

Summary: Donnie comes home and finds out you broke his rules. Again.

“Do we need to go over your schedule again?” Donnie’s smooth voice sounds from behind me. I look towards him, shrinking down in fear. I set the console SHELLDON swore I was allowed to use down, racking my brain to try and find an excuse to get out of this. It had taken me three months to convince him I was fine being left alone, three months to convince him I wouldn’t break the schedule he created for me. Yet here I was, caught with the console on and his(or ours, as he liked to claim) bed unmade, the clock shining the traitorous numbers brightly. It was three in the morning, and Donnie had just returned from a mission, catching me in the act. I gulp. This was not going to go well.

“Well?” He asks, crossing his arms and tapping his foot. A scowl was on his face, signaling his distaste to the world. I chew on my cheek, opening my mouth and closing it over and over, trying to think of something to say. I didn’t want to be drugged again. I wouldn’t let him drug me again.

“I couldn’t sleep.” I say. It was a half-truth, which is better than a full lie. He can’t prove I wasn’t having trouble sleeping. Hopefully he won’t realize I never tried.

Donnie scoffs, a scowl set on his face. “Then you ask SHELLDON for sleep medicine. That is not an excuse and you know it. Gosh, you’re so- UGH!”

I cower back, my hands starting to shake as he paces around the room, his arms flailing as he continues to rant. I was going to be punished again, I was sure of it. Images of the isolation room and chains flashed through my mind, the slick taste of pills burning my throat. I couldn’t go through that again. I never wanted that to happen again.

Noticing my shaking, Donnie rolls his eyes and crosses the room in quick succession. He scoops me into his arms, holding me close while he continues to grumble under his breath. His arms were tense, the muscles more defined due to his anger. I couldn’t help the wave of panic coursing through my veins, my mouth going dry. 

I brace myself for the sharp pinch of a needle, but it never comes. I glance at his face, his dark eyes boring into mine. He wasn’t pleased, that was certain, but I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t freaking out. Last time I did something like this, he stripped the room of anything I could mess with and kept me locked up for a month. I still remember the pills he brought in, every night at seven. I shudder at the thought, the feeling of my body shutting down and pulling me into an unwanted sleep. 

He continues to stare at me, scanning my face slowly. He sighs in irritation, adjusting me in his arms before carrying me further into the room and setting me on the bed. He sits on the edge, his eyebrows furrowed as he takes his gear off slowly, letting each glove and padding fall to the floor. His steady hands were shaking in anger, his drawn eyebrows furrowed. My chest is tight in fear, knowing what was to come. The only wonder I had was why he was taking so long. I watch his face, trying to look past his eyes and learn what he was thinking. His silence was never good, a painful indicator of how ruthless he could be. Silence was a warning with Donnie, never a blessing.

“You didn’t listen.” He says, his voice tight. He’s not looking at me, his eyes trained on the floor. His hands squeeze the blanket of his bed, his green knuckles going white from the force. My blood runs cold and I desperately try to think of a way to fix this. He looks back over at me, his eyes narrowed and furious. “Why? Do you think I’m wrong? Do you not see the way I love you and want you to improve?”

I stay silent, unable to form a response. I didn’t know how to tell him the way he loved me was wrong in every way possible. I didn’t know how to tell him I still wanted, no needed, my escape from reality. 

His eyes wash over me again, my body feeling heavier with each look he gave me. It was like every time he scanned my body, another layer of fear and shame was set on my shoulders. The room was getting smaller, my lungs struggling to take in air. My left hand crosses my chest and sits on my shoulder, my right digging painfully into my thigh. I couldn’t do this. I wanted to go home. I hate him, I hate him so much. I can’t do this, I can’t be near him. All he does is hurt, and take, and I can’t leave. I was going to die here, stuck under the sick obsession of a mutant turtle.

I feel his hand on my back and I try not to cry, panic and fear growing until I feel as if I would pop. I couldn’t live like this, not any longer. I look up, seeing the way his face had tensed. I could see his lips moving, but couldn’t hear the words. I feel my throat ache from the held back tears, my entire body thrumming in sync with my heart. It was too fast. His room was too dark.

“Breathe.”

I suck in a sharp breath at the order, my body conditioned to do as he says without question. His hand goes under my chin, gripping it firmly, but not harshly. He makes me look into his eyes, the same eyes that were unbothered as he locked me away for weeks. The same eyes that stared angrily as he shoved a feeding tube down my throat when I forgot to eat. A sob bubbles from my chest as I try to pull back, survival instinct kicking in. His grip on my chin grows tighter, his other arm looping around my back and holding me in place. He places his forehead against mine, his lips moving once more. I could feel the words around me, the vibrations in the air, but I couldn't hear them. I could understand what he was saying, but I didn’t know what he said.

I continue to cry involuntarily, the hand holding my chin shifting to cup my cheek so he can wipe the tears as they fall. It didn’t help, his thumb wasn’t fast enough to wash them all away. I sit like that for nearly twenty minutes, the world around me crashing down and landing on my chest. My vision swirls with each sob while Donnie continues to hold me and whisper useless, silent words.

My vision swims one last time before the room starts to come back into focus, a harsh ringing in my ears. Donnie’s face is inches from mine, his drawn eyebrows furrowed. I stare at them through my sniffles. I never noticed he didn’t take off his mask. I try to turn my head to look at the room, but his grip on my face is strong.

“Are you done?”

I blink at him, his thumb roughly swiping my cheek as a stray tear falls. I forgot how his voice sounded for a moment. I take a deep breath, nodding. I didn’t have any other way to tell him, and I doubted I would fall into another fit. His hands fall from my face and I lean my neck back, staring at the ceiling. I felt numb, like my tears washed away every emotion my body once held. I couldn’t tell if I felt free, or even more suffocated. It was surreal, having my body be able to go through such stress before falling back as if nothing had happened.

Donnie’s hands trail down me, as if he was afraid I’d fall apart if he let go. They loop around my waist, pulling me firmly into his lap before he shifts on the bed and falls backwards, keeping me on his chest. I don’t fight it this time, letting him press a kiss to the crown of my head while he slowly rubs my back.

“This is what happens when you don’t listen, love.” His voice is quiet, one hand leaving my back to take his mask off while the other holds me tight. I let my head fall, my cheek pressed uncomfortably against the hard of his plastron. I let my eyes close, too tired to fight him any longer. I feel his chest vibrate as a small chuckle can be heard from him. “There you go. Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up so we can discuss your new schedule. This will never happen again.”

I feel my stomach churn at his words, but I do nothing more than hum in agreement. I couldn’t fight anymore, my energy zapped. I just hoped I could sleep in tomorrow. I would delay a talk with him forever if I could. I take another breath and sleep comes for me, dragging me down into the darkness of my mind.

[barelylivingscholar]

Arlecchino with a daughter tw: unhealthy family relationships, manipulation, and gore(?), suicidal thoughts, unstable/mentally ill daughter. Not for the faint of heart, heavy angst, a somewhat positive ending in the last part(?) (Do not read if uncomfortable)

An: I am backkkkk, second semester and last semester’s finals kept me busyyyyyy but I’m here again to post some stufffffff!! Not hsr related but like I also write for Genshin now, apparently… Will post a part two, I guess? “Father. When am I able to hang around with the others? I have done everything that you’ve asked for.” A young girl asked, to which “Father” responds with, “You need to focus on the task in hand. I still have many more missions for you to do before I set you free.” The girl sighed, knowing very well that she may as well never be able to be allowed to play with the other kids… For a moment, the girl had wished that she wasn’t the only one to deal with this kind of burden. The burden being, the “successor” of “Father.” She wanted to play with the other kids as well, but alas, her father does not permit her to do so. Instead, excuses are made, and the standard Fatui discipline is instilled in her mind, always have to act proper and professional, not allowed to shed a tear, or to feel strong feelings regardless of what the matters are. I hate it here. I do not wish to stay here any longer. Every day feels like I am only made to be the person that “Father” wishes me to be. I am never truly happy. I am sinking. Father was not  family. This whole thing is and always was, a lie. Do I ever get to be free? Perhaps I can set myself free. There is a way.  ̶T̶̶h̶̶e̶ ̶q̶̶u̶̶e̶̶s̶̶t̶̶i̶̶o̶̶n̶ ̶i̶̶s̶, ̶a̶̶m̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶̶i̶̶l̶̶l̶̶i̶̶n̶̶g̶ ̶t̶̶o̶ ̶d̶̶o̶ ̶i̶̶t̶? --- After burning the corpse of their enemies, I return to the House of the Hearth, albeit bloody and face that is smudged of dirt, the smell of blood and gasoline lingers around me. With every passing servant, caretakers, and also children as well, unsettled and left shaken up at the sight of me. I stained the carpets red. I wonder if “Father” would notice as the carpet is in the same shade of the blood of her enemies…? Will she punish me and discipline me? Although words are exchanged, no form of physical harm done, I am still left isolated.  Like I am to be a monster kept away from people… I feel caged.

This time, I didn’t bother to clean up and went straight ahead to father’s office. Where I know I’ll be punished for such a careless mistake. “Father, I have returned.” I greet, looking to see her eyes staring straight at me. For once I don’t cower. I simply walk up to her and wait for her response. I have no reason to be scared, right? I don’t think I care anymore. Father’s eyes narrowed. The sight of blood that wasn’t mine, the smell of gasoline, in her eyes, I may as well be the filthiest child in the house. One that is simply, uncouth for the position of “successor.” “Why have you not followed protocol? Especially contingency 8? Have I not taught you well?” Her voice sharp, dissatisfied with my performance. It must be a surprise for her that her “successor” had become disobedient. What is she going to do to me, I wonder? Dispose of me? Or would she find someone else who is to succeed her as the “Father” of the House of the Hearth. “I… I have no other excuses.” I was unable to control my voice. It was shaky, wavering. I hate it. Father’s eyes seemed to had harden. I am interested with what is going to be the left of me once this is all over. I look forward to it. I want her to snap at me. Kill me. Foul words for a child like me, but this is what I planned. Maybe it is best that I sleep in eternal slumber instead rather than live a life full of misery. I have nothing to be grateful here. I am not thankful that I am still alive today. “…You are hereby stripped of the title “successor.” You are no longer worthy of the title. I am disappointed.” Is that it? No severe punishments? My mind raced; I was unable to comprehend why had she punished me in a way that is so… Little? Had she gone soft? I do not remember anything that made her want to punish me lightly. Don’t I deserve… More? My brows had furrowed. “Father” did not miss that. “Daughter… Are you, upset?” Her voice sounded confusing, to me. Why do you suddenly care? I don’t understand you at all. I do not feel safe at all. Are you really “family?” “…I’m fine.” I say, my voice a little tight. Unshed tears on my face, I am no fool. I do not need your love.

“You are now excused.” Never had I ever left her office so quickly after that. I had to get away…! I need to get out of here… I breathed heavily as I ran and ran… Until there is nowhere to go. The heavy snow had engulfed me. And soon… I was unconscious. I awoke to an unfamiliar place. This is not the House of the Hearth. I quickly got up, ignoring the sudden rush of blood shooting up due to how fast I went up. I ignore the throbbing pain on my forehead, I focused on my surroundings instead. Where am I? This place is… Different. I jolted as I felt a hand on my shoulder, immediately backing off and grabbing a hidden dagger in my boot. “Stay there! I will stab you!” I hissed. Glaring at the mysterious figure. They looked… Kind. I am not supposed to feel that way. There are no kind people in this world. Everyone I know will always lie to me, manipulate me for their gain. Just like “Father.” Just like them…

The stranger had knelt down and attempted to soothe me. I only responded with aggression and threats. They weren’t phased at all. “Who are you? I am no ordinary orphan! I am a murderer!” I shouted, clearly agitated. The man in a familiar coat had not reacted violently at all. I am confused. And angry. “I am Pantalone. “Regrator” from the Fatui. I assume you are one of the Knave’s lost children…” My eyes widened at the statement. He is no ordinary man… I should’ve known, I gritted my teeth and gripped my dagger tight. “I am not her orphan! I am no longer a part of that… I could care less if you are a part of the Fatui, I will die gladly in vain if I have to fight for my freedom!” I hissed. The man is amused. I can tell by the look in his eyes. “I have a better proposal for you, child.” “Regrator” inquired. I had not chosen to back down even at the prospect of an offer. “What makes you think I will take it?” I replied, gripping the dagger tight. “I will not surrender you to the Knave. Rather, I’ll take you in as my disciple.”

Disciple? Is this man sick in the head? Why would I agree to that? It seems “Regrator” had heard my thoughts, and so, he added, “Although, it is up to you if you would rather be surrendered back to the Knave… Or join me and I’ll give you a much better purpose, in life… Not that you have any choice on the matter if you decline my offer…” I had no sense of purpose to live for. I am merely an empty shell of what I was once. I have nothing to achieve… In the end, I don't have what it takes to truly end my life. So I will follow my new superior. “Fine. But don’t expect me to be easily obedient. I am rather mad.” And it was the start of something anew…  I had become, “Regrator’s disciple.” I wonder how “Knave” will react to such arrangements… An: Part two will include Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet. There will be other characters who will be included as well but, part one's story was set before Lyney became the sucessor of the House of the Hearth. I am thinking of interesting ideas to write for this story and some alternate routes as well... We'll see once I whip up part two.