#*ooc. what in the witness protection...? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gojorgeous · 4 months

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"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off.

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all.

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it.

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married.

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags.

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding.

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times.

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying.

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance.

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold.

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income.

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me?

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of.

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.”

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before.

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.”

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you.

“Yes, my lady?”

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?”

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps.

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you?

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness.

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing.

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home.

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come.

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly.

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning.

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags.

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle.

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and-

“Do you like them?”

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie.

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him.

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained?

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.”

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.”

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips.

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.”

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling.

“Of course… Satoru.”

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet.

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies.

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.”

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever…

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.”

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming?

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.”

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?”

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks.

“Not tonight.”

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch.

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence.

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone.

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened.

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed?

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense.

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person.

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all.

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking.

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?”

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver.

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.”

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.”

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains.

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in.

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you.

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again.

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse.

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas.

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume.

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.”

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind.

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.”

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin.

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.”

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?”

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.”

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room.

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough.

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue.

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.”

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.”

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?”

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?”

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.”

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight?

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you?

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse.

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone.

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon.

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare.

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge.

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he?

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you.

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right?

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there.

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”.

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye.

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.”

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further.

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages.

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.”

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph.

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe?

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.”

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second.

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.”

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening.

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.”

No, no, no.

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible.

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru.

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows.

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense.

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting.

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine.

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?”

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.”

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you.

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further.

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…”

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you.

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does.

“About the estate?” he asks.

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?”

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.”

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.”

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-”

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why.

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him.

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…”

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch.

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine?

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?”

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real.

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point.

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper.

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in.

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.”

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him.

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?”

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.”

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.”

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight.

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago.

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?”

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?”

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be.

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?”

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe.

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.”

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?”

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone.

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin.

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt.

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.”

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has.

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less.

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning.

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long.

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked.

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity-

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips.

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re–

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature.

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.”

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper.

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust.

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb.

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.”

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further.

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?”

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer.

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?”

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch.

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.”

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod.

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth–

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing?

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire.

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.”

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is.

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move.

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop.

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake.

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.”

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision.

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer.

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done.

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation.

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.”

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp.

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts.

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–”

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin.

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants.

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath.

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments.

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…”

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come.

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull.

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens.

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like.

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants.

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago.

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave.

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

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hxmocrastic · 5 months

Text

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 | HCS

Pairing ; {📖} Percy Jackson x GN!Reader

Warnings ; Yandere , Obsessive Thoughts, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Implied Stalking, OOC, Imminent Kidnapping, Predator/Prey Dynamic. ALL CHARACTERS 18+

A/N ; Sorry I've been gone for so long y'all 😭🙏🏾 I promise I'll be more active with my fics on here, Thank you all for so much love !! Enjoy!!

- I see Percy as a somewhat manipulative but possessive kind of yandere, He has all the strength and power to make you his but he chooses to befriend you.

- He's quick witted, spiteful, and fiercely loyal he would do anything to stay by your side and to keep you by his. In his eyes you are meant for each other whether you like it or not (not).

- You're a drug, driving him to insanity this dark obsession is killing him and will soon kill you.

- What we've seen him do for annabeth will be the bare minimum of what he'd do for his obsession.

- Yes, obsession. Percy has viewed you from a objectified lens for so long that his perception of you has twisted into l something sick.

- To him you're just something to keep, something to protect, and something to love.

- So much so, he's had thoughts of what it'd be like to just take you. Take everything OF you, from you, and toss this pathetic little waiting game In the trash.

- He's sure he would keep you hidden and protected from perverted eyes sullying what belongs to him. He'd keep you clean and pure from those disgusting demigods,

- But this is Percy we're talking about, he'd never even conceive of doing this to a fellow demigod. Except for the fact he already did, to you.

- Percy always has to reassure himself that these thoughts and feelings are just that, thoughts and feelings. Thankfully these are just thoughts right? They're okay if their just thoughts right? Just dirty sick thoughts that he knows are wrong, but can't help entertaining.

- though rest assured Percy is your friend, he's protective of all his friends ! He's just loyal that's why he's always at your side when you're practicing archery.

- Why he's always caught staring openly and vacantly at you whenever you even step one foot outside your cabin.

- Why he's always somehow accompanying you on any quest you receive.

- Why his touch always seems to linger whenever he manages to maintain physical contact with you.

- Listen to your head counselor, he's just being friendly! Percy's like this with everyone, you see. infact you should be lucky that he would even look at you so fondly.

- Maybe they're right, maybe you are going crazy. Maybe he's just being sweet. Maybe he just wants to be your friend.

#yandere percy jackson #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #yandere pjo #percy pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #dark content #male yandere #tw yandere #yandere headcanon #percy jackson headcanon #percy jackson hc #headcanon

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impactedfates · 4 months

Note

Hi hi I'm feeling so cruel right now >:]

So uuuh HCs for DH[IL], Jingyuan, Blade and Welt reacts how does their child [reader] dies... Like imagine how reader dies is like how the Genshin Playable characters die [they dusted away]

Please feed me a n gst

—🫶🏻 Anon

★ A/N: The way the reader dies reminds me of how one of my ocs species dies lmao. Hopefully this is up your ally :))

☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Familial + Angst

★ Format: Bullet Pointed HeadCannons (It kinda turned into a mini story I think-)

☆ Warnings: Mentions of Death (Readers)

★ Extra: Adopted reader in all // Reader is under 12 for Dan Fengs, and in their teens for the rest // Giving Jing Yuan more of a sad life/hj // Wrote this in WellBeing class lmao // Characters may be OOC

Dan Feng as a High Elder doesn’t always have the time to really see you. Sure when he first adopted you he did spend a good chunk of his time with you but eventually his duties caught up.

He appointed someone to look after you. Someone that you knew and that he knew. Someone trustworthy.

So when he came back to his home early one day, the house dead silent. He grew worried. He called out to the person, to you. But there was no response.

He walked to your room, perhaps the both of you fell asleep. Wouldn’t be the first time.

But all he could witness was dust covering your room. And the man no where to be seen.

He knew instantly where that dust came from, he was quick to search for him. Found him hiding thinking he could get away, unaware that Dan Feng would be home early, unaware Dan Feng would catch him.

The man he had trusted to protect you, was the same man who ended the life you should’ve continued to have.

Dan Feng was quick to throw the man in the Shackling Prison, praying to whatever Aeon that can hear him that he gets what he deserves.

He collected as much of the dust that was still in his house, the last thing that he had of you. And carefully placed them in a jar.

Many question the High Elder why he holds a jar of dust so dearly to him, and all those times he refuses to answer. Not wanting to break down in front of the other Vidyadharas.

It was only a mission, a mission he sent you and Yanqing on. He had thought there were only a few Mara struck soldiers that had to be defeated.

He had wondered why Yanqing slowly entered the Seat of Divine Foresight without you. He had wondered why Yanqing was breathing rapidly and on the verge of tears.

Jing Yuan comforted Yanqing before asking about your whereabouts. Perhaps you were getting snacks after a successful mission? Yanqing could only try to explain in a shaky voice, clearly startled and upset.

But why would he be upset? You were his adopted sibling and was usually so kind to him. You wouldn’t have done anything to hurt him?

Yanqing tried his best to explain, stuttering over his words and needing to take a few deep breaths, the General listened carefully.

…Ambush? Well…Jing Yuan supposed he made an error in that. He only thought there were a few. Wow, if you and Yanqing didn’t know about that then you could’ve been caught off guard and…

Oh!

Oh…

Jing Yuan quickly connected the dots, he slowly held Yanqing closer, witnessing his own sibling fall to the hands of the Mara struck then be faced with dealing with the remaining enemies…he couldn’t imagine the stress.

A ceremony was held in your honour. Your dust already gone away like the wind so your memories will follow as he sends multiple starsciff at with gifts.

But he’ll always remember, he’ll remember the regret he felt that he couldn’t do anything nor could he have seen that an ambush would occur.

He wished he could’ve done something.

Are you dumb or something??

Blade could’ve taken that hit. Why’d you have to take it!?

He would’ve been fine. He wouldn’t been okay, a relief would’ve washed over him even though he knew he’d survive.

So then why did you have to take the hit that was meant for him, and leave him in a state of rage?

He quickly disposed of the pests that caused your demise, before trying to check on you. But all he could do was watch as your body dusts away.

He tried his best to grab any dust he could but most went with the wind. All he could do was stand there questioning why you would do that.

He said he’d protect you. Everyone else in the Stellaron Hunters were busy so he had to take you with him when he did his part. Yet it ended with you gone.

There was a small ceremony for your disappearance from the earth. Elio as much as he may not want too, he continued sending people on missions however allowed Blade to opt out of them he could properly mourn.

Blade still wonders why you decided to save him when he would’ve been fine, he wonders if he’d be able to save you if he noticed the enemy creepy behind him.

It was just a small argument. Welt felt bad but allowed you to storm off. You’d return eventually anyways. You’d return once dinner was ready back at the express, you knew what time that was.

But you never did return did you? Welt had thought long and hard and was ready to apologise for his words yet you weren’t back yet? Did you get dinner then go to your room?

He went to check, your room was the exact same you left it.

Did…anyone see you come back? He questioned the members of the express. None have seen you.

Finally he grabbed his coat and cane and went to look for you. Went in the direction you went and searched. As he walked his foot stepped in something. Looking down confused, his eyes widened.

Golden Dust. Dust that he knew belonged to you. Dust that told him you were gone.

And he wasn’t able to tell you he was sorry.

Welt is silent as he walks back, he let the wind take your dust elsewhere. A place he hopes you’d be happy in.

He was quiet but able to tell the express what happened. Each of them holding a small funeral for you. They kept your room intact, filled with things you loved before locking it. That room will no longer be filled with warmth but will soon grow cold.

Welt drew a picture of you, keeping it safe with him. And despite how it may seem that eventually he was over your death. He could never be.

Not until he was able to apologise for the argument.

But that won’t happen anytime soon now will it?

This was actually rlly fun to write!! Especially in well-being haha. This was meant to be posted yesterday but something came up so here it is now haha.

Might've missed some warnings, so as always. Please inform me if I did.

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jaelvr · 2 months

Text

Take my whiskey neat

Home | NCT 127 masterlist |

Requested : no

Prompts ; 10. “You’re too sweet for me.” + 32. “I know you think we aren’t right for each other, but we’ve run into each other too many times for you to tell me that this isn’t fate.”

Pairing : frat! jaehyun x fem! reader

Pronouns : you/yours

Type : fluff

Word count : 1.6k

Warnings : mutual feelings, opposites, college au, fluff, slightly ooc

Have a great day !!

——————————

His eyes lingered on you as you moved around, a gentle smile on his face. It was a wonder to him, how full of life you constantly were. Here you were, enjoying karaoke with the others, a drunken jungwoo who was accompanying you slurring his words while you were completely sober. He hovered around slightly, leaning against the doorway as he watched, his protective nature settling in while he sipped on his cup of whatever had been put into the frat juice. If someone had told him a year ago, that he, the notorious frat boy would end up in a situationship with one of the 'idol' students, he would've laughed. Yet here he was, completely wrapped around your finger, a lovestruck grin on his face.

He chuckled softly at Jungwoo's slurred attempt at the high note, making his way out of the living room to the kitchen, looking through the cupboards and the fridge. He'd settled on a glass of whiskey, taking it neat and pouring you a drink of coke, knowing you'd rather not drink. "Hey angel." he murmured as he felt your presence behind him, your arms attempting to wrap around his waist. He downed his drink before turning around, moving your arms up to his neck and his hands gently resting on your hips. He was completely lost in you. His mind was shouting at him - you were too sweet, too pure for him. Not one for the party atmosphere like him and his friends, yet you came anyway. Despite your innocent appearance, you still gained a lot of attention from the others, Jaehyun fully aware of the burning gazes from his frat brothers. He couldn't lie, it annoyed him a little - the thought they could even have a chance with you. He was possessive

You hummed, nuzzling into his neck as he gently caressed the back of your head, fingers softly running through your hair. "You doing alright?" he asked, a soft smirk on his face while he took in your sleepy state. "Sleepy." you mumbled, gently placing pecks along his neck, innocently messing with him. He chuckled. There was nothing innocent about the way you were acting - you knew exactly what you were doing to him, yet you were still so pure. He held on tighter, not letting you get away from him so easily. "You're playing a dangerous game, my girl." he huffed, breath hitching as his eyes grew slightly darker with lust.

"No idea what you're talking about." you giggled softly, hands gently resting on his chest, moving up and down. He raised an eyebrow, lowering his head so your faces were inches apart. His hands wrapped around your waist tighter, making it clear you weren't leaving. "You're too sweet for me." he whispered, gazing deeply into your eyes. "Let me make this easy for you." he whispered, holding you close to his body. "Keep doing what you're doing and I won't be able to stop myself." he growled.

"Maybe you should take me to your room." you murmured with a cheeky smirk on your face, knowing he was riled up. His whole body shivered, blood flooding his entire body with lustful heat. That small whisper on your breath was enough to drive him insane. "I want to.." his voice was a ragged whisper, breath hitching as his nostrils flared. "But I don't think I could hold myself, or you, back." he admitted as he stared down at you, his grip around your waist not loosening by a single inch.

"Don't."

----

"What is your problem?" you asked, your face unreadable. He remained still for a moment before taking a deep breath. He had avoided you for days, hoping you would forget about it. He had told himself that it meant nothing after all. That you were just another girl he was with. But when he was around you, it was like his body was on autopilot. His mind and heart were completely consumed by the mere thought of you. He didn't know how to react. He couldn't even find his voice as he stared at you quietly. He felt weak around you. So weak. "Well?" You asked, arms crossed as you waited for a response.

"I…" he trailed off, unsure of what to say. Did he simply come out and tell you it meant more to him than he had originally thought? No.. That would make it sound like he cared. That wasn't possible.

"Well... It's not like it meant anything anyways." he said finally, the look on his face cold as he forced himself to sound indifferent. "Jaehyun-" you started, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You picked up on the subtle hints he was lying, his ears having a red tint on them, growing darker by the second.

He looked away as he felt the familiar sting of shame on his cheeks. He hated the fact that he was lying to you. That he was hiding his real emotions in an attempt to prevent getting his heart broken. Yet he knew deep down that it was going to end up hurting him even worse in the end. He had to protect you from himself. "Stop looking at me like that." he murmured as he tried to shift his expression to something less expressive. “I know you think we aren’t right for each other, but we’ve run into each other too many times for you to tell me that this isn’t fate.” you murmured, stepping slightly closer to him.

Fate? Fate? He didn't believe in fate. He didn't believe in true love. In finding his soulmate. He was a playboy, remember? But now look at him. A playboy so enamoured with a girl who wasn't on his radar. A girl who was the complete opposite of him. He felt his chest constrict as he glanced at you with a helpless, pleading look. Perhaps you were right. Maybe this was destiny.

"Look…" he started, his voice becoming shaky as he attempted to explain himself, "I've been afraid… You make me feel things I've never felt before… Emotions I never thought I would feel. But I…." He paused when he could hear his voice falter. "What if I end up getting you hurt in the end?" he whispered. His body yearned for yours. His mind yearned for you. His heart yearned to belong to only you. He felt the heat throughout his body as his chest rose and fell from the quickening of his breath. He felt the tension in his fingers as his grip increased on your waist, not wanting to let go of you ever."You don't know that." you murmured softly, cupping his face.

"Just give us a try. Please?"

----

You tossed and turned in bed, letting out a soft yawn as you rubbed your eyes before opening them. They settled on him, quietly reading his book as he sat up in bed. One hand holding the book while the other gently scratched your scalp. "Jae??" you whispered after a few minutes of admiring him. "You okay? what're you doing awake at…" you paused, looking at the alarm clock. 3am. He looked up from his book when he heard you stir. You were looking at him with an adorable sleepy expression. Your hair was dishevelled and you were half asleep. It was hard not to notice the bags under your eyes. Yet he couldn't help but find the way you looked absolutely adorable. His gaze shifted down to the clock as he noticed the time. "Couldn't sleep." he muttered, closing his book and laying it on the side table beside the bed.

"Want me to go make us some coffee?" you asked softly, sitting up next to him and gently pecking his cheek. He felt the touch of your plump lips on his cheek, causing his body to shiver as the sensation radiated all through his body. He smiled, running his hand through your tangled hair as he gently pulled you down next to him. "That sounds perfect, my girl." he murmured softly, pulling you against his body, planting kisses on your forehead and cheeks. He missed this. So much. All he wanted was to stay in your arms like this forever. This was easily his favourite place ever.

You got up, pulling one of his shirts on which was oversized on you before you sleepily walked out of the bedroom, down the hallway and to the kitchen, flicking the lights on. You softly hummed to yourself as you got two mugs out, getting everything you needed and putting the kettle on, unaware of him leaning against the doorframe and watching you, a lovestruck smile on his face. Seeing you rummage around the kitchen in one of his oversized T-shirts with messy hair was probably the cutest sight he'd ever seen. His gaze followed you as you moved around the room, humming your little song. He took a deep breath, inhaling your sweet scent as he stared, unable to take his eyes off of you. It was obvious how he had fallen for you and fallen completely hard.

"You like your coffee black right?" you murmured gently, head tilted slightly as you made your coffee while waiting for his response."You know I do, babe." he murmured, moving slowly to the kitchen and leaning against the doorway next to you. "You know how I dislike milk and sugar," he smirked, wrapping his arms around your waist gently, his nose breathing in the scent of your hair as he stared at the back of your head with a loving gaze.

"You're sweet enough."

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illustrious-ia · 2 months

Text

＃𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙇𝙇𝘼𝙍𝙊𝙉 𝙃𝙐𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙎 ⠿ 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 AU! 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 HEADCANON

✶ ! [ 578 words ]

✶ ! [ CW: dark content, yandere themed, unhealthy obsession, overprotectiveness, stalking, potential ooc, written by non-fluent english speaker. ]

✶ ! [ Uniquant's Note: This abomination has been sitting in the basement for a month... I'm quite cringed at how messy the original hcs was, so it took me fairly a long time to make it acceptable (to me at least). Anyway, I hope u enjoy my monstrosity ♡ ]

✦ Request Status: Open

✦【 Type: Overprotective, devoted 】

: Let's start with how or what the weapon itself sees in you, shall we? Well, just like any other weapon, he himself needs a master in order to have any purpose in existing. And in this case, the master of this particular weapon is you.

: Weapon and master bond are quite complicated to break. The master needs their weapon to protect themselves and the weapon needs the master to have use of them thus care for them.

: When someone threatens its bond, it's either up to you, the master who should command your Blade to rid of such interloper or he'll purge the foul soul himself till they depart unto the afterlife. Oh also, he's a unique weapon. Under certain circumstances, he would moves on his own to protect his master. How marvelous is that?

: Now let's move to how he behaves. He follows you everywhere. To the highest mountain peaks of the Divine Ship, to the bottomless pit of lies built upon the Dreamscape, he is right there, guarding your back from any potential misfortune charging in your way.

: He thinks he is not quite worthy of your attention yet he won't let others bask in it either. Such an abomination like himself shouldn't even breathe the same air as you, yet he appears unwilling to leave your side anytime soon due to his obstinacy and selfishness. He convinced himself that he is doing all of this as an effort to keep the mortal wounds which scarred his past self away from you.

: The only moment when he stands the same step as you is when he deems someone 'dangerous' approaching you. Even if you inform him that the said someone is harmless, at least to you. All he would do is back up and glare daggers at them as his sword long unsheathed ready to dig into the interrupter's neck if they dare to even flash any form of hostility toward you.

: Should he act like a sword, then, should he too sacrifice his flesh to protect you. He'd scathe himself only when it's needed of course. He does not want you to worry your hearts out because he was too careless in his previous battle. He might hurt himself a bit more so your attention lingers awhile on him or his wounds. Will stop if you scowl him for it. But alas, he tends to forget things, including your scoldings.

: Once in a while, he is befuddled by how fast his entire world changed. Was his encounter with you part of Elio's script? But at the same time it doesn't make any sense to him, since Elio has always been open about how any part of the script would go. Was The Equilibrium finally witness his suffering and opted to to alleviate his agony by directing his life changing-encounter with you?

: Either way, those thoughts swiftly vanish as he remembered that nothing really matters as long as he is still by your side.

: As a mere weapon, he shouldn't act this way. Yet here he is. YOU tampered with his broken self and infected it with deuced mortal desire. Since he is yours now, shouldn't you take care of him as a good master?

: He is a bit stubborn and rash sometimes. But it's all for the sake of your safety. So, please forgive him and his wrongdoings, if you see it fit, do punish him. For he believes that you could do nothing wrong.

#•°. *࿐✶ ! 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝'𝚜—𝙵𝚒𝚕𝚎 #tw yandere #tw obsessive behavior #tw overprotectiveness #tw stalking #yandere x reader #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere hsr x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere drabble #yandere imagines #overprotective yandere #devoted yandere #male yandere #soft yandere

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octopotto · 7 months

Text

Brain Rot: TWST Cast with Saitama! Reader

OCTO NOTE: College has been absolutely brutal. These headcanons were worked on bit by bit these past few months :(

I saw some TWST fics that used pre-exsiting characters to based the MC off of and I wanted to try w/ one of my favourite characters.

WARNINGS: NOT PROOF-READ, OOC Behaviour, this is so cringe but very self-indulgent, mc is the most sane person in this universe, you decide if mc is bald or not, yandere if you squint hard enough.

SPOILERS FOR: TWISTED WONDERLAND

**The reader will ALWAYS be Gender-Neutral!

———————————-••———————————

Life at Night Raven College would be much more peaceful if MC had Saitama’s strength lol

Problems would've been solved quicker as well.

At first glance, you don’t seem to be a threat.

To most, you look like a regular, magic-less human on the outside.

And that’s what makes you so dangerous.

Don’t fuck around and overblot unless you have a death wish.

The Overblot crew definitely had one when MC swung their fist at them.

The whole prologue would be shortened.

Fun fact: You accidentally put too much force on the coffin door to get out, thus smashing Grim in the process while he was prying it open :D

Grim, the Ramshackle ghost, and Crowley were the first group to witness your impressive strength.

And by impressive, they mean terrifying.

To Crowley and Grim at least.

The ghost were shocked but very much amused after a couple moments.

God knows how the Ramshackle Dorm was still in one piece after that.

Grim is very happy to have a strong minion to protect him

Just don’t hurt him like you did with the ghost pls. And the door lol

Crowley would be most likely absolutely be afraid and made a mental note to keep track of you.

Especially since you were almost successful to killing him in his ghost form. He’s making sure that Ramshackle gets fixed quicker.

Crowley: “Great Sevens… How do they have such monstrous strength... This stowaway is just a magicaless human! My…what have I gotten myself into?? *sobs* OH IF I WASN’T SUCH A KIND AND GENEROUS SOUL I WOULD NOT LET THIS TYPE OF BEHAVIOUR BE PRESENT ON MY CAMPUS” *more obnoxious sobbing*

You and Grim: 😶😐????

Despite scaring and almost killing the shit out of the Headmaster, you still start off as a janitor lol.

Fast forward to the Mine Incident with Ace, Deuce, and Grim—

You basically massacred that monster.

A monster that probably injured many Mages and Wizards

You destroyed it in one punch.

On that day, Ace reminded himself to never piss you off again. Ever.

He loves cherry pie, but would rather not become the filling itself, thanks.

Deuce probably was gawking at you after the shock.

Not in a bad way

But in a good way y'know?

But he’s too shy to ask for advice for now.

This is basically the start of Deuce idolizing you and your strength.

Brain Rot:

Ace, Deuce and Grim are your self-proclaimed bodyguards.

At least THEY like to think that they are.

Listen, they know that you are MORE THE CAPABLE protecting yourself in fights or in any physical confrontations.

But that’s it.

You’re basically shit at everything else.

From completing your assignments to even showing up to class, it seems like in the trio's eyes that you NEED THEM to take care of you. You all are like family now!

So they all make an effort to help you out when you need it.

No really, if you keep forgetting to submit that one potion essay that Crewel keeps smacking your shiny ass head to complete, you’re going to get left behind.

They’re more like secretaries than bodyguards lol.

The post-overblot Spelldrive tournament was an absolute nightmare.

Well, at least for everyone but Ace, Deuce, and Grim.

They were GLOATING about how they were in the lead and challenged anyone to try and top them like the smug, over-confident assholes they are.

The only reason why they were in the lead was because of you. Simple as that.

The Savannaclaw gang put up a good fight

For the first 10 minutes in the match.

All Leona could do at that moment was strategize how not to get his and his teammate’s heads chopped off by the disc you kept throwing at them.

You are quite fond of Ruggie

More specifically: you were fond of Ruggie’s haggling skills.

If were had a choice to trade your god-like strength for his haggling skills and techniques, you wouldn’t hesitate one bit.

And y’know it wouldn’t be Ruggie if he didn’t take advantage of this. He would offer you advice and tell you if theres a huge sale going on at a near-by grocery store if you promise to lend him a hand whenever he needed it.

You were so tempted to say no

Not because he was shady and overall untrustworthy

You’re just lazy

This is his way to spend more time with you but he would never admit that out-loud.

If your MC is bald, instead of Floyd squeezing you, he will smack and ‘dribble’ your head as if it was basketball.

Jamil and Ace especially are amused.

God forbid you ever get a bad tan on the top of your scalp

You will NEVER hear to end of it.

Floyd also is your biggest bully.

jk but not really

Yeah he knows that you could probably kill him with a gentle tap

But when did that ever stop him?

He mainly does it because he wants to see your reactions

You’re so plain looking and your nonchalant voice and facial expressions do not help as well.

But remember only Floyd HIMSELF can do those things to you, okay? Only him.

If he ever finds out that some random NPC student was doing the same thing to you, You’re going to be finding that NPC tossed in a corner somewhere with almost all their joints mangled.

You like how generous Kalim is.

You probably helped him fan the fire off his ass in the ceremony

He’s was incredibly thankful and was able to remember what you looked like.

I mean, you literally saved him!

How could he not remember you?

You don't remember him but let’s not go there lol

Because you saved Kalim from being cooked, he always makes sure that you had enough food for the month!

He would practically beg, like BEG Jamil to make extras so you won’t go hungry.

Especially after experiencing what type of living conditions you were dealing with in Book 5.

Poor Jamil, not only is he working overtime for Kalim, but technically serving food for the person who ruined his plans back in Book 4.

Jamil packing food for you by Kalim’s request: 😡😡😡

totally did not try to poison your food on several occasions

Kalim also begs Jamil to let him deliver the food to you.

He can’t help it! He really enjoys seeing you happy when you receive something from him and Jamil.

You never complain about.

Free food = Saving money.

I mean, if you're being gifted something, why be rude and deny it?

Some students say that you were taking advantage of Kalim because of how easily you accept his gifts without anything in return.

And y'know they could be right

But Kalim doesn't mind.

As long as you're happy, he's happy :)

In Vil’s eyes, you are an enigma.

It’s like he can’t wrap his pretty little head around on how he feels about you.

On one hand, other than your god-like strength, you’re nothing special. When he first saw you he only disregarded you as another potato that’s not worth his precious time and effort on.

But on the other hand, Vil sees you as a blank slate. Something that ASKING for him to put his smooth and perfectly manicured fingers on. Someone that needs his guidance and skills.

He doesn’t care if you’re bald or have hair, it doesn’t derail him from the fact that despite you sticking out like a sore-thumb, you’re still so…plain looking.

You probably said some off-hand comment about how ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ to Vil and just walked off.

It might not meant anything to you

But it meant a lot to Vil.

When it came to the overblots and eventually Book 5, he felt as though he was in a spiral of questions that he himself must find the answers for.

And what were the questions that caused Vil’s current state of disarray about? You obviously.

He’s going mad

He can’t stand it.

You said that beauty is in the eye of the holder? Fine then.

He knows that he could do something for you.

Something marvellous, something beautiful.

For you and himself.

You had a new nickname for Malleus every time you guys end up running into eachother.

Malleus would always look forward to meeting you solely for the nicknames.

I believe that Saitama genuinely does not care enough to remember other people’s names that much

So that will be a trait for MC in this.

Malleus probably thinks this is a way humans show affection to each other.

In reality, you cannot for the life of you remember that weirdo's name.

Malleus: *Appears out of thin air in front of the MC*

Malleus: Greetings, Child of Man *smiles*

MC Thinking: ‘Why does this rando keep coming back? What was his name again?’

Malleus: *Anticipating their response with excitement*

MC: Uhhhh..

MC: Wassup…Horton? :D

Malleus: *Smiles at his new nickname*

It took a while for you to come up with a permanent nickname for him but he doesn't mind

In his eyes, it's your way of showing him how much you wanted to become closer companions.

Jack and Epel are always on your ass about “How to become stronger” and when you actually tell them the routine that you did at the beginning of your journey, they literally fell in disbelief.

They couldn’t believe it.

It was basically a simple workout routine

Both still believe that you’re hiding the secret of how you got to your level of strength.

Thus, joint workouts became also a thing within the NRC Campus and you are the leader.

Not by choice however.

Jack, Epel, and everyone else involved were really curious as to how you train.

I mean, look at what you can do! And you’re not even a Mage!

The first meeting was terrible due to the fact you almost obliterated the school.

One flick and the gym could’ve been in shambles.

That’s why Jack and Epel made sure to do it somewhere far and secluded.

And even then, you still created a lot of damage with minimal effort.

It’s incredible to those who look up to you.

Throughout the story, you gained some admiration and recognition along the way.

From Heartslaybul to Diasomnia, you unknowingly grab the admiration of those who either want to become stronger or see you as a hero.

Some might say that they see you as the messiah who was sent to protect the school.

But let’s not go that far.

You wouldn’t notice anyways

In your eyes they're all a bunch of weirdos.

———————————-••———————————

OCTO NOTE: Hopefully you guys enjoyed these very terrible brain-rot headcanons. I always found Saitama’s character interesting so I wanted to try out something new.

Again, I’ve been very busy so I can’t promise anything BUT I can say that there will be more Yandere FF7 fics coming soon! ;)

Thank you to everyone who enjoys my low-quality works! Hope you look forward to my new ones ❤️❤️

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dorkofclanlavellan · 23 days

Text

Sweet Doesn't Mean Naive (Fallout Characters)

Fandom: Fallout 4 Scenario: The characters meeting and falling for a reader who is very sweet and helpful and accepting. Initially they may think the reader is naive because of their nature but soon learn differently. Pairings: Cait x Reader, Danse x Reader, Hancock x Reader, MacCready x Reader, Nick x Reader + Copper Howard x Reader.

Notes: Zero uses of Y/N or Sole. I may do a part 2 for the other characters later, these are just the ones that I'm super inspired for rn. [Also this is based on me never being able to select rude options in video games unless I genuinely hate the character lol]

Trigger Warning: These may be slightly OOC as I'm still familiarizing myself with the characters (more so the FO4 characters than Coop)

Cait:

Cait initially underestimates you, thinking you're too sweet and accepting to survive in the Wasteland. However, she's surprised when she discovers your savvy side, handling dangerous situations with intelligence and composure.

Your kindness and willingness to help others win her heart, and she admires your ability to adapt and thrive in challenging circumstances.

Cait falls for you deeply, realizing that your sweetness is not a weakness but a strength.

Danse:

Danse is initially cautious around you, expecting you to be naive due to your sweet and accepting demeanor. However, he's pleasantly surprised when he witnesses your quick thinking and resourcefulness during a perilous situation.

Your kindness and helpfulness earn his respect, and he admires your ability to handle yourself in tough situations.

Danse develops feelings for you, impressed by your combination of kindness and savvy decision-making skills.

Hancock:

Hancock is amused by your sweetness and helpfulness, initially thinking you might be a bit naive about the dangers of the Commonwealth. However, he's pleasantly surprised when you prove to be street smart and savvy in various situations.

Your accepting nature and open-mindedness capture his interest, and he admires your ability to see the good in people while still being aware of the harsh realities of the world.

Hancock develops strong feelings for you, fascinated by your unique blend of kindness and savvy insight.

MacCready:

MacCready is cautious around you at first, assuming you're naive because of your sweet and accepting personality. However, he quickly realizes that you're more savvy than you appear when you show exceptional skill in handling dangerous situations.

Your helpfulness and compassion make a lasting impression on him, and he admires your ability to adapt and survive in tough circumstances.

MacCready falls for you, drawn to your kindness and impressed by your hidden savvy nature.

Nick Valentine:

Nick initially sees you as naive, given your sweet and accepting demeanor. However, he's amazed when you display a keen understanding of complex situations and handle them with grace and intelligence.

He finds your kindness and empathy touching, and he admires your ability to see through people's facades while still maintaining your positive outlook.

Nick develops strong feelings for you, intrigued by your combination of sweetness and savvy awareness of the world around you.

Cooper:

When you first met, Coop was fairly dismissive of you. He thought you were just going to get yourself killed fairly soon. Your generous nature was a sign of naïveté in his eyes. So he wanted as little to do with you as possible.

Then you gave him a months supply of vials for free. And he decided to stick with you. Deciding the best repayment was to protect you from the dangers of the Wasteland and yourself.

That's when he learned just how much he'd underestimated you. You were kind and always willing to help absolutely anyone but you were not one that could taken advantage of.

And that's what really impressed him. The more of your acumen that Cooper saw, the more he grew to care about you. Including your altruistic nature.

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout show #fallout preferences #headcanons #cooper howard x reader #paladin danse x reader #cait x reader #hancock x reader #john hancock x reader #maccready x reader #cooper howard #nick valentine x reader #tenderhearted reader

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helluvapoison · 2 months

Note

Hi!!! For the injury promts, could i ask for prompt 6+dialogue 17 with Lucifer? Im down so bad for this man-

you make it easy

warning: blood, violence, ooc(?), angsty and dramatic

Stars, he should’ve accepted your offer when you asked to join him on this morning’s errands. He was a fool to think his good mood would last.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Believe it or not, there was a time when Lucifer noticed everything. The sky is brighter than it was yesterday, he would say to no one, he simply noticed. Nowadays it was harder, a struggle to live outside his own mind. There was a passing thought every now and again. Hey, that lamp is new or Charlie’s nails match Maggie’s. But even those came at the worst times and he never pointed them out when he should, be it in the middle of an argument or entirely different conversation. Determined, he kept trying. More than that, he tried to see his world through his daughter’s eyes, to see that there could be good in the strangest places.

It was hard when the looming cloud of misery and evil followed him every time he tried to leave the hotel. The only time it didn’t was when he was accompanied by you. Charlie, as good natured and pure as she somehow was, was biased. Lilith’s doing, of course. His ex-wife made it seem like Lucifer’s decision was a gift and not the curse that it really was. But you… you were magical. You held an umbrella he couldn’t see that kept him safe from the endless troubles he made with his own two hands. While he knew he had every capability to protect himself physically, the inner workings of his mind was an entirely different story. Besides, it was, admittedly, nice to have someone else do it simply because.

You didn’t want anything from him. You just thought he was worth the effort.

If only he could think the same for himself. Not even two blocks into town did the thick clouds gather into a storm above his crown. It whipped and raged in his mind, hissing what he already knew. He wasn’t. God was punishing him for a reason and that reason stared him in the face every waking moment in Hell. Piles of bodies, gallons of blood, drugs, sex, etc. Not an hour could go by without seeing it all. So who could blame him when he lost sight of Charlie’s dream in the fog of guilt and self pity? How was he supposed to notice anything other than the deplorable sinners and their heinous ways?

He rounded the first corner he could, gasping and clutching at his vest. Whistle leaning against the cool bricks, a shadow stretched toward him. He saw. He saw the demon, he saw the jagged knife and he saw the intent in their eyes. Going against the King of Hell was a suicide mission but Lucifer saw exactly what they wanted from him. Retribution.

In all but a moment it was over. Red blood splattered on the alley wall opposite to him, merely adding to the number of stains it had worn over the centuries. Golden blood though? WItnessing that was a treat indeed. Through the tear in Lucifer’s ivory suit he could see it dribbling down his arm. As his eyes traveled over his attire he could see it was also blighted by the demon’s blood. That took precedence over his own injury but at the time he was grateful for the distraction. The news would lap up a scandal with the Morningstar name on it–

He needed to leave.

Lucifer attempted to summon his wings but they refused to budge. The sky was unsafe to them. It felt as if a thousand eyes were judging him from above. Fuck the news— Heaven was judging him.

He needed to hide.

The man slammed the end of his cane against the ground, instantly conjuring a portal that dropped him unceremoniously into your room.

A guttural growl ripped from his throat as he took in his surroundings of your belongings, “No! No, you stupid–!”

“Lucifer?”

You performed magic once again; turning gold into ice and freezing him in place with his back to you. He begged the wall for answers. What should he say? What should he do? Why the fuck did his magic bring him here when he just wanted to–

“Is that– Fuck! You’re bleeding!” You gasped

“Am I? I hadn’t noticed! Funny story, I didn’t mean to intrude– you know me, a gentleman should always knock– so I’ll just get out of your hair.”

As he spoke you’d scrambled over and stole any chance he had of absconding out of there. His voice got smaller and smaller until it was nonexistent. You reached not for his arm but for his coat, pulling it back to reveal a bigger patch of gold seeping through his vest.

“Oh that can’t be good.” He muttered, more annoyed than anything.

“Ok, uh, fuck. Fuck. You stay here and I’ll get—”

The second he felt you withdraw he whipped around and snatched your wrist like a lifeline. Your chest puffed with a smaller, quieter gasp as you drank in his appearance. Covered in more blood than just his own, he looked utterly panicked. Less than few had seen the king this way.

“No! No, I-I-I can’t have anyone see,” Daring to look down at himself, he foolishly thought maybe the gorey reminder wouldn't be there. And like a fool he winced when it was, “this. Please don’t tell anyone— Especially not Charlie.”

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in you, just a firm nod that filled him with relief.

“You’ll do everything I say then.” You bartered, though it wasn’t much of an option.

Lucifer’s heart threatened to plummet to his stomach. He tried desperately to blink away the fog of doubt that lingered. You wouldn’t blackmail him… would you?

“I… Yes? W-Well, what do you want?”

“I don’t want anything—! Er. I mean, I guess I want you to listen and be still while I clean you up? I’ll probably have to burn this before Al sniffs it out. And Nifty’s been going through my shit again so it’ll take me a minute to find…”

You began talking to yourself and Lucifer tuned your voice to background noise when he heard all he needed to. Of course you wouldn’t blackmail him, he felt horrible he even doubted that!

The word ridiculous came to mind as he looked up to try and spot that invisible umbrella you always seemed to be holding for him. While Lucifer searched the air, you got to work. He was malleable for your gentle hands, allowing you to strip his upper half and discard the evidence in the fireplace of your room (he didn’t complain, you’ve seen his suit collection) You diligently cleaned both cuts with utmost care, surpassing what he deemed acceptable and ignoring him when he said exactly that. Only when his skin was porcelain again did you bandage them with a nearly depleted first aid kit you kept under your bed.

“Here, it might be big on you but it beats freezing. The sixth floor has a vendetta against working heaters so it gets chilly here. That's why I keep the fireplace on all night.” You rambled as you pulled one of your own shirts over Lucifer’s head. He noted it was one of your favorites as he had seen you wear it often. Sometimes days in a row! He was more than honored; he was on cloud nine! If this is how you felt when you wore it, he’d never take it off.

“Thank you.” Lucifer said softly. For everything, he didn’t add.

“Anytime,” You replied dutifully. Then casually killed him with, “You can have my bed, by the way. I’ll take the sofa.”

“That-That’s much too generous. You’ve already done so much, I—“

“If it were me, would you let me leave?”

His eyebrows nearly shot up and off his head. The very thought of you bruised and bleeding in his room had flames licking the back of his throat. He needed to expel the smoke through a sigh, covering it up with a fist to his mouth, mumbling,

“You know I wouldn’t.”

“My sentiments exactly. So get your royal ass in the bed… Your majesty.” You bowed low and perfectly, keeping eye contact with him all throughout your bit.

A minuscule laugh escaped him and you beamed seeing your efforts were not in vain.

“Fine. Well… we could, ah, both fit in your bed. If you wanted! I-I’m just looking at it a-and that sofa is not an adequate sleeping area for you. Much too small.” He squinted at your couch disapprovingly, pursing his lips as he pretended his heart wasn’t about to leap out of his chest.

You stood to your full height, seemingly considering the offer, “Only if you’re sure I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Already pulling back the covers for both of you, he scoffed and actually tried to shoo your worries away with a wave of his hand.

“Hurt me? No one can hurt— Oh. Hm. You caught me on a bad day, I can’t say what I normally do.” Lucifer tucked his hooves under the blankets as he spoke, waiting for your cue of laughter that never came.

The bed dipped beside him, much closer than he was anticipating. Your forehead melted against the top of his fluffy, blonde hair. He watched your hands twitch, longing to embrace him but too cautious for your own good. If he wasn’t such a coward he would close the distance himself.

“I didn’t know you could get hurt.” You sighed heavily, finally releasing what had troubled you since you saw him.

Lucifer’s brows dipped in concern but he kept his eyes trained on the burning fireplace across the way, “Anyone can get hurt down here.”

“That shouldn’t be possible. You’re the king.”

“You’re going to give me a big head, darling. Being a king doesn’t exempt me from pain. There’s quite a few ex-kings down here that could tell you that,” He attempted to laugh. Subconsciously his hand landed over his bandaged side, rubbing the soft fabric of your well-loved shirt. “I’ll be alright. Besides it wasn’t an angelic weapon so it wasn’t a serious assassination atte—“

“What?” You reeled back with wide eyes, kneeling beside him and gripping his shoulders lightly, silently begging him to focus, “Wha-What do you mean!? People have tried to kill you before!?”

He stared at you like you asked him why the sky was red. He didn’t understand your panic but he knew he didn’t like it.

“Well… yes? Yours truly isn’t only hated by Heaven. There’s plenty of people down here that pray for the royals' downfall, Hellborn and sinners.” Lucifer tilted his head, confusion had his brows furrowing, “But they can’t kill me.”

“But-But you said it probably wasn’t serious? How do you know? Who did this to you; what did they look like? I-I’ll go find them and—“

“Good golly, breathe! Just let it go, it doesn't matter.”

Your eyes flashed red to let him know the fire of your fury you was blazing. But your eyes glassed over as well, pupils shrinking and jumping across his face like you were memorizing every detail. You held him so gently, like he was going to disappear if you let go.

“Yes it does! It matters to me because you matter to me, Lucifer!”

You were scared.

“I-I—“ He was dizzy with euphoric disbelief. You could tell him every day that you cared about him and he would become breathless every damn time. “I killed them.” He managed to choke out.

You didn’t immediately relax like he had hoped you would. Exhaling through your nose you nodded once that hit him with another magical wave of pride, solidifying his choice and making him sit slightly straighter.

“Good.” Your voice dropped dangerously for a moment. He was presented with the terrifying reminder that you are a sinner, you’re down here for a reason. He couldn’t linger on the fact when the red wisped away from your eyes and returned to the lovely shade he remembered and adored. “That’s why you didn’t want Charlie to know.”

“Anyone,” He corrected softly before his voice turned almost bitter, “No one can know. It might give people the wrong impression if their king did the opposite of what his daughter’s hotel represented. Not-Not that I care what they think but… I don’t want to let her down. Again.”

You practically pulled him in your lap, tucking your chin against his shoulder and sighing heavily. Your warm breath tickled his skin and sent every hair he had standing at attention.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” You promised.

“How.. is it so easy for you to say that?”

“I dunno.” You said all too honestly, pulling back slightly to rest your forehead on his, “Some people make it easy.”

Content with that answer, for once his mind quieted and stilled. He melted against you until he was safely tangled in your embrace.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #poiboiwrites #hazbin hotel headcanon #lucifer morningstar headcanon

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spynorth · 2 years

Text

Me: blows my nose

Hunter across the room: Gondor calls for aid! And Rohan will answer!

#help me I’m stuck #*ooc. what in the witness protection...?

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lyralaneoriginal12 · 6 months

Text

Your Voice is My Reality (Platonic Older! Damian Wayne x baby boy reader)

“There there, my sweet angel... Baba isn't going anywhere...”

Aged-Up Damian Wayne as Demon's Head of League of Shadows who also the loving and protective father of you. (It gives 'I will burn the world for you' kinda vibe, but oh well)

(WARNING! OOC)

Damian felt like his heart was about to explode, he fell on the ground and was wounded. The enemy had shot him right in his chest. The pain is unbearable but worst of all, his baby witnesses all this. It was a mistake already to bring you to this type of meeting. Here you are now, witness his assassination.

The League's assassins quickly neutralize all the threats and manage to take control of the situation. You was crying in fear. The enemy also looked scared of what he just did to the Demon Head. You pry release the hold of the nannies and quickly run towards your father.

Damian tried to breathe, he was struggling to stay alive and awake. The assassins and the nannies were shocked because Damian stayed in a pool of his on blood, with a gunshot wound on his torso. The Demon Head was bleeding profusely on the ground after being shot.

“Baba, no!”

Notice his son now right beside him, Damian raises his hand and slowly caressed your head. Even in this state, Damian’s mind only filled the need to protect you and to make sure that you are okay and safe.

“There there, my sweet angel... Baba isn't going anywhere...”

Says Damian in between pain while looking at you with a sad and concerned expression. He tried to fight the pain of the gunshot wound, which was making him feel a bit weaker each moment that passed. Damian vision start to blur. You were crying while clutching on your father's chest. Your beautiful blue robe completely soaks in Damian's blood.

Damian looks at his baby, with a loving, concerned and tender look on his face. With that, Damian closes his eyes. The vision is becoming more and more blurred until... the darkness comes slowly and gradually.

Time Skip

There’s many people wearing all black cloaks, circle the Lazarus Pit. The very pit glow in green and had a very rotten aroma. The smell that was coming from the green pit was awful, it was as if a lot of dead bodies were buried there. Damian's body being carried by the monks. He's ready to be revived from death.

You currently in the arms of Marie, one of the nannies of the League. You suckles quietly on your pacifier, with tiny cloak covering your body, watching the whole ritual carefully and looking closely at the monks.

The monks, Damian's advisors and the assassins were surrounding the pit, waiting for the moment.

You saw how the monks submerge their body until they were waist-deep while gently carrying Damian's corpse. Then, they carefully placed Damian’s corpse into the waters.

You watched as your father was completely submerged in the water. You squirms a little at Marie's arms, feel a little distress when you sees your father being submerged into the toxic green water.

“Hush, Master (Y/N)”

Assure the nanny at his young master to calm you down.

There's a long pause until Damian broke through the water with a feral cry, his jade eyes were glowing an eerie green. The greenish mist coming from the water then filled his eyes, making Damian see the surroundings very weirdly. Damian snarls at the monks and feel how his body is moving and healing on its own.

Damian starts to go wild and attacking the monks and assassins. Everyone knows the effects of being dipped into the Pit, how the user is driven temporarily insane. But well... Damian had used it quite a lot, so the effect doesn’t take toll on him completely. Damian keeps attacking the monks and assassins like a wild animal. Tearing them apart with his bare hands.

The madness continues until you calls out for him.

“Baba...”

The Demon Head stopped immediately and turned his gaze to those angelic voices, looking at the baby with malicious gaze. Damian saw that you was being held by Marie. You makes a grabby hand at Damian, which scares Marie who tries to protect you from Damian rampage.

Damian stops attacking everybody once he hears his name being called by his angel. Damian closed and opened his eyes once again, as his sweet angel's voice snapped him back to reality. Slowly but surely, recognition was in his eyes. Damian’s rage and feral behavior are over.

“(Y/N)…”

Damian slowly stands up, while look at all the shocked faces of the advisors, assassins, and monks, who are watching the whole scene with a confused and scared expression on their faces.

Damian slowly walks out of the Pit and goes to you whose still in the nanny arms. The green water wetted the concrete floor, but he didn’t care, he needed to embrace his son now. The servants quickly cover Damian's body with his majestic red robe, so he won’t catch cold. Like there’s no tomorrow, Damian takes you from the protective hold of your nanny. You quickly hugs your father in a loving manner.

“Baba”

Damian gently holds the baby in his arms, with the loving and caring eyes of a father, who's glad to be back with his little boy. Damian looks at the whole room, with all the advisors, assassins and monks looking at both Damian and his son, with a confused expression on their faces. Damian couldn’t help but chuckle a little especially to the monks and assassins he accidentally hurt previously.

“Well, this is... awkward...”

The people in the room couldn’t help but giggle a little at Damian’s remark.

Damian looked at his baby with a happy smile on his face.

“Hey, beloved. I missed you so much.”

Damian kisses you on your chubby cheek, as your cute smile touches Damian’s heart. You giggles softly when his father does so while pinching his your own nose cutely.

“Baba stinky. You are stinky!”

Damian chuckles a bit when you says that he is stinky. You didn’t go wrong though.

“Yes, yes, beloved. I must admit... I need to get a bath but now that I'm back with you again, my precious angel.”

Damian smiles a little at you again, feeling his heart being touched by your adorable words and the little pinch you gives yourself after making this sweet and funny remark. Then, you happily claps your hand.

“Bubble bath, Baba! Bubble bath!”

Damian chuckles after your comment as he gently touches your small and soft chubby hands.

“Yes, bubble bath it is.”

The servants quickly scatter to prepare bubble bath at the grand bathroom of the League of Shadows base.

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ynyaan · 4 months

Text

𝙃𝙮𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙨 𓏲𝄢 | 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𓆩♕𓆪

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

𝙎𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙮𝙏𝙤𝙎𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙨!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 | 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Summary: You who are sensitive to sounds, take Sukuna Ryomen to a festival. "What the hell was that? An act?" Sukuna scoffs, his eyes never leaving yours. Maybe, he won't ever look away again.

tw. description of panic attack, slight ooc sukuna(?)

note. imagine Sukuna in any body you want. I personally did not write him having four hands in mind, though this takes place in the heian era. so sukuna is sukuna in whatever body you wish him to be in <33

.ᐟ 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙤𝙣

You worked as a maiden at a shrine high in the mountains. It was established by the king of curses himself. Performing duties that consist of protecting and cleaning the shrine for the king to glamor at once he comes by. You weren't even sure why he visits everyday, it's not like the shrine grants miracles or oracles everyday and you doubt the king of curses even believes in the Gods.

Though since you've been stationed alone (with Uraume coming by sometimes), You have no choice but to make talk with the king himself. Plenty of times, you've overstepped boundaries, annoying Sukuna and asking him questions unrelated to your profession. You were so sure you were only alive because Sukuna actually enjoyed your company.

"My king!" You strode to Sukuna, who was closely approaching the shrine. He walks past you, not acknowledging your presence, yet it is by routine that you follow him wordlessly.

"There are no messages for you today, my king. The shrine here has been quiet and peaceful." you bowed your head even if his back was turned. The shrine was most likely quiet due to Sukuna's constant presence, his aura so dark it wards off the good spirits.

Sukuna walks over to his usual seat close to a tree. A seat that has a gorgeous view of the village below. You sit next to him silently, adjusting your white-painted kimono with streaks of gleaming red.

You fiddled your hands together. You recall a newspaper you read earlier today. It promoted a festival, the first one you’ll have a chance to witness. You hoped to bring the king of curses with you since you've heard all sorts of stories about friends, lovers, and families having a splendid time inside the festival, eating all sorts of junk, and enjoying the breeze till night falls.

"Out with it woman." Your daydreaming has been stopped abruptly, not realizing you've been staring at the horizon for a while now. You look at Sukuna, who has been staring at you for who knows how long.

"Ah..it's nothing, my king." you nervously say without thinking, knowing Sukuna expects a response the moment he asks for one.

"Lying will get you nowhere, doll." He says before relaxing his body whilst changing his sitting position to a more casual one.

"T-The festival, my king." You gulp, close your eyes, and take a deep breath. After all, these may as well be your last words.

"I was hoping to invite you, for I intend to participate tonight." You manage to finish your sentence alive, but you are offered a scoff and a scowl. "Why do you think I'd go with you? A creature as lowly as yo-"

"Sukuna. I-I promise you, it will be fun!" You cut off Sukuna, your hands curled into a fist, and your pleading eyes lie on his. Sukuna’s eyebrows rose, surprised by your disrespect. Regardless, you slowly moved closer to him and proceeded to softly grab his arm.

"Sukuna, please! Just give it a try. I guarantee you won't regret it." You plead once more, recalling the memory of when you first tried saying his name. It was the first time you thought the end of your life must be due. Surprisingly, Sukuna did nothing but stare at you with those piercing eyes before walking away. An unspoken cue that he allows you to.

"Brat, go by yourself." He says before standing up and leaving the shrine, leaving you alone. Did you just try to invite the King of curses to a night together? and somehow you are still alive? you count that as a win.

The time to go to the festival has arrived, and you are currently standing outside the entrance. The festival opening gave u a warm greeting with the decor, the lanterns above that gleamed red and gold. Muffled voices could be heard everywhere, and people were constantly rushing in and out.

You haven't finished admiring the outside when someone had bumped into you from behind. You quickly turn around and see Sukuna Ryomen, dressed in a proper kimono that covers his chest. He doesn't look at you. He simply huffs with his arms crossed.

"Sukuna!? you came!" You smiled, catching Sukuna staring at your lips.

"Whatever, doll. It's my duty as king to oversee what ruckus mortals have caused." He grumbles before walking past you and into the crowd.

You smirked in triumph. This night will be more than good, you could tell. You grabbed Sukuna’s arm and walked next to him into the festive night.

Shops of food and trinkets were to be seen, the sky lit up by stars and lights, and the stage preparing something of the sort. You and Sukuna push through the crowds and into the shops. You were about to get separated till you felt the man behind you grab your hand sternly. Your hands felt warm, your heart pounding in your ears, and all there was left to do was push forward.

"Mmn! This taste'm reall’ good'm" You try to word out while chewing on the street foods you bought. "You really'm should try shom' kuna'." You say, still munching.

"What did you call me?" You turn your head at him, his expression showing pure surprise. "..Hm? I called you-"

dun, dun, dun. The hearing of drums could be heard loudly throughout the festival. Following that was a series of cheers and yells from the crowd gathering around the stage.

Dun Dun Dun Dun. Your grip on your food tightened. Sukuna glances at you, but you don't seem to notice. He'd expect you to rush over to the stage by now.

Your heart starts pounding. The taste of food left on your tongue feels uncomfortable. "Sukuna, I think we should-"

Bam, bam, bam, the drums were now louder and repetitive without stopping. A pair of guitars chimed in as well, and a speaker took on the middle. The crowd yells and cheers- and jumps- and the- lights and the scene escalating in front of you was moving and everything is so, so, loud.

You breathe. Or maybe you don't, because Sukuna has grabbed you by your arm. Your stomach is knotting so tightly, and your heart is pounding so loudly it's ringing in your ears. The drums, the guitar, the speaker, the lights, the crowd, the-

Sukuna grabbed you on both sides of your arms. You try to focus on his face. Why is he yelling, you wonder? what is he yelling, you wonder?

Your vision cleared slightly. Sukuna, who is always stone-cold, is looking at you with an emotion you haven't seen on him before. His eyebrows were bridged together, and he's saying too much, saying things too fast. He doesn't understand what’s happening, he doesn't know what to do.

Another loud boom rang in your ears, and the speaker screamed, 'Get ready for tonight's biggest hit yet!'

You were shaking like a leaf by now, your arms slowly covering your ears as your eyes were tightly shut. Suddenly, someone was carrying you, the breeze hit your skin way too fast, and you realize that Sukuna was running.

You don't know how long you’ve been carried, but the moment you opened your eyes, you were atop a hill, the breeze cold and the noises muffled. The festival could still be seen, and the lights were still so bright.

You wipe your tears. A second ago, you felt as if your eardrums were to burst and your irritation would explode out of you.

"You scared me there, princess." You look behind to see Sukuna sitting on the grass next to a tree. His words came out softer than he intended it to be.

"What the hell was that? An act?" Sukuna scoffs, his eyes never leaving yours. Maybe, he won't ever look away again.

You walk slowly toward him, you felt exhausted and limp. You walk till your standing right in front of him.

"I'm sorry Sukun-"

Fireworks. A sudden, jumpscare-like sound appears behind you.

You flinch hard, but before you could cover your ears, big hands wrap around your head and pull you down. Sukuna pulls your head to his chest, his hands covering your ears, and your face flushed at his actions.

His chest was rock solid, but surprisingly, it was so comfortable. It felt safe, undeniably secure. You thought you could fall asleep in his arms right then and there.

No, you wanted to see the fireworks. You were here for the festival; it's not fair not to see it to the end.

You slowly shift your head upwards to look at Sukuna. But before you could part your lips to say something, he kisses you.

Sukuna Ryomen, kisses you.

His hands were still covering your ears, and he used his hold on you to pull you even deeper. His kiss was passionate, deep, harsh.

Your lips part, and your mouth is still gaping. Sukuna smirks wordlessly before moving your position so you could see what was left of the fireworks.

Your back was rested on his chest, and his hands were still covering your ears. You forgot to react to the kiss and were taken aback by the beauty of the fireworks. It was a shame you couldn't tolerate the sound of it, but the sight was so much more worth it.

This was made possible because of Sukuna. Sukuna, the King of curses who has kissed you tonight. You were sure your life would never be the same again.

an. apocalypse by cax started playing while writing the kiss scene; im soft.

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 <𝟥

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dyns33 · 4 months

Text

Family business

I still need to watch the show but I wanted to do a Alfie Solomons x reader. I'm sure all the characters are ooc, so sorry about that.

The good thing about being part of the Shelby family was that its members were very united because blood ties were sacred. The problem about being part of the Shelby family was the same thing.

Y/N often repeated it to herself, closing her eyes to keep her calm, while her brothers asked ridiculous or difficult things, considering that she didn't have the right to say no to them, just as they didn't have the right to tell her no either.

The fact that they didn't have the same mother didn't change anything. Their father may have been an asshole, but they were all Shelbys, united, hard-working, persevering, and here for each other.

They didn't often ask her things that would put her in danger. They were terribly protective of their little sisters, especially Arthur, but there were times when a feminine touch became essential to finalizing a deal or gaining someone's trust.

Almost no one knew that Y/N was a Shelby. Her mother had died when she was young and Polly had welcomed her into this strange world as soon as she learned that her idiot brother was her father. However, as soon as she was able to earn her own money, Y/N found a small place to live on her own, although she remained close to her family.

For Tommy, that made her perfect for a mission he'd had in mind for some time.

“I want you to become Alfie Solomons’ secretary.”

"Who ?" Y/N had asked, trying not to wince.

"It doesn't matter. He doesn't trust easily, but he's been having trouble managing his business for some time, too many unforeseen events, too many incompetent people. You are competent. Earn his trust, become indispensable, listen to his conversations, read his letters, and brings us all important information."

Y/N didn't know what important information was, even less so since she still didn't know who this Alfie Solomons was when she showed up at his office. Her brothers had decided that it was best for her not to know too much, not because she might be afraid, but because the man was very good at seeing through people. It wasn't very reassuring.

However, at first glance, Mr. Solomons did not seem that terrible. He showed a big smile when he saw Y/N, opening his arms and inviting her to come and sit down, offering her tea during their interview and listening attentively to everything she said. Despite his broken back, he insisted on walking her to the door, lowering her hand and declaring that he was delighted to have found his new secretary.

Two things quickly became quite clear after several weeks working with Alfie Solomons : he wasn't running a bakery at all, and he was perfectly charming.

Well, it happened that he shouted at certain employees, even hit them, and probably worse when there were no witnesses, but with Y/N, he was undoubtedly the most sweet and polite man. the sweetest in the world.

Even when she made mistakes, which didn't happen often, he would shrug his shoulders and say it was her fault, because he was asking a lot of her, before offering her a cup of tea and some biscuits.

Sometimes she would find flowers on her desk when she arrived in the morning.

“Slept well, love ?”

"Very well, Mr. Solomons, thank you. And you ?"

"Call me Alfie, love. And I haven't slept yet."

"Are you saying that so I don't wake you if I find you asleep again before a meeting, Mr. Solomons ?"

“I know you will do it no matter what, you cruel woman.”

When they didn't have too much work, they talked. Alfie Solomons had an opinion on everything, stories to tell, anecdotes or more or less strange questions on philosophical subjects as well as on perfectly futile or strange things. He often made her laugh, which seemed to please him.

On the contrary, he did not like it when another employee, client or business partner allowed themselves to be rude to his favorite secretary. It wasn't often, word had quickly spread about what Mr. Solomons did to those who misbehaved with Y/N.

For some, they were sleeping together. It didn't help that he often drove her home, even if it was only when it was very late, raining, or very cold.

Even though she promised them it wasn't true, her brothers were a little worried. They didn't like seeing Alfie hovering around their little sister like that, even if she brought them some interesting information thanks to her position.

It wasn't normal that she managed to have so much information, which worried them even more because Alfie Solomons really wasn't the type of man to take such a risk, so either he had discovered who she was and he was either giving Y/N wrong informationsn or he liked her so much he let her have everything.

The Shelby brothers didn't know which would be the worst. With all the information turning out to be true, they didn't know what to make of it.

Y/N didn't ask herself these kinds of questions, too busy with her work as a secretary, trying to keep her distance from her employer who was much too charming to be honest, and who was obviously not very appreciated by her family .

He sometimes asked her to marry him, but only as a joke, when she brought him a meal or when she forced him to put a pillow behind his back so that he wouldn't suffer the next day, or when She took care of his business perfectly.

Everything stopped after Arthur's beating.

The next day, Tommy called his sister to order her to leave. He was kind enough to apologize when he told her that she would probably have to move, but that she could always stay to Watery Lane with them while she found something, to make sure that Alfie wouldn't find her. Although he didn't see why he would look for her.

Solomons was disappointed to learn that his beloved secretary had to leave town for family reasons, but he seemed to understand, kissing her one last time on the hand and wishing her a good life.

“I guess it’s still a no for marriage ?”

"Mr. Solomons…"

"I know, I know, I'm just an old idiot. Take care, love. Shalom to your brothers and sisters."

Several months passed before this little sentence made sense to Y/N.

It hadn't shocked her, because the man talked too much for her to take in everything he said, it was only polite that he wished the best for his family, and she had been too busy not to show that their separation affected her.

Not seeming to see that she had become attached to the wandering Jew, Tommy did not warn her when it was decided to do business with him, against the Italians. He hadn't warned Arthur either, who wasn't happy to see Alfie again.

The meeting went well, from what Y/N understood. Alfie presented his "apologies" to Arthur, before agreeing to help him sort out their affairs with the Italians. He didn't ask for too much money, which surprised the brothers a little. He didn't hold them by the balls, it was the opportunity.

But no, he decided to be a gentleman, helping them in honor of old times. As he left, he only asked Tommy to greet his charming sister for him, winking.

The deal then no longer really mattered, because the Shelbys discovered something much more important. Solomons had discovered who he had hired as his secretary. He knew Y/N was one of them.

"… You're not serious. Thomas, you said it would be temporary."

"I know… I know ! Little sis, you have to understand that he is very dangerous. He is going to get revenge, he is going to hurt you and there is no way I am letting that happen."

“He won’t do anything to me.”

"It's business. He'll do it like he did to Arthur. You need to understand that you're not safe out there. Stay with us, stay home."

Y/N's worst nightmare was happening. Locked up with her family, without hope of independence or freedom. She should never have agreed to help Tom.

Unfortunately he seemed to be right, because she saw Ollie several times through the window, and other employees of the Bakery hanging around in the street. It was too risky to go out.

Then the flowers arrived. Deliveries of packages containing perfumes, books, tea. There was no need for him to sign them, but Alfie Solomons seemed to insist that the Shelbys understand that he knew full well where to find their sister.

Arthur wanted to kill him. John thought he needed to speak with this madman before it was too late. Tommy considered that just not bringing up the subject would make him calm down, too busy with other problems.

When the flu came, staying indoors protected no one. Ada brought the illness home and soon the most fragile members of the family were bedridden with fever.

A doctor came to examine them, to the surprise of the older brothers, who did not have enough money this month to pay for his services. He only said that they didn't need to worry about it, taking care of Finn, Ada, then Y/N, before going out without asking for a penny, leaving them with remedies and instructions.

The others' health improved quickly, but Y/N remained sick, shaking and sweating, sleeping for several hours before being awakened by nightmares, tired as if she hadn't slept for days.

One night, a hand on her damp forehead brought her out of her torpor. The hand remained still, only the thumb caressing her skin.

"You have to sleep, love. I brought tea, for your throat."

“Al… Alfie ?”

"Yes, love. Everything is fine, rest."

"It was you… who sent the doctor…"

"I wasn't going to let my favorite secretary die from a slight fever. Why isn't anyone at your bedside ? I don't like it, I'm going to have a word with your brothers."

Arthur and Tommy would undoubtedly have taken this as a threat, Solomons managing to enter their home and sneak up to their little sister's room without being seen, then being able to do her all the harm he wanted.

Y/N knew he wasn’t going to hurt her. It had been obvious for several weeks that he didn't intend to, with all these ridiculous gifts and letters, where he kept asking her if he wanted to marry her. He was having fun, nothing more. He continued to tease her, while scaring the Shelbys.

"It's not very nice." Y/N whispered, trying to keep her eyes open.

“It’s too easy to annoy them, it’s not my fault.”

“I wasn’t talking about that.”

"Ah. You see, love, I don't know what to do about it anymore. I did everything to make you see that I was serious, I who never seem serious. I knew it would be difficult at first, because you thought I didn't know who you were. I knew before I hired you. Then you left, I thought I was going to die, but I told myself that now that you weren't working for me anymore , if I said that I knew, then it would be easier. What should I do ? Buy a horse ? A trailer ? There is a gypso rite that I don't know to ask for the hand of a woman ? I have to go and see Arthur and duel him ? I can do it, he doesn't scare me, love. I can go right now."

"No… Stay with me…" she begged him, holding out her hand, coughing again.

Unable to not get agitated when he was speaking, Alfie Solomons had stood up to show that he would go to her brother's room to beat his face, but he immediately sat down next to Y/N, I took her hand which he kissed with all the tenderness he was capable of.

“Stay with me…” she repeated miserably.

"Yes, love, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, I'm here."

And he was still there when she opened her eyes the next morning, holding her hand and smiling as her fever seemed to be going down. The moment was slightly ruined by Finn, who wanted to see if she was better and who screamed when he saw Solomons. Alfie yelled louder, even if it was to order the bellowing to stop because Y/N needed to rest.

This of course alerted the entire Shelby family, who ran into the room.

At first, Alfie refused to leave. He promised he would stay, so he would stay.

Then, seeing Y/N's pleading look who didn't want anyone to get hurt, he sighed as he agreed to follow the brothers into the kitchen, for a discussion, but only if he was allowed to come back to see her to say goodbye to her afterwards.

"If I didn't kill you first…"

"Oh, Arhur. Shalom ! Glad to see you haven't lost your humor !"

Ada stayed with her sister, helping her to drink, rubbing water on her forehead, and not being able to stop herself from asking her what had happened. Y/N reassuring her, explaining that Alfie had sent the doctor, that he wasn't dangerous, not at all.

Unlike the others, Ada did not take care of their brothers' less than legal affairs. She understood that this Solomons was not a good person, but neither of them were, and he seemed very attached to Y/N.

"And you ? What do you think of him ?"

"He's a fool."

"I see. You like him. Do you think Tommy would be alright with you dating ?"

"I'm afraid Alfie doesn't care about Thomas' approval." Y/N sighed, trying to hear if any screams were coming from downstairs. "He is very stubborn."

"I thought I noticed, with all these gifts. If he asks you to marry me, I want to be a bridesmaid."

“He’s asked me before, several times.”

“Damn, Y/N, Arthur is going to have a heart attack.”

Fortunately, the eldest did not have a heart attack, but he initially refused to believe Solomons' sincere feelings. The others were skeptical too. As she predicted, it didn't matter to Alfie, who only cared about her opinion.

He also pointed out that only Y/N had the right to order him to leave, by telling him that she never wanted to see him again. One word from her, and he wouldn't bother them anymore. But a yes, and he would be the happiest man in the world.

“With a beautiful family of fucking gypsos, but the happiest all the same.”

“She will never say yes to you !” John replied.

"Fucking hell, still speaking for her. Let's ask her. But not now, she still needs to recover. Leave her alone."

The brothers did not obey, waiting until the wandering Jew had kissed Y/N's hand and finally left to question her in turn, despite Ada's protests.

Only Tommy remained near the bedroom door, watching his sister in her bed. When their eyes met, he seemed to ask her a silent question, and she felt tears forming, unable to hide her answer.

He nodded, before whistling to tell everyone to get out. He said nothing, only smiling tenderly as he closed the door, leaving her alone with his blessing.

When Alfie Solomons would be back, with a white horse, new flowers and his proposal, she could say yes to him if she wanted, without fear of war. Because even though business was important, family was more important, and if Y/N was happy with him, then no one could say anything against that.

Her future husband only had to remember that if he hurt one of them, her the first, he would pay for it.

#peaky blinders #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfiction

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soulessjourney · 4 months

Text

T'ill I Go Blind

Paring: Astarion x fem!DurgTavReader

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: When Gortash reveals details about your past relationship, Astarion refuses to entertain any of it.

Warnings: OOC Astarion, angst, mentions of truama, mentions of death, jelous Astarion, Gortash, fluff, Humor, Astarion of course making a few out of pocket comments, Scared Astarion

A/N: It's basically cannon at this point that Gortash and the Durge are exes or had something going on, so enjoy my depiction of just how their first meeting after so long would be like.

Who would have thought that you would find yourself standing in Baldur’s Gate, face-to-face with Gortash, who gazes at you with surprising tenderness? "Well, isn't it my favorite assassin? It has been too long since we indulged in each other's presence," he remarks. You raise a quizzical brow as your arms fold over your chest, leaning against the protective metal.

"Ah, yes. How could I forget? You lack the memories of what we once shared. A shame, truly. Your father never was one for the ideals of... affection." You resist the urge to let your jaw drop at his words, while Wyll stifles a laugh beside you.

"I'm sorry, but you're telling me you and Tav had some sort of connection?" he asks, looking between both of you. Beside you, Karlach goes stiff, and you reach out through your connected minds, assuring her that you have no clue about the nonsense the man is spouting. Upon your words, she visibly relaxes, folding her arms and shifting to stand a step in front of you, ready to protect you from the person she once trusted if need be.

"We did, in fact, have a connection, and that connection was the reason why your friend now has no memory of who she is," Gortash states, a frown appearing on his lips. "Her father felt threatened by the idea that his perfect assassin was falling for someone, so why not punish those who fell into forbidden love." From beside you, a sudden gag sounds, and Astarion clears his throat.

"I do apologize, but that had to be the most sickening thing I've ever heard, and I don't mean the fact that her father stripped away her memories." It's hard to suppress a laugh at Astarion's words, especially since you can feel the jealousy radiating off of him. Astarion is what you'd call a cat; he thrives when affection is given on his terms, but he is quite territorial with things that belong to him. In this case, you are that thing—mind, body, and soul. You are his human, and he would rather tear the world to shreds than give you up.

Reaching back, your fingers gently brush against him, and he seizes the opportunity to interlace his fingers with yours. A sense of safety and confidence washes over you as his hand firmly holds yours. Gortash, observant of the interaction, advances toward both of you, prompting a tenseness in your body.

"I see you've found a replacement, Little Flower," he remarks. The use of that nickname freezes you, causing your body to stiffen as memories flood your mind. Flashbacks of your younger self and Gortash flow through your consciousness. Despite the rugged and worn-down appearance, Gortash possessed qualities that rendered him remarkably handsome. In the recollection, you both stood in the middle of a flower field, having sneaked off after some convincing. He delicately placed a flower in your hair, affectionately uttering the same nickname.

Gortash notices the recognition in your eyes, prompting him to smile at Astarion. "Seems she remembers that exchange very well. The kiss we shared sealed our promise to one another. Yes, you two are quite...adorable, but let her stay where she belongs. It won't be long until your little romance disappears when her memories return."

Astarion vibrates with anger, and all you can do is squeeze his hand, offering silent reassurance. Gortash attempts to provoke him in a way he knows best, wanting to witness the dissolution of the bond you share. However, Astarion surprises everyone. Instead of reacting impulsively, he closes his eyes, takes a few deep breaths, and regulates the tightness of his grip around your hand. He's wrestling with the urge to draw his knife and thrust it into Gortash's chest.

Your chest swells with pride at how far Astarion has come from the first encounter when he held a dagger to your throat. "I'll never let her go, not until she tells me to. And when she does, I'll do everything in my power to protect her from a distance because she doesn't deserve to revert to the life she once lived. Not when she's worked so hard to build herself a new life. Not when she's almost killed herself fighting the demons that claw at her, begging to escape."

A snort escapes Gortash as he listens to Astarion's words. "To think someone as powerful as you settled for that," he spits, redirecting his gaze toward you. "Have your fun, Little Flower, but as much as I would love to bring up the past and the memories we share, I have other matters to discuss with you," Gortash states, pacing around the room. "Your sister is stirring up trouble and making things difficult. Her newfound thirst for power after you left is creating tension in my city." You know precisely who he is referring to. In your few encounters with Orin, she made it clear that you both shared the same father.

"What Orin does is none of my concern. If she's hell-bent on trying to take something I don't even want, then let her. I don't know what kind of life I lived before this, but I don't want any part of it. I was given a second chance to finally live, and I won't be ruining that over some family drama," you shrug. You notice Karlach adopting a look of approval at your words. Seeing Gortash again is tough for her, especially now that you know you apparently had some kind of relationship before waking up on the ship.

Gortash sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, and nods. "Yes, yes, I quite understand what you are saying. You're breaking free from those torturous chains, but your family matters affect the lives of those in Baldur's Gate. I don't care if you are sweeping your matters under the rug, but I want you to kill her. Take out Orin and bring me her stone, and when you do, I'll assist you in defeating the Elder Brain." Something about his words is taunting, making you question the truth of his alliance with you. Almost as if sensing your doubt, he leans against the table behind him.

"I do not wish to fool you; I don't stand for the loss of innocent lives. Orin is out of control, and the brain will wreak havoc if given the chance. If we can control the brain, we can destroy it."

Your mind races as you consider the situation. Releasing a defeated sigh, you clench your jaw, allowing your face to fall into a blank stare. "Fine, I'll kill her." The sound of your group protesting fills the room, echoing off the walls. Gortash only smiles at your words, letting his eyes lock onto yours as your friends attempt to talk some sense into you. After a few minutes, Gortash dismisses you and leaves the room.

Your companions follow behind you, attempting to get your attention before Karlach finally speaks up. "Tav, stop walking away. You know what he did to me and the hell I've lived through. Accepting his offer is a betrayal to me, so you better explain. If you don't, then I have no choice but not to trust you or to stay in the group." Her words hit you hard. She was like your sister, a reason for you to live.

"I'm playing him at his own game. We saw the power these stones had over the brain when we fought Thorm, meaning he had plans for them when he got them all to himself. Trust me, Karlach, I don't trust him either, but we need to take advantage of this. He could be the key to leading us right to the brain so we can destroy it, so I can save all of us," you whisper, looking up at your friend.

Karlach meets your eyes, searching them as if trying to detect any lies in your words. So, you open your mind to her, letting her read your intention with Gortash. Silence fills the area around your group as they wait for Karlach's response. "I trust you," she finally says, sending you a bright smile. You let out a breath of relief at her words as Astarion walks up beside you. You could feel how tense he felt, and you immediately knew something was wrong.

Things between the group had gotten tense after you entered Baldur's Gate. You felt the urge calling to you more than ever before; Astarion was only steps away from having to see Cazador again, and Karlach finally had to come face to face with the person she trusted her life with and who stabbed her in the back. Sending him a look, he nods slightly before looking away. It was a silent communication that you two would be talking when you got back to camp, and you could only hope this wouldn't end in a fight between you two.

---

Upon your arrival, you couldn't help but notice how Astarion immediately headed toward a shaded area. Jaheira spoke quietly to you about matters that needed attention in the city, but your gaze remained fixed on your lover. Jaheira fell silent before laughing quietly, drawing your attention back to her. "You two are quite fond of one another. Go to him; you've been worried about him since the walk back," she said, patting your arm soothingly. Nodding in gratitude, you walked towards Astarion.

He sat on the ground, gazing up at the sky, with rays of sunshine warming his face through the leaves. Stopping behind him, you were unsure of how to initiate the conversation between the two of you. "Star," you said, your voice carried by the slight breeze swirling around you. You sensed him tense, knowing that the forthcoming discussion would likely be tense as well.

With his back to you, he leaned his arms on his knees, shifting his gaze ahead. "So, you were the one involved with the absolute and why we're like this," he stated. Your heart dropped as you looked down. Indeed, you were. Your memories flooded back when you entered Wyrm’s Crossing, remembering who you were, who your father was, and what he wanted you to carry out.

"As angry as I want to be with you, I can't. I know what it's like to feel trapped under a command without being able to escape. I mean, look at what Cazador made me do. I want to be angry, but I just can't," he continued, and your shoulders dropped as you listened to his words. "But that's not why I'm questioning things. Not us; I could never question us. What I'm questioning is what will happen when you fully regain your memory. You and Gortash obviously have something, or rather had something. He talked to you like he was seeing his lover all over again. He looked at you like he was undressing you, ready to show our group of lovely friends that you still belong to him."

There it was—the feeling of your heart shattering in your chest as you listened to his words. He was terrified of losing you, and you had no idea how to reassure him that you're his.

Moving to stand in front of him, you drop to your knees and gently grasp his face in your hands. Opening and closing your mouth, no words escape you. Lost in his eyes—those crimson-red orbs that appear scared and broken—a part of you feels angry, angry at yourself and angry at Gortash for dredging up a past you have no memory of, a past you never want to revisit.

“I meant it when I told you that you mean a lot to me, Star,” you finally say, brushing your thumbs against his cheek. “You’re my entire world. You stayed by my side when the urge wracked my body, when I attempted to take your life that night. You didn’t judge me when it got so bad I caved and harmed an innocent person. You held me and told me that I could beat those urges. You saved me, Astarion, and I will not be leaving you.” His tears begin to pool under the pad of your thumb as you speak.

“Losing my memory was my second chance at life, and then I met you. You gave me something worth living for. Hells, all of our friends did, and I refuse to go back to that life I once lived. I don’t want to be a killer, and I don’t want to be his daughter. I want to be my own person. I want to be able to make my own decisions and control my own body and mind. So, my little Star, I won’t be going anywhere because my home is right here by your side.”

You can tell your words have moved him in some way as he is now fully sobbing. Pulling him to you, you let his head fall onto your chest as you allow him to fall apart in your arms. The fear that plagued him during your meeting with Gortash finally leaves him as he deflates in your embrace. Soon, his sobs quieten, and you both lie under the tree, his arms wrapped tightly around you, almost as if he fears you will disappear if he lets go. In that moment, a peaceful and intimate moment, three words are finally shared between you two. In that moment, you vow to destroy Cazador and show him what true power is. In that moment, the urge claws at your insides, begging to be unleashed, and soon enough, you will let it take over your very being.

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whoxeology · 4 months

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can you write the sfw alphabet with percy? hihii i thought it was so cute and i really love ur writing style!!

- b 💖

A/N: AGHH OF COURSE I CAN. This is my first request and I’m so excited. I'm so happy you enjoyed my writing :3 Thank you so much for request B 🫶🏼

⛧☾༺♰SFW Alphabet♰༻☽⛧

PAIRING: Percy Jackson x Reader

WARNINGS: Established Relationship, Swear Words, Possible spoilers for TLT, Kissing, Making Out, OOC Percy.

W.C: 3.05k

A/N: I have not read the books only knowledge I have of Percy is from the movies, TV series, and multiple fics I have read. While making this I have Logan Lerman Percy Jackson in mind but feel free to imagine him as you wish. With that being said this is purely for fun and these are just my headcannons. You are more than welcome to disagree and leave feedback.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Percy is the personification of affection. Whenever he's around you (which is always) he has to have your attention directed towards him. His love language is obviously touch so numerous hugs and countless kisses throughout the day. He's not afraid of PDA hell he's proud to show you off as his. He'll kiss you like there's no tomorrow when he leaves. Only to be back an hour later. When he's with you he will always be touching you in some sort of way. Hand on the small of your back, holding your hand, arm wrapped around your waist any way for him to remind himself that you are not going anywhere.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You would be at camp before he was, it would be similar to his and Luke's dynamic (Minus the betrayal). You would be friends with Luke, meaning he would introduce Percy to you. Percy being Percy would go straight into his usual sassy self. Seeing as you and Percy were much closer in age you and him would hit it off. He found himself as protective, as loving, as sarcastic towards you as he was towards Grover.

After being told that someone he calls a friend would betray him he didn't think it would be you or Luke (He was definitely wrong about one of those) and when it was found out to be Luke he kinda ices you out. He thought that considering how close you and Luke were you had to know. When he finds out that you really didn't know about Luke he lets you back in. Slowly as if he's still on guard and worried about you suddenly also being with Kronos.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Percy is touchy in public when it's just the two of you he practically lives and breathes in you. If you are in his cabin (Which is always because he has his own cabin) then he'd love to lay on your chest, arms secured tightly around your waist, and your legs wrapped securely around his waist. Like a koala on a branch.

Sometimes when Percy has had a rough day he likes to cuddle with you in his lap. Having your hands tangled in his hair while his hands drift from tracing your spine to caressing your hips. Your legs are on either side of his thighs as his legs are slightly bent pushing you further into him.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

When it comes down to settling, Percy would love to be with you for the rest of his life. However, the idea of having children with you would concern him a little. Not because he doesn't want kids with you more rather because he wouldn't want to put you or the children in danger. If you guys did have kids he would certainly wish for all boys but the second your baby girl was born he'd adore her with every fiber in his being. She'd so be spoiled and reign over her brothers.

Percy sucks at cooking but at least he's better than Luke. He knows how to cook the basics eggs, spaghetti, blue cookies, etc. He'd always try though. For you, he's willing to learn loving the way your eyes light up when you eat whatever concoction he made up with. Even when it's not edible.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

No. Percy would rather be dragged into the depths of Tartarus than break up with you. Oh lord and if you tried to break up with him. Good luck.

"Percy I think we should break up" "No" "No? What do you mean no this isn't your choice" "You're right it's OUR choice and I said no" "Percy this isn't up for negotiation" "I know I said no and that's it, sweetheart you are not getting rid of me that easy nice try tho" " I hate you" "You know you love me"

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

From the moment Percy saw you he knew you'd be the end of him. He'd be anything you'd want him to be. A friend, a best friend, ..... a lover. He knew that if you just wanted to be friends he would be by your side through everything, If you wanted him to be a lover he'd probably run through camp cheering then run back to you and twirl you around. He'd be yours from the moment you saw him.

The only marriage he saw growing up was his mother's and Gabe's. He knew he would be nothing like Gabe. He would want to marry you whenever you were ready. He would be the best husband he could possibly be.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically Percy is strong. Like really fucking strong he killed a minotaur by himself at age 12 During training sessions, he goes easy on you unless you tell him not to (Even then he's still holding back). Other times Percy would try his best to be softer around you in fear of hurting you.

Emotionally Percy is deflective. Percy isn't the type to sit down and talk about his feelings. When his feelings get too much he tries to ignore them. He asks about your day, he's overly active in camp activities, he's up and about. When it comes to your emotions Percy tries his best to comfort you. He is not entirely sure how to handle emotions too well but he tries.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Percy hugs you as if you are going to disappear. He hugs you any chance he gets. He'll come up to you and wrap his hands around your waist while yours go around his neck. Stupid grin on his face while you and him rock back and forth. Or sometimes when you're busy he'll come up and hug you from behind head resting on your shoulder watching you as you do whatever it is that you're doing. His hands always soothingly slip under your shirts the feel of your skin on his makes him feel at peace.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Percy knew he loved you since he first saw you so of course he would say it rather fast. Most of the time it was a quick "I love you" before he ran off to do gods know what but on your first date he looked into your eyes and practically bared his soul to you and said in the most hushed voice "I love you" as if this time he feared you would disappear or would suddenly realize you deserved better.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Percy wasn't the type to get jealous. Only because he didn't have a reason to be. Everyone in camp knew he was your boyfriend. No one dared to make a move on you especially when your boyfriend killed a minotaur at 12 and is the son of Posiden. However, when an old friend of yours showed up in camp things went a little sour. The newcomer was not only gorgeous with his wavy blonde hair, beautiful tan skin, and piercing honey-brown eyes but he was naturally funny, talented, and really fucking flirty. He'd always be with you and seeing as you were an old friend you felt obligated to show him around. When Percy found out that this hunk was an ex of your good gods was he beyond jealous. He immediately stuck to your side and made sure Mr. Supermodel knew that he was yours and was not going to be replaced.

He'd call you baby, love, and doll in literally everyyyyy sentence. He'd take your hand and interlace it with his and examine your hands together very visibly while you talked to your friend. He'd stare at your friend as he kissed your cheek. While you were mid-sentence he'd whisper something in your ear that would either make you lose focus by giggling or turning bright red while being speechless.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like?)

Percy can hold his breath for quite some time so his kisses are so long you feel as if you'd faint. Percy kisses with his all. Trying to get in your skin basically. He'll wrap his arms around you or pin you to a wall and push himself impossibly closer to you. He loves to kiss you anywhere he can. Your hands, your lips, your arms, your legs, as well as other places of course.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Percy can not be trusted around children. Swear if you left a child with Percy they would learn enough curse words to make Hades himself gasp in shock. If they're older and a bit more hardheaded leave it to Percy to knock em around. With the younger kids at camp, he'd definitely scare them a few times while training.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Percy is not a morning person. Most of the time you'd wake up, manage to get ready, have breakfast, and have at least 2 training sessions before he even stumbled out of bed. On the rare occasions when Mr. D dragged Percy out of bed and into the mess hall Percy would manage to say at least 2 sarcastic comments to and behind Mr. D's back and sneak in a least 3 cuss words before promptly falling asleep with his head smashed into the table.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Since Percy has his own cabin you and him often spend the nights together there. The two of you are entangled within each other grasp. Since your cabin was fuller than Percy's you would stash some of your belongings in his cabin per his request of course so that it felt more like your place too. You had a mushroom blanket that you crocheted years ago that Percy had draped over his bed. It wasn't at all symmetrical or pretty since it was the first one you ever made but Percy cherished it nonetheless. You'd often times sneak out of his cabin with him and go to the lake. He loved to be in the water and you loved to be with him. You'd stay out way past curfew and swim until your legs burned and your fingers were prunes.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Percy would unknowingly say things around you that made you wonder out loud about his past. It took him some time to open up but after you guys got together he'd tell you all about his life over a short span of being together. You'd be in the lake with his arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he told you about his mom. He told you about her smile, her hugs, her famous blue cookies. His eyes would sparkle brighter than the stars themselves as he talked about her.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Percy is impulsive but he does not lack patience. If anything he has more patience than most. He knows this and he uses it to his advantage. Seeing as he makes everything around him into some kind of joke he loves to antagonize his enemies into attacking first so he can learn more about them. The only times when he'd lose his patience is when someone would talk about his mother. his friends, or you in a negative tone.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Percy's mind is all over the place. He doesn't remember which Disney princesses you were obsessed with in 4th grade but he does know the story behind your name. He seems to forget the bigger details and rather latches onto the smaller the ones that others seem to forget about. He doesn't remember your favorite artist but he does remember the beat of that one song you loved as a child but were never able to find the name of.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Percy's favorite memory in your relationship was the moment you said I love you back to him. Percy would always say "I love you" before running off. This time you had told him you were going to sword train with Annabeth and he said that he loved you and that he would find you later he had to see Grover. Percy was shocked when you pulled him back by his armor and kissed him deeply before almost breathlessly whispering that you "loved him too". He practically skipped his entire way to Grover and was blushing the whole time.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Percy is extremely protective over you. Not in an overbearing way because gods know you can handle yourself but Percy would rather be there for you and keep you safe than find you in a position that would require you to protect yourself. In Capture the Flag when you are on the opposite team he finds ways to flirt with you instead of fighting. When he and his teammates stumble upon you and your teammate he tells him that he has you when in reality you most likely end up holding a sword at his throat while you straddle him playfully of course.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Percy will gift you the moon if he thinks it will make you happy. Every morning you'd wake to a single flower from him. Every day was a different flower. It surprised you how he even managed to find so many. Every time you'd receive a flower from him you'd book press them. Yes, it took a long time but they looked beautiful once they were done and framed.

On dates and anniversaries, Percy would tell you the night before to be at his cabin at 10 pm and to dress comfortably. The next day you'd wake up and he'd be gone. That whole day you wouldn't see or hear a single peep from him. The first time he did it you freaked kinda worried that something had happened to him. Grover told you he was doing Percy things and just to be at his cabin. Of course, Percy would be there and he'd take you for a stroll through the forest that led to a lighted picnic area. He'd leave camp to personally get you your favorite takeout, a new book to add to your forever-growing collection, and a new pack of Polaroids for your camera. How he got the money he'd never tell. All that mattered was that these were gifts that he knew you'd love. After the forest, he'd take you to the beach and you guys would swim till well past curfew. Having to run away soaking wet, clothes in hand, giggling manically as Mr. D almost catches y'all.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Swearing. Look swearing is fine we're young adults and there's nothing wrong with it. However, Percy has a really bad habit of dropping curse bombs all the time. Around your peers, the younger kids, hell even Chiron. The face he makes when he realizes he very loudly said "what the fuck" around Chiron is always funny.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Percy has some self-esteem issues deeply rooted in him from his childhood. He'd never consider himself to be jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Not like you of course. You'd tell him how gorgeous and he'd just blush your words making him feel prettier. Eventually, you'd have to knock him down a few pegs or else he'd turn into a bobblehead.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Percy is attached to you. Like deep-rooted attached. He wouldn't be able to focus on anything if you were gone for a long time. He'd constantly think about you and become worried the longer you were gone.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Once you and Percy start dating and he's more comfortable with you he's so gossipy. He will literally be so involved in the tea you tell him and vice versa. When he hears something really juicy from the other campers he practically runs to you to tell you.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Dishonest and Disloyalty. Loyalty is Percy's biggest moral. If you were disloyal to him it would sever any friendship/relationship with him (Luke). Along with honesty. If you are loyal to someone, truly care for them, or even just mean well then why would you lie.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

When Percy first joined camp he couldn't sleep too well the nightmare of his mother getting crushed replaying over and over in his head. Eventually with you by his side, he was able to have a better sleep schedule.

He tosses and turns a lot in his sleep oftentimes accidentally bruising you in the night. You'd have small bruises on your legs from where he'd kick you and smaller ones on your arms from where he would accidentally elbow you as he turned. He'd also have bruises from where'd you kicked him back of course he was such a heavy sleeper he'd never wake up and wouldn't notice till days later.

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