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sheeple · 4 months

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Miracles don't exist | 35: The cellar

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Torture / mutilation / time is weird in this one [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

The Death Eaters drag you kicking and screaming down the hall. They've managed to disarm you before you could do sustainable damage to any of them. You trash in their hold, trying your best to get out and run. Maybe you even have a chance to snatch your wand.

You let out a groan as they throw you on the ground. A hand reaches out and grabs a fistful of your hair. You whimper and move along with the hand. Bellatrix has a sneer on her face as she presses her wand into your neck.

"For how long have you been spying on us?"

You shake your head as much as her hold permits. "I haven't-"

"LIAR!", she screeches and raises her wand. A hot red flash passes over you before your body contorts painfully. You let out a yell. The feeling of millions of knives piercing your body. "TRAITOR!"

By the time the curse had let up, you're breathless. Your head lulls to the side, tears in your eyes. And to be honest, the only thing you can think about is that you're glad Theo isn't here.

She shoves something in your face. A letter. The same one you wrote during the Ministry hearing. It must have fallen out of your pocket during the chase. Yaxley for sure must have picked it up.

"That isn't... mine." Determined, you look at Bellatrix and give her a sneer.

Bellatrix raises her hand and strikes you. Your cheek stings and flares up as you feel your nose starting to bleed again. "You dare to betray the Dark Lord?! Betray your own kin?! You should be killed!" Bellatrix raises her wand again, a murderous glint in her eyes.

You don't flinch. If you're going to die, you'll die fighting. Collecting the blood in your mouth, you spit it in Bellatrix's face. An audible gasp goes around the room as they watch the red glob hit her face.

"Go ahead, kill me. You were never my family", you hiss, giving her a cold stare, "I wish you would have rotted away in Azkaban."

Bellatrix shrieks, going absolutely ballistic. She summons a knife and holds you down. First, you’re hit with another round of crucio so you stop struggling in her hold. You can handle that. But then… The point of a knife gets slowly pressed into the flesh of your collarbone before the spell has run its course. You try to wiggle away, crying and sobbing as the pain only multiplies as Bellatrix carves something in your flesh.

It feels like it goes on for hours. At one point you stopped moving, seeing no will to do so. You stare off into the distance, seeing the Malfoy's stand huddled together. Draco looks horrified while Narcissa clings to Lucius.

Is there no one who would stand up for you? No one would save you from this torture? Yes, but you’ve sent that someone away. For his safety. Yes, everything for Theodore’s safety.

By the time Bellatrix is done, you're halfway passed out. You barely notice how you are grabbed and dragged somewhere. Somewhere dark where the door slams loudly and a heavy lock turns.

You lay curled up on the cold floor, your body twitching and gasping for breath. In between the ringing in your ears, you hear footsteps approaching you.

"Please", you gasp, "no more. Please..." Rolling to your belly, you do your best to crawl away from whomever it may be that is ordered to do your next round of Crucio.

"Miss Black?", asks a soft voice and you stop. You roll back and look at the person who said your name. Mr Olivander

A relieved sob escapes you. At least he won't hurt you.

The older man — who looks worse for wear — gives you a small smile. "Miss Black- or should I say Mrs Nott? Cedar, almost 13 inches, swishy, with a core of unicorn hair, if I am not mistaken." Mr Ollivander nods and walks off, returning with a lantern.

With much difficulty, you push yourself into a seated position. "Oh... you're bleeding, dear." He points to your collarbone. You reach out but hiss as the flesh is still tender.

You look around, your eyes adjusting to the dark. "Where are we?"

Mr Ollivander hands you a small bowl of water. Your hands still shake as you take it gratefully and take slow sips. "We're in the cellar." The old man groans as he goes to sit against a wall.

He looks deadly pale and his cheeks are fallen in. "How... how long have you been down here?", you ask carefully. He must be the one you've heard screaming a while back.

Mr Olivander's shoulders slump. "I'm afraid I do not know. Time moves differently down here. It's made so no witch or wizard can use their magic to escape."

The wandmaker spoke the truth. Despite the once-a-day meals — at least, you think it is. Could be a once-in-many-days with the way your body aches — there is no indicator if it's day or time.

Draco often sneaks you and Mr Olivander extra food. It's mostly in the form of an apple which he rolls through the bars of the door. You turn away every time he whispers your name, his hands clutching the bars tightly. Only after he leaves deflated, do you scramble to eat the apple.

As time passes Mr Olivander and you get cellmates. At first, it's Griphook. He's a sour man who distrusts any who's a witch or wizard. He mostly sits in the corner and grumbles to himself.

Next is Luna. You're actually happy and at the same time sad to see her. You throw your arms around her and squeeze her tightly. "Are you okay? Are you broken? Does something bleed?" You turn her over and rake your eyes over her front to see if any blood has seeped into her clothes.

"I am fine. I however do not know where I am." She looks around before her eyes fall on Mr Olivander. She makes her way over to him and strikes up a conversation as if it's a normal Tuesday at tea time.

Running a hand over your face, you turn towards her. "What date is it?"

"The Christmas break has just started."

The shock dawns upon you when you count out the months. It's been three months. Three months trapped in this blasted cellar. You knew it was more than a couple of weeks, as your wound has healed and is only a scar now.

Oh Merlin, Theo must think that you've died. That either Bellatrix or Voldemort have killed you. Tortured you before ending your life abruptly and too soon.

You slide down a wall, hand clasped over your mouth as tears spill out of your eyes. You stay like that for Salazar knows how long. The heartache of the idea that Theodore mourns your death makes you immobile with sorrow. It feels pointless to move if you can't communicate with him that you're indeed alive.

What you can only assume are months passing by before something happens. There is screaming from upstairs before someone's coming down the stairs. You hide in the dark, pressing yourself up against the wall as two people get pushed inside.

The two figures rush towards the gate. "What are we gonna do? We can't leave Hermione alone with her."

Luna slowly creeps forward and calls out a name. "Ron? Harry?"

The two figures turn around and as a light flickers on, it indeed are Ron and Harry. Harry's face looks pretty busted up.

Slowly everyone comes out of their hiding spot now. The two boys' eyes fall upon you. Harry rushes towards you, wanting to hug you. But you flinch away, hiding behind a pillar. Harry stops with a frown on his face. "What happened to you?"

An agonising scream is heard from upstairs and your stomach drops as you recognise the voice. Hermione. "Oh no", you whisper, moving closer to the door. You flinch as she screams out. Involuntarily, a whimper escapes you. You can imagine what Bellatrix is doing with her.

"We have to do something!" Ron turns towards the group, a distraught expression on his face.

Mr Olivander shakes his head. "There is no way out of here. We've tried everything! It's enchanted."

Another whimper escapes you and you lean your forehead against the icy bars as Hermione pleads and screams.

Harry crouches down and takes something out of his sock. A shard or something. He speaks to it, begging for help.

Wormtail comes scurrying down the stairs, wand in hand and pushing Ron and Harry away. He takes Griphook before he's gone again.

Ron returns the light and at the moment Dobby appears. He stumbles a bit but is overall happy to see Harry. "Dobby? What are you doing here?"

"Dobby has come to rescue Harry Potter of course! Dobby will always be there for Harry Potter!"

You take a good look at the elf. It has been some years since you've seen him. Harry actually made Lucius free Dobby in your second year. You know that because your uncle loudly complained to the whole manor how annoying it was that they lost a house elf.

Dobby seems to spot you and bows to you. "Miss Black! It is good to see you alive."

You give him a small and tired smile. "Happy to see you too, Dobs."

"Wait- are you saying you can apparate in and out of this room?", Harry realises. Of course, the Dark Lord's minions didn't house elf-proof the cellar. They're idiots.

And so a plan is hatched. Dobby firstly take you, Luna, and Mr Olivander to some address Ron provided.

"No", you protest, "I want to help. I want to fight. I want to hurt them like they hurt me!" Tears fill your eyes.

Harry shakes his head. "You're in no condition to fight. You have to go to safety."

Reluctantly, you hold one of Dobby's hands with Luna and you are pulled and squeezed before you land on something wett. Sand.

Hurling, you puke up the joke of a meal you've been provided with. Falling over, you lay on your back and stare up at the sky. Never once in your life, you've been so happy to see it being overcast.

Pressing the balls of your hands into your eyes, the first whimper escapes you before you start to weep. You're okay. It's finally over. You're out of that blasted cellar.

The only clear though is that you have to find a way to track down your Teddy and hope he hasn't been doing anything stupid in your name.

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles @fruityfrog505 @fluffybunnyu @theroyalmanatee @shinrjj @hegdus @kermits-bitch @m1kasawps @noah-uhhh-what @mypolicemanharryyy @fals3-g0d @decapitated-coffee @thatgirljas13 @slytherinambitious @raineisms @mastermindmiko @timmytime17 @regsg18 @supernatural-lover @bubybubsters @lafrone @hermionelove @the-sander-fander @akengii @aliciacat20 @unstablereader @burns-in-the-sun @rachelnicolee @damagelove @mqndrqke @llpovi @clairesjointshurt @222244445555 @jolly4holly @padf00ts-l0ver @fandom-life-12 @prettyb1tchsblog @pari-1 @f14ever @nopedefe @randomgurl2326

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dragon-chica · 1 year

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Goldilocks and the Creeps

Fandom: Creepypasta, specifically the old x reader interpretations.

Tendency to write one of these for random fandoms when I have trouble napping

You need a place to sleep, here's a pros and cons list you're tried.

Masky: Has no problem with you sleeping in his bed -he's the problem. Too tired to care about getting changed he flops into bed, on top of his covers still dressed in his jeans and doesn't even bother to kick off his boots. Asleep in minutes and sounds like he's sawing logs. You take his extra pillow to sandwich out the sound.

Bloody Painter: His room retains the coppery scent from old paintings hung on his walls, but his otherwise tidy and welcoming, not a big cuddler and might take the opportunity to paint you after you've gotten comfortable and fallen asleep. Not a bad choice.

Liu/Sully: Liu is wonderful, very respectful and a little shy if you want to snuggle. Quiet and sleeps on his side, has a cozy comforter. Sully just wants to fuck and will wake you up to ask once Liu's asleep.

Eyeless Jack: Seems great, comfy enough bed, doesn't snore, will keep to himself or hold you if you prefer. You can easily ignore that deep intake of breath when his nose is at your nape. All's good until you wake up to him licking you like he's taste-testing if you're done.

Hoodie: Sure you can sleep in his room, but it's so sparsely decorated like a cheap motel room and he sits on the edge of his dresser filming you. He's not being particularly weird about it, normal and chill if you talk to him.

Sally: Offers to share her bed when she hears you need somewhere to sleep! An offer too sweet to turn down, but her pink princess children's bed is too small for you both and you end up the rest of the night on the couch, but thank her with pancakes in the morning.

Dr. Smiley: You were exhausted of everyone else and went down to sleep on his vacant operating table, dragging your pillow and fuzzy blanket along. All was well until he arrives home with a new victim screaming in tow.

Puppeteer: Not the most welcoming but you push past him and flop onto his bed. Will trace little lines down your shoulders and arms while you sleep trying not to wake you, may subtle turn you towards him with his strings to see if you'll cuddle him.

Laughing Jack: Super cuddly and comfy! wraps his arms around you multiple times and just envelops you in warmth and he's soft like felt, great night until you get really fucked up dreams. Can't untangle yourself then either.

Jason the Toymaker: His bed is covered in stuffed toys he has made and he is very comfy to hold/be held by. Doesn't sleep much so if you wake up his bright green eyes illuminate looking down at you, but that doesn't disturb your sleep. Similar freaky dreams again though.

Ticci Toby: Great cuddle buddy, little spoon, cozy to snuggle against. Until you wake up with a bloody nose from his elbow and he's still snoring away.

Slenderman: Does he sleep? Might just 'stare' at you for asking if you can sleep in his bed, without an answer you're not sure if he's mocking you or bewildered by the question, too tired you just try the next one. Maybe Smile Dog's bed is empty.

BEN DROWNED: Very high on the list, just take an eye mask and noise canceling headphones, have his bed to yourself while he games. Plus if you sleep-grab him to cuddle he'll just freeze up at let you. No body heat tho and his room smells like doritos and moutain dew.

Jeff the Killer: Sleeps like he is dead, does not move a muscle, such quiet breathing, not bad if you don't mind the feeling there's a corpse next to you. But if he forgets to put his eye-mask on you turn over and see his eyes flickering back and forth at crazy speeds.

Jane the Killer: She prefers her space but might let you out of pity seeing those eye bags and hearing your issues. Gives you a face mask before bed and it's a proper sleepover until you pass out. Wants to talk pros and cons (you're giving her this list) of everyone later.

Kagekao: 10/10, finally no issues. You two get drunk and chat before bed and you peacefully pass out in a good mood. Lets you sleep in his bed whenever.

#Creepypasta x reader #Creepypasta imagine #Kagekao #Jane the Killer #Jeff the Killer #BEN DROWNED #Slenderman #Ticci Toby #Jason the Toymaker #Laughing Jack #Eyeless Jack #Hoodie #Puppeteer #Dr. Smiley #Sally #Bloody Painter #Liu and Sully #Masky

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nerdyvocals · 10 months

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9 People to Know Better (except I'm not tagging 9 people)

I don't normally do tag games, but I got tagged in this twice (by @jealous-kippen and @remmixx, my beloveds <3) so here I am! (also as I'm writing this out I am realizing that while both posts were titled the same way, it looks like they had different question prompts??? So I'm just gonna combine the two)

Favorite Color: Purple! Any shade will have my heart but I am partial to more red-toned purples. (PV, if that means anything to anyone who sees this other than me, you know who you are)

Currently Reading: Three things! In terms of actual books, I've been slowly making my way through the Riordanverse since my university did The Lightning Thief in my second year (first school in my state to do it once the rights were released!) since I somehow never got into Percy Jackson as a kid, and I'm currently on Son of Neptune. I'm also one like my third or fourth re-read of Eurydice by Sara Ruhl, since that's the play I'm designing the costumes for for my senior project. And in terms of fanfic, I woke up to a notification about this yesterday and Actually Screeched.

Last Song: Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan (ft. Post Malone), which was a bit of an accident. I use siri to request music while I'm driving and I asked for Dial Drunk and was singing along until I got jumpscared by the slight difference before Post Malone's verse. Although if you look at my spotify, the ROTPL album has been on repeat for weeks.

Currently Watching (Series): I've been hyperfixated on ROTPL and have watched it over a dozen times at this point, which is probably not healthy, so I put on NCIS last night for background noise while I ate dinner and accidentally watched like six episodes.

Currently Watching (Movie): Saw the Barbie movie the night before the actual opening with my coworkers (We don't cross picket lines people! I was not asked nor invited by any company, and I paid full price for my ticket. There's a one-screen theatre in the town where I'm doing summer stock, this relic from the 50's, and they were able to get access to the film a day early and did a special first come first serve premiere.) and we all sobbed the entire way through.

Current Obsession: Rise of the Pink Ladies. Full stop. I'd seen clips of it when it first aired in April but I was iffy on it in spite of how good it looked. Like most, I'm a little tired of reboots and remakes, and while I did clock Cynthia as being queer within two seconds, (I believe my exact words were "That's either a very butch lesbian or the eggiest egg to ever egg.") I was Convinced it was a queerbait situation. Plus I was nearing finals and didn't have time to get into a new show. But then Crushing Me was trending on tiktok and I realized this was not queerbait, so I put it on to have something playing while I packed for summer stock and it's been the only thing I can think about since mid May. It got me writing fanfic again for the first time in years, if that tells you anything. Speaking of,

Currently Working On: A follow-up to my previous fic, Steady, Steady! I wanted to have it up this week, but it is a behemoth. I'm a little over halfway through my plot outline and I'm at 10,441 words. Fun fact, this will be my longest single-chapter fic so far. Not just in the fandom, not just on AO3, but ever (so far!)

No-Pressure Tagging: @merely-a-player, @penguin-writes-books, @el-fandom-birb, @marley-barnes112, @isweartheyregayyourhonor, and @look-at-those-niceass-rocks (since I've already dragged you back to tumblr kicking and screaming)

#tag game #this was fun #and also longer than I expected

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ninja-go-to-therapy · 7 months

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In The Depths

new take on an old concept but i <3 s5 so i will never stop writing about that

ao3

Prompt: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.” / Solitary confinement

Fandom: Ninjago

Characters: Lloyd Garmadon, Morro (mentioned), Kai (mentioned)

Summary: Lloyd is alone. He thinks?

Trigger Warnings: blood, possession, self-harm

436 words

There was gunk building under his fingernails. He didn’t know where it was coming from — maybe it was connected to the intense itch of the bones in his forearms. Like his skin was pulled too tight over them. Like whatever was inside of him was taking up too much space.

He looked down at himself, realizing what exactly it was. Something different. Rough, gritty liquid that was — it was — vibrant and hot and what was the word — what was it…?

He searched his mind, but it felt about as empty as this place. Huge, blank, and nothing else.

Color, his inner dialogue said helpfully. Red.

Color. He barely remembered what color even was. But it was different. It was beautiful. And he needed more.

He raked his nails across his arms, desperate now, not only to get the squirming itching creature beneath out, but to see more of that color.

Red was something. It was something… something important. It brought to mind a face and a voice he couldn’t remember quite right, but they were there anyway. It was good. Red was good. He needed more of it.

Pricks of it beaded along his skin, angry itching underneath. The red under his nails continued to increase. It smeared over his fingertips, over his palms. Sticky, wet, warm, like fire…

Whatever vague recognition that may have been there was chased away by It. His arms were forced apart from each other, stuck behind his back by some unseen force. The red was fading, like it had never really been there at all.

“...oyd please, I know you’re still in there, you can fight him!”

That was… oh. Oh. He snapped awake, fighting to the surface of his mind, shoving on the barrier that kept him isolated. The world snapped into vibrant clarity.

“Kai—” he gasped, actually seeing for the first time in — he didn’t know how long. Where were they? Why was everything still white, still cold, still — snow. They were in the snow.

His brother’s face softened, letting down his guard. “Lloyd? Is that really you?” he asked, lowering his weapon.

His body reacted against his control, drawing his own sword in an effort to strike Kai down. Lloyd couldn’t stop it before he was being dragged back down, kicking and screaming as he was drowned out of his own head.

He landed somewhere deeper than before, colorless, lightless, and stuck in a straitjacket that left him unable to move an inch. His life faded from memory, trickling away like a bucket with a hole in the bottom.

The world was empty, just like this place.

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muninnhuginn · 2 months

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for the ask game, spy x family 🕶💣

Sorry for the delay! I got ambushed by rl and then ambushed myself for several more days and-- anyway, I had to put this under the cut because it got long. Thanks for asking!

my favorite female character

yor yor yor. I like her for a few reasons, but I think the main thing is just generally her main emotional arc thus far. how she wants to 'belong' but how she also needs to 'fit in' and how it also circles around the idea of normality. she thinks she wants to be normal when what she wants is to be accepted. and she knows she needs to be *seen* as normal for safety reasons (sth sth societal commentary even outside of the cold war backdrop) but she doesn't understand *how*. what does it mean to be a mother and to be a wife and what aspects of that does she want to fulfill for herself and which is she just doing because it's part of her cover.

she has all these needs and wants and hasn't yet figured out how to even begin untangling them. and despite that, she's still one of the most emotionally intelligent characters in the series.

my favorite male character

loid. he's the obvious option but still. I always tend to appreciate the anxious types and whilst technically all of the main three have their own little anxiety spirals, loid's way of overcomplicating things is my favourite. he's a very intriguing mix of anxiety, denial, and competence.

I am very much enjoying the length of time it's taking to wear him down. we only got full confirmation he's actively compromised as of the mole arc which is super recent but for me the pacing is just right. he has to earn that character development and be dragged through kicking and screaming.

my favorite book/season/etc

volume 10 (starts with [redacted] arc and has some good handler moments (though I *think* my favourite handler chapter is later on))

my favorite episode (if its a tv show)

genuinely not sure. I do think the very first episode has a really good mix of comedy and earnestness with a hint of the underlying tragedy in growing up during wartime. it spells out everything to expect down the line in a very nicely balanced way

my favorite cast member

I... don't know? I think for Yor's VA this is my favourite role of hers whilst Anya's VA I prefer most as Frieren but like. IDK tbh. Can I skip?

my favorite ship

Not super into shipping in this fandom, but overall, I'd say twiyor. the fact that it's a 'fake' relationship but they enter into it on honest enough terms that they actually make something really healthy for both of them out of it. they each mutually get something out of it too.

yor wants to be useful. she's grown up providing for yuri and now he's gone all she has left is her job, but this 'relationship' and her new family give her the opportunity to *do* something. to defend and protect her people. and to give her someone to confide in, where she's never had that before.

for twilight, he's always been planning and preparing for all possibilities. always acting, never letting anyone see what's beneath, until he had forgotten even himself. one of my fave twiyor moments was in the recent chapter where twilight gets home and immediately his legs give out, because he feels *safe*. he's let his guard down with yor and even if he's worried about being compromised, he let it down because he trusts in her character. the remedy for someone so full of masks is someone devoid of them, and for all that yor is the thorn princess, she has never faked *who* she is.

and tying back to what I was saying about yor and normality before. the fact that loid knows what it's like to pretend means that he's in the position to tell yor that she's good as she is. she doesn't *need* to fake her whole personality to fit in. sure, they both have their covers, but for the large part, what's beneath is genuine.

a character I’d die defending

I think nightfall's character may not be as developed as most people would like at this stage, but the way she's written is very deliberate. she's a compare/contrast with yuri (and also to some extent, with twilight) and she shows how love and obsession intertwine. how *obsession* can be dangerous. the mole arc to me is waving a big red flag above nightfall's head and saying that if she doesn't change something, if she keeps metaphorically diving headfirst in front of twilight, then she's going to end up the one riddled with bullets.

a character I just can’t sympathize with

not that we're likely supposed to but donovan desmond

a character I grew to love

handler! it's not that I ever disliked her as such, but for a long time she just seemed a kind of girlboss-esque character with a neat character design. she had her moments (bond arc speech and also propaganda chapter my beloved), but it wasn't until we had her focus chapter where we followed her day that I was like "oh." Like, I knew that she'd lost her family, but I was falling for the facade that she was on top of everything. And the realisation that she wasn't? That she was deep in depression, but you know who might dig her out of it? Her pet dog and a little girl. Definitely got to me.

my anti otp

anti otp is a bit strong a feeling for it, but I think the way I read damianya differs from a decent chunk of the fandom. I tend to see it as one-sided and am perfectly happy for it to stay that way or for them to just end up becoming better friends down the line, but I know what I'm against here so I'm not going to place any bets.

#asks #ask meme #pinkie-satan #spy x family #sxf manga spoilers

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twiceasfrustrating · 2 years

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Good morning from where I’m from, may I please ask for angst headcanons for Mammon please, it take place before the main story, he ran away from home for a years and whenit was time for the exchange his kid got chosen. When asked about if Mammon talks about them, his kid replied that they’re dad only has a dead sister and no other family

Rating: Teen and Up

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!

Relationships: Mammon & GN!MC

Characters: Mammon, Main Character

Additional Tags: Angst, GN!MC (they/them), child abandonment (unwilling), swearing, Mammon hooks up with a random lady who isn’t MC, I have a very poor opinion on deadbeat parents so it leaks out in this one

A/N: It's 3:30am as I finish this up. So even though I am posting it in the morning, goodnight from where I am.

Okay, I admit I had to reread this request a few times. What I understood was: At some point in the past, Mammon ran away from home for a while. He got someone pregnant and they ended up having his kid, but he had to leave them for some reason. Many years later, the exchange program starts and his kid ends up being the exchange student. He asks the kid about their father but all the kid can say is basically “I know very little about him other than his sister is dead”.

Mammon was tired. He was so tired of the way his own family treated him. He couldn’t go a single day without one of them blaming him for every little thing that went wrong. Sure, sometimes he messed up, and sometimes he made bad choices, but no one ever tried to understand his intentions. No one ever stopped to think for a moment that he was trying to do something good and it ended up backfiring on him. He was just the family screw up and he couldn’t take it anymore, so one day he just left.

The human world wasn’t as cool as the Devildom, but it would do if he wanted to get as far away from everyone as possible; which he did. It was just supposed to be a little jaunt out, but he found it was surprisingly nice. No one was insulting him or berating him for existing and every single mark was easy. So easy that it wasn’t even fun to steal anything. In fact, everything was boring. That was until he found her.

She was like daybreak after months of darkness and fresh water in the desert. She never shrugged off what he did when he was in the wrong, but she would try to understand him before scolding him. He would never change completely, but she made him want to be a better person than he was. He wanted her to admire him, not just try to manage him for a sliver of her attention. She was amazing and perfect and he would even think that maybe, just maybe, he could see himself with her for the rest of her life. He told her way too much about himself, in retrospect.

But… what is a break from home to a demon? Especially one that is supposed to help run an entire realm? A few years maybe? Well, his few years are up and his family is tired of waiting for him to come home. Lucifer himself comes to grab him and drag him back kicking and screaming. It doesn’t matter how Mammon protests, Lucifer is tired of putting up with his tantrum.

He doesn’t even get to say goodbye.

Eventually, after a lot more ‘pouting’ (as his family put it) he feel back in line and returned to the scumbag they all knew. In a strange way, they’d say they missed him. In another, they’d say he was a loser who was more trouble than he was worth, but he was family and family can’t just abandon each other.

Years pass. Things don’t change much.

Then, Diavolo mentions his exchange program plan and picks out a human.

Mammon can’t put his finger on it, but something about the human is familiar.

It doesn’t click until after they moved in and had been around for about a month. He’d been a good guide and fast friend in that time, despite their initial meeting.

They finally managed to get some of their personal good from home sent over so they can decorate the way they want. Mammon offered to help them unpack since he’s so generous and great. When he was helping take things out of their bags he found a picture. It was MC (probably about 10 or 11), an adult man, and… her. She was smiling as the man held her around the shoulders and she squeezed a smiling MC in a big bear hug.

He had to ask.

“Hey, who’re these?” The words felt heavy on his tongue already, as if his mouth didn’t want to say them.

MC looked over, a small smile filled with fondness crossing their face, “That’s me and my folks on vacation.”

Parents? As in she moved on and found herself another man and had a kid with him? He couldn’t have expected her to stay single forever, but a part of him had hoped.

“Ya look just like yer mom,” he says, finally noticing how similar their eyes are now that he’s seeing them side by side, “but ya got nothing of yer dad.” Okay, that was out of bitterness. He shouldn’t have said that.

It’s when MC’s face drops that he knows he really messed up. “He’s not my bio dad, but he’s the guy who raised me. Which, you know, is more than my sperm donor ever did.” Their words are full of bile.

“What?” There was a terrible feeling starting to twist his stomach. He shouldn’t ask the question clawing at his brain. He shouldn’t be trying to put the pieces together, but he couldn’t help it. The last time he saw her… what was MC’s age again? “What happened to him?”

“He walked out on Mom before she even realized she was pregnant. Apparently, he just vanished one day and she couldn’t find him to let him know.” That feeling in his stomach only got worse. “Whatever. He’s a rat bastard. If I ever find him, I owe him a punch in his stupid face for making Mom be a single parent until she met Dad.” They shrugged. “Can you put the photo on the table next to the bed?”

Their facial structure… it was familiar. “Do ya know anything about him?”

The way their lips curled when they grimaced at him, it was just like looking in a mirror. “Why do you care so much?”

“Well, ya know…”

“Got it. You’re really nosey.” They sigh. “I don’t know. He has a dead sister? He didn’t say anything else, apparently. That’s why she could never find him after he left. There was no one to reach out to.”

Oh. Oh fuck. No…

A look of disgust crossed their face. “Can we stop talking about him? I really couldn’t care less and it’s leaving a bad taste in my mouth.”

He was going to be sick. He didn’t want to leave her in the first place and now… He had missed so much. He’d missed so much that they already hated him. Fuck. He really did fuck up every family he was part of. Abandoned one, made another, and ended up breaking it before he could do anything else.

#obey me #angst #obey me angst #obey me fanfic #obey me mammon #obey me main character #mine #request #obey me headcanons

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tinabelcherseroticfriendfiction · 2 years

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Cats - Not to Be Trusted: Chapter One

Title: Cats - Not to Be Trusted Chapter One Fandom: The Losers (2010 Movie) Pairing: Prince!Cougar/Slave!Jensen Rating: R Warnings: Slavery. canon-level violence Words: 1459 Summary: Prince Carlos Alvarez of Espanecano has turned 25, and as a present from Meridicano, Prince Maximilian presents Jensen, a young man he bought as a slave to try and win the favor of the Crown Prince.

Not Beta'd, all my mistakes are mine. Don't come for me, I was too excited to post it to bother with Beta Readers, ok? Hush. LOL

“Your Majesty,” the herald’s voice was loud and clear as he stepped up to the throne, “may I announce the Prince of Meridicano, Prince Maximilian.”

Prince Max stepped up to the throne and bowed to the royal family, his signature smirk plastered on his face as he stood up right. “I want to wish Prince Carlos a very happy birthday,” his honeyed voice gave the air of arrogance and superiority, despite his country being much smaller and far less powerful than Espanecano. “25 is a very special birthday for every prince, and as such, I wanted to present a very special present.”

Prince Carlos Alverez, or Cougar as his close friends and family called him, retained his composure, though his insides were starting to turn. Nothing Prince Max did was good. He caused more trouble than he was worth, and his intentions were never pure. It put Cougar on edge.

Prince Max snapped his fingers and two of his men came into the throne room dragging a kicking and screaming young man with blonde hair. Cougar stood up straighter, not liking where this was going, but unwilling to cause a scene in front of his court.

The blond man was struggling as hard as he could, but he was no match for the two large goons who held him. They marched the man up to the steps of the throne and forced him down onto his knees, kicking him when he didn’t comply immediately. Cougar nearly snarled, ready to jump the bastards and teach them a lesson in their own language.

His parents, however, got to it first. His father stood up and frowned at Prince Max as the smug bastard continued to smirk at them. “What is this?” He asked, clearly unimpressed and upset.

“A gift. A slave for Prince Carlos to use as he sees fit.”

The blond gave a shout and struggled again against the two men holding him. “Fuck you!” He yelled, “I’ll fucking kill you!” One of the men landed a heavy punch on the blond’s cheek, shutting him up and causing him to spit blood on the floor.

Cougar took a step forward, ready to pulverize the prince and his goons, but his father held a hand out to him, stopping him. He shot his father a questioning look, not understanding where this was going to.

“You dare come to my kingdom and present a slave to my son for his birthday? This is a disgrace and low even for you and your country, Maximilian.” His father’s voice was low, but steady. It was clear he was more than a little displeased at this gesture from the small nation.

“Well, if you and your son don’t want him, then I suppose I can take him back home. I’m sure I could find use of him, though I already have enough slaves for my desires.” Max shrugged nonchalantly, making Cougar’s eye twitch. He hated Max more than ever.

Max snapped his fingers again and the large goon holding the blond’s left arm snapped it, the crack echoing through the throne room almost as loudly as the pained scream from the blond.

Cougar did move then, flying down the stairs and grabbing for his sword, ready to kill, but Max turned to the goon and frowned, stopping Cougar in his tracks, confused for a moment.

“What was that?” Max asked.

“You gave the snap.” the goon said, looking confused as the blond tried desperately to grab his broken arm.

“The ‘take him out to the car’ snap, not a ‘break his arm snap’, Jesus, Wade. He’s a present, we don’t present damaged goods to a crowned prince. What the hell is wrong with you Wade?”

“I thought that’s what you wanted,” Wade shrugged, jarring the blond’s arm and causing him to cry out again.

“Even if the prince didn’t want him, I don’t want a slave with a fucked up arm.”

Cougard had heard enough, drawing his sword and holding it up to Wade’s throat, glaring. Cougar wasn’t one for many words, he felt actions spoke much louder, and didn’t waste his breath on useless exchanges. So he simply held the sword to Wade’s neck and glared hard, daring him to move. Daring him to harm the man in his custody again, give him one reason to run his blade through his neck.

“Well this took a turn,” Max commented, sounding bored.

Cougar’s father took a step down the stairs, leveling his gaze with Max’s. “Leave him. You and your company are dismissed, and are not permitted back on our soil ever again. Guards!”

The palace guards happily stepped in, grabbing Prince Max and the two goons by the arms and dragging them out of the throne room, leaving the blond man still writhing on the floor in pain.

Cougar dropped to his knees in front of him as his father called for the doctor.

“Get away,” the blond gasped, trying to back away from the prince, his blue eyes wide and scared. “Don’t touch me!”

Cougar sheathed his sword before reaching out to place a hand on the other’s left shoulder to steady him. Slaves were not common practice anymore, although at one point they had been. Most countries had outlawed the practice, recognizing how fucked up it was. And until then, he had thought that Meridicano also stopped the practice. He would have to take that up with his father later, once he knew the man before him was settled into a room and healing.

“What’s your name?” He inquired, his voice soft. “I’m Cougar.”

“You’re named after a cat? I don’t like cats. They’re too smart for their own good. They kill for sport and fun, which is shit.”

Cougar raised an eyebrow, semi-amused. The man was in severe pain, yet he seemed to be unable to stop talking.

“Now dogs, dogs are great. They’re loyal, they’re protective, and they stay by your side. You can always trust a dog. They’ll always have your back. You know cats can make over a thousand sounds? No, can’t trust them. And fuck you, man, I’m not telling you my name! I’m gonna find a way out of here and I’m going home!”

Cougar just nods. He would want to go home, as well, if he had been kidnapped and taken to a foreign country as a gift to some prince. So instead of answering, he took in everything he could about the man in front of him.

He was beautiful, despite the bruising and cuts that covered his body. That was the first thing Cougar really noticed. Bright blue eyes that complimented his pale complexion and blond hair. The glasses that were skewed on his face were cracked and would need to be replaced before he could go home. He had a large bruise on his temple, probably from being punched by Wade, and another forming on his cheekbone where Cougar had watched Wade punch him. His right eye was swollen, nearly shut, and his lip was busted, his nose probably broken. He had cuts from rings hitting him all over his face, and his left ear had a large gash down the side that looked like someone had dragged a dagger over it.

“What are you staring at?” The man asked. “Stop it.”

Cougar simply shook his head and stepped out of the way as the doctor approached. Standing and turning to his father, he hoped the gift ceremony was over. This had upset him and the entire court, and he simply wanted to retire to his rooms.

“Take the young man to the medical wing on Carlos’s floor. We will retire for the day and hopefully tomorrow will bring clarity to this situation.” His mother spoke, standing next to his father. “Carlos, help him.”

Cougar simply nodded and followed the doctor and the blond out of the throne room and up to the third floor, where his apartments were.

“I don’t need help from some spoiled brat of a prince!” The blond was hissing even as the doctor led him to the medical wing.

“Don’t be daft,” the doctor stated. “Your arm is broken and you look as if you’ve been trampled by an elephant. Allow us to patch you up and reach out to your family. We can arrange transportation and assistance for you to get home, but you need medical attention first.”

“Why would you help me get home?”

“Because humans aren’t property.” The doctor motioned to the exam table and stopped Carlos at the door. “I shall let you know when I am finished. Until then, I require privacy.”

Cougar took one last look at the blond before nodding once and striding back to his own apartments to rest.

#The Losers #the losers fanfiction #the losers (2010)#the losers movie #Cougar/Jensen #Jensen/Cougar #Royal!Cougar #Prince!Cougar #Slave!Jensen #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfictions #fan fic #fan fiction #fan fictions #fanfics #fic writing

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rpd-rookie · 3 years

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The One Who Runs Away, The One Who Runs Back (Leon S. Kennedy x Reader)

Author’s note: This is a sequel to “A PAST WITH HER, A FUTURE WITH YOU” and the end of my three-parts fan fiction "I TRUSTED YOU WITH MY HEART" I decided to write after so many of you asked for it. Sorry it took so long but I was navigating from one fandom to another. (BTW, if there are any Devil May Cry fans up here, you can read my DMC fan fictions here) PS: Even if I said it before, I have no hate whatsoever towards Ada or Aeon.

Tagged: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Post-Break up, Sexual Content

Part 1 / Part 2

***

Do you remember? We started this story by quoting some sitcom character that was clueless about love. Well, here’s a suggestion. Why not ending it by quoting someone who knew a little more on such matter.

William Shakespeare - you know that English dude expert on tragic ‘drink this poison, stab yourself’ kind of love - apparently once said ‘Love runs away from those chasing her, and those who run away, she throws herself on his neck’. I say ‘apparently’ cause, even though I have a master in English lit, this quote is from the internet, and also … who knows what the guy truly said?

But it’s the quote that’s important. Not the author. The quote it’s important because it sums up perfectly how this story is gonna end. However, before starting, let me tell you this quote is going to be the only Shakespeare-worthy sentence in this final chapter. You’ve been warned.

Love runs away from those chasing her. Well, this part was definitely written for someone like Ada Wong. Owner of countless gold medals and possibly a world record at this point, that woman is basically the Usain Bolt of the ‘Running from Leon S. Kennedy’ competition. Unchallenged winner since the creation of this sultry version of cat and mouse game, it’s better not to think about the number of times she successfully ran away from her favourite agent. But this year, this formidable titleholder in a gorgeous red dress will have to face her Nemesis in the championship. You. Though the comparison to the hideous bio-organic killing machine might not be very complimentary to you but you get the idea. This year you enter the Kennedy Olympics. And this year you run like Sonic the Hedgehog and you win the damn competition (screw you Usain Bold!). And you do this with your head high and without an ounce of regret. Ignore all the texts and flowers Leon might send on your track Mario Kart style. His gifts are not as slippery as banana peels and they can easily be dodged, I promise. Well, most of the time, when you’re not lying on your bed in the middle of the night crying and sobbing while reading his messages or playing his voice in your voicemail again and again until you’re nothing more but a giant mess with puffy red eyes drowning in a puddle of your own tears. Screw those messages too! And screw his broken yet terribly sexy voice as well!

Being a man of word, Leon kept his promise. And for months you kept on running peacefully, marathoning away from this past relationship that had destroyed you like no other before while tranquilly fixing your broken heart on the way. That run was a good cardio.

But sometimes, cardio is not enough, and even just the small sight of an overpriced whisky bottle or the smell of Leon’s perfume on some guy’s clothes is enough to reopen your wounds. And when it happens, you always do the same thing, you break the damn bottle - and run cause damn! it’s expensive! - or you tell the guy his perfume smells like cheap cologne and that he should definitely change it, which is an improvement on your past destructive behaviour, since there was a time shortly after the break up when you would have simply dragged the guy to your place to let him fuck you senseless while imagining he was Leon. All that just for the illusion to feel him again and for the sake to kick him out the next morning, screaming like a hysterical psycho.

So imagine, for a small second, the wave of intense feelings surging out of your healing heart when, in the middle of a cafe, you hear some dude sitting behind you ordering Leon’s favourite whisky while wearing the same bloody perfume. “It’s got to be relentless persecution at that point!” You sigh, already annoyed, closing your book more violently than intended. Hope you’re ready, stranger! Because you’re not in the mood to deal with this right now. You turn around with a fake smile that reflects perfectly your irritation, ready to give him hell, your sharpest riposte already burning your tongue. After all, he deserves it and you can’t help it. But when you meet familiar – and freaking gorgeous - baby blue eyes you freeze and stare, suddenly confused and lost and refusing to believe that in spite of the intense running, love just jumped at your neck after all and it was sitting there, taking the shape of Leon S(tupid) Kennedy.

You should have stood up and left, run for your life, run for your heart. And yet, you didn’t. You stayed there staring at him looking at you, allowing all your memories, the good ones and the bad ones, all your buried feelings to come back from the dead, embracing them as if you had missed them, which, let’s be honest, you probably had. You tried to scream to yourself “Come on, Y/N! Shake a leg!” but it seemed that what you brain understood was something like “Cum on him! Open your legs!” as a couple of blurry hours later, you were on Leon’s bed, legs wide open, screaming his name and begging him not to stop his amazing thrusts.

Six months, you ran for six months … Well, looks like the run ends here and now. After a minute-long deep stare, an afternoon of amazing sex and two hours long of something blurry in between.

“I missed you.” And there you were! The moment all couples that broke up have after one of them (in this case Leon with the infamous ‘I missed you line’) starts to believe they miraculously rekindled their love. The fatal post-coital cuddling session that you don’t know how to react to, as you think of all the possibilities before you. Possibility Number 1) You tell Leon you missed him too and cuddle, enjoying that embrace you secretly yearned for months. But that includes forgetting what he has done or pretending that nothing happened. Possibility Number 2) You push him away, get dressed, leave again and act as if this afternoon never happened. But if Leon doesn’t remind you of it, the ache between your legs will, that’s for sure! Possibility Number 3) You jump him again until you sore even more and hope that you’ll be able to leave afterwards. Frankly, all possibilities suck because, in all cases, it seems like you lose. Since, with Possibility Number 1) you lose the run forever, with Possibility Number 2) you lose him again and with Possibility Number 3) well it’s result 1 or 2 + your body aching like crazy for days. I suck at math but no need to be Einstein to know the result of this calculation looks unpleasant. So what do you choose?

You see a triangular dice rolling in your head, showing a never-ending succession of 1, 2 and 3 that doesn’t make any sense and that confuse you even more than you already are. 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 3, 2 ! Oh for fuck’s sake!

You grimace, angry and pissed at Leon and probably even more at yourself, and finally leaves his bed and his strong warm arms, feeling the tears furiously forming in your eyes. “I can’t” You can’t look at him in the eyes. You don’t want to see his confusion, don’t want to see his pain as he witnesses all his hopes shatter to pieces. “ What do you mean?” You can hear the sheets crease behind you, alerting you of Leon’s agitation, so you hurry and pick up all your clothes scattered in his room. You must leave, now. 2! 2 it is! “This! All This! This afternoon never happened.” You tell him, putting on your clothes with sudden clumsy and trembling hands, not caring if your bra is correctly hooked or if you put your shirt on back to front. Your heart. You have to think of your poor heart first. “Hey, hey, hey.” You feel Leon’s hand softly grabbing your arms and you let go of whatever you were holding right now. His voice is sweet and trying to be comforting. Don’t look at him Y/N! Don’t look at him! “Look at me.” You do. Damn it! And you see his gorgeous blue eyes staring at you, studying your flustered face and the tears slowly drowning your (colour) look. You missed those eyes. You missed them so.damn.much ! As much as you missed his hands cupping your face and his thumbs wiping up your tears. God! How many tears those thumbs have missed recently. “It’s alright.”

You want to believe him. You really do. But there is this voice screaming in your head and very clearly this time. A voice shouting, forcing you to remember that night, that awful nightmarish night, the one when you felt your heart break and your dreams turn to ashes. All that because of him and his obsession for her.

“No, it’s not alright, Leon.” You shake your head and miraculously manage to take a small step back. You never thought you could. But you had to. You can’t stay close to him. You can’t let him touch you, feel you. Not if you want to run away. And you have to run away. Like her! Like Ada. Ada! “I told you. For as long as you have feelings for Ada, I can’t … we can’t…” “Please don’t talk about her.” He begs and rubs his hand over his face. Is he trying to chase her away from his mind? Is she still in here? Please, let her not be in here. “But she’s the reason we’re in this situation now. She’s the reason why we’re in this mess.” You insist only for the sake to see his reaction when you mention Ada, to see if she’s still under his skin, somewhere. “Ada is not the reason. I am!” Leon corrects you, a finger directed at his heavy chest as he is putting the full blame on himself for the first time since that night. “I am the one who went after Ada when I shouldn’t have! I am the reason why we broke up! I am the reason why we are so miserable!” “But I was fine!” You shouted back in an attempt to show him he was wrong refusing to listen to that part of you who knew he was completely right. You were miserable without him. “I was doing fine until you came back and fucked everything up! I was healing goddamnit!” You felt new tears rolling along your red cheeks and quickly wipe them off with the back of your hand that felt so callous and rough in comparison to Leon’s gentle touch. “You can’t just jump back into my life like this and expect me to forget!”

Leon nods, agreeing with you in a certain way. But the truth is, he doesn’t want you to forget. He doesn’t expect you to erase his mistake. He just wants you to forgive him … No, he just wants you to come back to him. Period. And that’s got to be what you want to. It has to! “So why did you have sex with me, huh?” He finally asks even though he already knows your answer. “Tell me!” You’re not the kind of person who has meaningless sex, not the kind of person who worships one’s body with divine kisses and devoted caresses if they mean nothing. “Why did you have sex with me?” And yet the answer he wishes to hear doesn’t come out. “For fuck’s sake Y/N! Answer me! Why?” He shouts making you shiver and cry even more. “Because I LOVE YOU!” You finally scream. And it hurts. It hurts but it feels good too. Like a weight lifted off your chest. “Because I missed you too! Because those months without you have been terrible! Because I don’t know how to handle even just the thought of you or the sound of your voice in my voicemail. Because each time I see something that makes me think of you, I’m a mess and I do things that normal me would never do! You fucked me up, Leon! You fucked me up but I love you! And I hate to love you!” You grunt in pain and relief, enraged but happy that you finally let everything out. And Leon listens in silence, frozen by your powerful honest confession. But he doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t know what to say. Part of him is overjoyed, ecstatic that you still love him but there is another part that just feels terrible, sorry for the pain your love for him caused you even in his absence. “But you see—“ You continue “That’s the problem in our relationship, Leon! I love you in ways that are so intense, that go beyond sanity. And you love me by half.” You see him crumple, his horrified face looking suddenly very pale as if he had just heard some dreadful news. Is that really how you feel? Is that how you see his love for you? Is that what he has made you believe? “Goodbye Leon.”

With the full intention to leave Leon’s place for good and never come back, you grab you bag on your way out of the bedroom while carelessly shoving your underwear inside of it since you forgot to put them on in the midst of panic and precipitation. Get out of here, Y/N! Now! A reasonable voice encourages you. Listen to me! But this not what Leon wants.

“I never loved you by half.” He declares and you abruptly stop, asking God if he’s some kind of sadist that loves seeing you in pain from the comfort of his divine sofa somewhere in heaven. “Never.” But it’s not God and his sadism that makes you turn around. It’s you, and your masochist love for that blue-eyed man before you. “I don’t believe you” Your voice almost doesn’t leave your throat as you try not to sob. “But it’s the truth.” He says with a calm soothing voice as he slowly approaches you. “I never imagined my future with Ada. I never wished to grow old with her or build a home with her.” You want to tell Leon to stop talking, to stay where he is but your body doesn’t seem to respond. And when you feel him grabbing your hands in his and the comforting warmth that goes with that simple touch, you know that leaving is now an almost impossible task. “Yes. I admit it. My feelings for her were real.” Even when his honesty hurts you, you don’t know how to leave anymore. “But they were nothing in comparison to what I feel for you.” You try to let go, pulling your hands away from his loving grip but he holds you back. And you’re not strong enough. Or maybe, you just don’t want to be strong. Everything is so confusing. Everything is tearing you apart. “But they’re still here, aren’t they?” You question, hoping his answer might give you a clue, might give you the strength to make the correct decision. Do you leave? Or do you stay? “And they’ll keep coming back each she goes back into your life. You can’t let go of her.” “You’re maybe right.” His words hurt you more than you thought they would. They hurt like hell because you realise there are not the ones you wanted to hear. You wanted to hear him say that he would let go of Ada, for good, for you. You wanted to hear that because deep down … YOU WANTED TO FUCKING STAY! “But can you let go of your past?” He continues and you shake your head refusing to hear any other word coming out of Leon’s mouth. “Don’t!” You beg, weary. “No! Listen to me this time. Ada is my past, Y/N. She’s my past. And you … you’re my future. You’re my life, damn it!” He doesn’t cry but you don’t need his tears to sense how emotional and how honest he is. And suddenly, you just want to listen to him. “And I was a fool not to see it sooner. When you left me, I felt a void I had never felt in my entire life. I felt like a part of me was missing. And then, the bombing in Washington happened, and it was like I had nothing left. I needed you. I wanted you. You. Not Ada.” “Leon” You whisper and he cups your face again, blue eyes staring deep into yours, allowing you to see everything in him, his strong love for you and all the weaknesses he hated to admit. “It was you in my mind. Only you. And it will always be you. Because I love you. Now. Today. And I will always love you.”

You cry even more, uncertain if those tears are tears of sorrow, tears of joy or a mix of both. God, how can your emotions be such a mess right now? How can you be wishing to shout at him with all the anger you’ve accumulated and, at the same time, willing to kiss him with all love you’ve got?

“If you got to believe something. Believe that. And if that’s not enough and you think you can be happy with someone else. Then go. I won’t hold you back.” You frown. He is fucking lying. You’re sure of it. “You can’t stop running after me and you know it.” He smiles and scoffs, sensing that hint of sudden defiance in your tone he enjoys a lot. “True. I can’t sop running after you. But I’ll do my best not to catch you if that’s what you want. But you got to tell me. Is that what you truly want?” You don’t reply. Truth is, you’re not sure what to say not because you’re not sure that’s what you want but because you’re not sure you can trust him if you let him in again. “No.” You whisper. “No, that’s not what I want. I want you. All of you.” You can see Leon struggle to contain his growing joy as it starts to glimmer brighter and brighter in his irises. He doesn’t want to cry victory just yet. He is cautious and rightfully so. “But can I?” “Want me?” He smiles. “ Have you completely?” You correct, searching for a promise in his eyes, one you hope, you wish he would not break this time. “Trust me with your heart again and find out.”

This better not hurt this time…

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #i trusted you with my heart #resident evil fanfic #fanfic

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makeste · 4 years

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“...and I bullied him.”

hello, hello, good afternoon or evening or whatever time it is. so by now we’ve all had some time to bask in those “Kacchan admitted he cares about Deku” feels (well, technically they were “All Might pointed out that Kacchan was worried about Deku and Kacchan didn’t deny it” feels, BUT THOSE MIGHT AS WELL BE THE SAME FEELS, YOU KNOW). and it’s been lovely. I’ve been having a time. it’s been nice.

but now I would like to talk a bit more about a part of this chapter which I think was even more important.

for me, this was the line of the chapter. this one panel may honestly be the biggest piece of Kacchan character development since all the way back in chapter 120. “I ended up bullying him.” okay but guys?? can we just talk?? about how absolutely extraordinary this one sentence is.

it’s self-aware.

introspection? from a kid who’s had to be dragged kicking and screaming to every character development milestone he’s ever experienced in his life? and on an emotional level that actually goes deeper, and doesn’t just stop at the surface-level anger that’s so often his instinctive reaction to everything? who are you and what have you done with Bakugou Katsuki lol.

but seriously, the level of self-analysis here almost stunned me, guys. not only does he demonstrate a very impressive level of insight into Deku (something I especially love because it mirrors the many analyses Deku has made of him, and shows that the understanding between them is actually mutual), but he also shows an unprecedented degree of insight into himself. like, historically speaking, Bakugou and Feelings have not always exactly been on the same page, you know? so for him to suddenly get so thoughtful now, and sincerely try to analyze these feelings which up until now he’s always ignored and avoided dealing with... that is such a huge step. also, bonus points: he recognizes it as a problem within himself, and doesn’t try to pin the blame on Deku in any way. he recognizes that he’s the one who reacted badly to Deku’s behavior. to be able to examine your own feelings like that and arrive at a conclusion that acknowledges that you’re not the good guy in this, that you’re the one who made the mistake -- that takes a level of accountability that not everyone possesses.

it’s self-prompted.

okay this one is a big deal honestly. no one put a gun to Katsuki’s head here and forced him to confess this. all All Might said was “you’re worried about him too” and that somehow prompted a level of emotional honesty that Katsuki has never before shown. now, based on the fact that the successors’ notebook is still fresh in Katsuki’s mind, and that All Might mentioned earlier that Aizawa couldn’t help because he was “busy at the moment”, this conversation likely took place shortly after the kids returned from their New Year’s break. meaning that this was basically right after the Endeavor internship arc, when thoughts about seeking atonement were still fresh on Katsuki’s mind. so this isn’t entirely out of the blue; it shows that Katsuki did, in fact, learn exactly what All Might was hoping he would learn from Endeavor.

but it’s one thing for this to be on his mind, and another thing entirely for him to actually confess it out loud. and I absolutely will give him full credit for that. he admits, without anyone forcing him to, that he bullied Deku. there’s no incentive for him to do this whatsoever. Deku isn’t there to hear it. he’s not admitting it for the purposes of seeking forgiveness. he’s simply just being honest, and owning up to what he did because he realizes it was wrong. and that takes a lot of inner strength, to do that. to not shy away from it and keep pretending like it never happened. this is a huge first step for him.

it’s a confession that leaves him emotionally vulnerable.

this is another big one. it’s not always evident because he makes a big effort to downplay it, but Katsuki looks up to All Might every bit as much as Deku does. he seeks his approval, he wants All Might to be proud of him, even though he very often puts on a big show of not caring about it at all. it means a lot to him. a lot.

and Katsuki knows how much All Might cares about Deku. and sure, All Might is already perfectly aware that Katsuki and Deku aren’t exactly on the best of terms, and he’s always been understanding about it; always gently compassionate and attempting to smooth things out between them without being judgmental.

but All Might also doesn’t know everything about the two of them. and even with Kacchan and Deku’s relationship never exactly being on the most rock solid of terms at U.A., there’s still a vast difference between the way they interact there, and the way that they interacted back in middle school. when Katsuki was not only hostile, but occasionally downright cruel. and when Deku was still quirkless, and very much not on equal footing with Kacchan in terms of power, and yet Kacchan bullied him anyway.

what Katsuki is confessing here puts him at risk of rejection from one of the people whose opinion of him matters the most. he’s opening himself up to the possibility that All Might might not, for once, react with his trademark understanding. he’s admitting to All Might, I did something unherolike, and I hurt someone you care about, and I didn’t have a good reason for doing it. All Might, in the moment immediately following this statement, has an incredible amount of power over Katsuki. he has the ability to withdraw his support, to condemn him, to pull away and decide that Katsuki is not someone worthy of becoming a hero after all. he has all the power in the world over Katsuki in this one moment; a rejection from him would be a blow he’d never recover from.

and Katsuki, knowing this, tells him anyway. willingly opens himself up to that possibility of being hurt, of being rejected and shunned by the person who inspired his dream. because the alternative is being dishonest with him. this is, in short, a decision made because he believes All Might deserves to know this, and deserves to hear the truth from him. he wants his approval so badly, but he can’t live with the knowledge that he’s “tricked” him into giving it. so he tells him the truth, ready to face whatever consequences might arise from that. and I think that might be one of the bravest things he’s ever done.

it’s not attempting to shirk responsibility.

this, right here, is why Katsuki is my favorite character. because even though he’s flawed, even though he’s made a lot of mistakes, when he realizes that and is confronted by it, he never tries to hide from them. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: to me, the essence of Katsuki is that he is someone who is always trying to be better. he wants to be a good hero; he wants to be a good person. when people point out to him that he’s done something wrong, he listens. it doesn’t always sink in right away, sure, and sometimes he gets stubborn and it can be hard to hammer that truth in. but once he gets it, he always makes the change. he never tries to make excuses. he owns up to his shit and does his best to course correct.

with this acknowledgement here, that he bullied Deku, there’s no attempt on his part to say that it was Deku’s fault, that Deku shouldn’t have done this or that. he doesn’t blame his parents or his teachers or try to act like he didn’t know any better. he makes no attempt whatsoever to justify it. it’s just simple, honest truth. back then, I ignored my own weakness, so I ended up bullying him. it’s a plea of guilt. no attempt to mitigate it or downplay it. the verb he uses, “ijimeta”, doesn’t water it down.

“to ill-treat; to torment; to be cruel to.” there’s no attempt here to paint this in a flattering light at all. which is good. because in order for him to really atone for it, to really go the distance in his redemption arc which we’re all rooting for him to do, the most important step is for him to take responsibility. he can’t learn from it if he’s trying to hide from it or make excuses for what he did wrong. he has to fully acknowledge his mistakes. and that’s exactly what this is.

it shows remorse.

that’s right y’all. they sent my boy out to do an internship with Endeavor over the holidays, and he came back having learned the true meaning of Christmas. his heart really did grow three sizes. honey badger does care.

there is genuine, sincere remorse for his actions here. he’s sorry for what he did. he regrets what he did. there’s real contrition there. it’s not forced or insincere. again, nobody made him say this! nobody pressured him, nobody led him on. these are his own feelings. I bullied Deku. I shouldn’t have done that to him. I want to atone for it.

I know some people in fandom don’t think this is enough. the same thing happened with Endeavor as well. people aren’t always satisfied with restorative justice; they want retribution. they want punishment for his actions. and that’s a natural feeling; it stems back to that instinct of wanting everything to be fair, which I mentioned in another meta not too long ago.

but the thing is, retributive, punitive justice doesn’t actually help anyone. it doesn’t restore what was lost. Katsuki being punished doesn’t do anything to undo what was done to Deku. it doesn’t do anything to heal the harm that was dealt. it doesn’t do anything to make things better for either of them moving forward.

but do you know what does? restorative justice. making amends. which is exactly what this is building up to now.

it shows an understanding that remorse is not enough, and that in order to move forward he has to take action to be a better person.

Katsuki understands that simply being sorry for what he did is not enough. I suspect that’s one reason why he hasn’t attempted to apologize to Deku yet; because he recognizes that after years of tormenting him for stupid and self-centered reasons, a simple apology might seem meaningless at best and self-serving at worst. it puts pressure on Deku to make a decision to either accept or not accept it. Katsuki saw the Todoroki siblings struggling with a similar conflict not too long ago. and he knows better than anyone else how selfless Deku can be. “deep down, he doesn’t take himself into account, y’know?” and so if Katsuki simply apologizes, Deku might end up offering forgiveness that he doesn’t actually deserve, just because Deku is that kind of person who puts others above himself.

and so rather, what Katsuki has opted to do for now is to put all his efforts into helping Deku. he knows Deku is in a considerable amount of danger. he knows how much Deku has on his plate with the SIXQUIRKS and trying to handle all of that. and he knows there are other potential dangers looming which they don’t even know about yet. he’s been alert and anxious about this -- you saw how quickly his mind leaped to worst-case scenarios about the past OFA users; how he was sure that All Might was hiding something from them, and how agitated and apprehensive he got thinking about what that might be.

“I’m worried for him. you are, too,” All Might said. and Katsuki didn’t deny it. didn’t even try. he is worried about Deku. he’s worried about what he has to face. he’s worried about him getting in over his head and something happening to him. and so the way that he has chosen to try and atone is to help him. with his training, with his quirks; whatever he can do. if he needs to push him he’ll push him. whatever he can do to help make him stronger. and if he needs to protect him, he’ll do that too.

atonement is not the same thing as forgiveness. atonement is about trying to make up for what you did, to try and correct your mistakes however you can. it doesn’t mean you’re pardoned from them. all it means is that you’ve acknowledged them, and are doing your best -- doing whatever you can -- to repair the harm done, and to be a better person going forward. and sometimes there is no way to ever completely make up for it. sometimes you can’t undo the harm, because you can’t go back and change the past. the only thing you can change is the now, and the future.

and so Katsuki is trying to atone. he’s trying to be the friend Deku deserves now, since he wasn’t before. he’s trying his best to make things right, and it all starts with this one sentence. that acknowledgement of what he did, of what can’t be changed. acknowledgement of the mistake, so that he can learn from it, so that it never happens again.

so yeah. BnHA Redemption Arcs strike again. Horikoshi you smooth son of a bitch.

#bnha 284 #bakugou katsuki #all might #midoriya izuku #bakudeku #bnha meta #bakugou meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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neuxue · 3 years

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I'm trying to understand your problem with Asmodean. I agree with what you say about redemption, but he's basically lazy. His music came naturally, as a child prodigy. He learned to channel in the era when it was the path of least resistance. He was never a fallen hero like Sammael or Belal. There's no sign of a capacity for good, no spark of failed heroism or something like even Elan Morin's insight or Moghedian taking care of orphans. That's what I mean by contemptible (+ Fade-rape of his mom)

The flippant answer here is: “of the two of us, I don’t think I’m the one who has a problem with Asmodean.”

The actual answer is: one of the points I was trying to make in response to your earlier ask is that I don’t find it interesting or productive to try to classify characters as deserving or undeserving of redemption based on their level or type of ‘contemptibility’. I also think it’s an exercise in futility, because people are going to disagree on where those lines are drawn; there isn’t some perfect universal categorisation that says ‘this character “deserves” redemption; this one does not’, and that way lies... *stares into the abyss beyond years of fandom wank*

For a character to be redeemed, they have to do some bad / evil / wrong / immoral / contemptible things first. And then they have to, through some means, move or be moved towards something better.

Why should the form of that contemptibility define whether or not they can move away from it?

If we take your assessment of Asmodean’s character at face value (I would dispute aspects of it but that’s tangential to the point I’m trying to make, so I’ll refrain), why should laziness disqualify a character from a redemption arc? Why should apathy mean they can’t realise what it means to care about something?

You say “there’s no sign of a capacity for good,” but again, redemption by definition involves at some point being not good. Whether or not there’s a sign of some ‘innate goodness’ doesn’t really come into it. It certainly can--there are absolutely redemption arcs out there that do begin with a fallen or failed hero, or a character who means well but lost their way, or in some way already wants or is trying to find their way back--but that’s not the only form a redemption arc can take.

You don’t have to enjoy redemption arcs that begin in a darker place, but that doesn’t mean they can’t or shouldn’t exist. Personally I want to read about more characters who show absolutely no sign of a desire to be ‘good’, no spark or history of heroism, no remorse for the blood on their hands or no concern about the shape of the future... and who somehow change anyway. Because the question there is: how do you get a character like that to decide to walk a different road? And the more impossible it seems at first, the more interesting that can be.

There are different flavours of redemption--and again, they’re not all going to be for everyone, and that’s fine--and sometimes it’s about watching a character who has stumbled find their footing again and rise to true heroism, but sometimes it’s about just... finding or creating or cultivating that initial spark of I want something different in a character who has never even considered it before. Or anything in between.

And if we try to draw line around what qualifies as a starting point for redemption and what doesn’t, we lose the variety it enables. Because different starting points, and different characters and characteristics, will approach (or be dragged kicking and screaming to) redemption differently. Redemption isn’t one-size-fits-all, and for me so much of the interest is in seeing the different shapes it can take, and the different lenses you can view it through. Different starting points, different reasons, different catalysts, different paths, different challenges along the way, different results.

In some ways redemption is or is akin to a kind of healing; and like healing, it’s going to look different depending on the ailment. Sometimes it’s an acute problem but a short and relatively simple treatment or recovery. Sometimes it’s not visible, but takes years or decades or a lifetime of management. Sometimes it’s a series of experimental treatments, some of which may not work.

(“Okay but Lia, you can’t actually mean you want to see a redemption arc for [insert truly awful character here]” but the thing is, yes, yes I do. If it’s well executed? I absolutely want to see a redemption of the seemingly irredeemable. Not because of whether or not I find them sympathetic or forgivable or justified or whatever else, but because one of the things that’s so fascinating to me about the whole concept of redemption is the why, the how. What does it take, to get a character to make that first step? Where do they go from there, and what motivates them to do it? What keeps them going, even when it’s hard? These are really difficult with some characters, and that’s part of what makes it interesting to me.)

Finally... I hesitated over bringing aspects of reality into a discussion of fiction, this site being what it is, but. To use your characterisation of Asmodean as an example: I’m not going to get into a discussion of the concept of prodigy and talent here, or how it’s perceived and the consequences for those perceived as such, and how that can shape them, and how it’s pretty much always far more complicated than ‘laziness’, but even leaving that aside, there are absolutely people who will identify with elements of the ‘former child prodigy who falls into apathy’ for various reasons. Should they just... give up? Is that not part of what forms the feedback loop of apathy in the first place?

I’m obviously not saying that all villians / anatagonists / characters who do Bad Things have to be redeemed (or that fiction has a 1:1 impact on reality because No), but in fandom spaces especially, I see a lot of conversations around whether a certain character ‘deserves’ redemption that slide uncomfortably close to saying ‘[trait] means you don’t deserve to be redeemed / can’t be a good person / can’t try to be a better person’, without much awareness of how that is going to sound to the actual real people in the conversation. Just... one I wish people would be more aware of, sometimes.

#tl;dr i'm just forever tired of certain conversations re redemption #you don't have to like all redemption arcs #you can have your own opinions re redeemability #but they're not universal #asks #anon #i need a better villains tag #i suppose technically this is #asmodean #wheel of time #but only tangentially #also probably needs #rape mention cw

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beewolfwrites · 3 years

Text

The Oar in the Sand - Chapter Two: The First Day of Nostos

And the second chapter is here! I feel evil for writing this, buuutt we need drama. And plot.

For those who are new to the AIB fandom, this is the sequel to my other Chishiya x OC/Reader fic - you can find the first one, and the Chishiya pov side series, either on AO3 or on my Tumblr.

I’ll keep this short and sweet, and leave the AO3 link to this chapter here.

And the link to my AO3 profile where you’ll find the other fics is here.

As always, thanks for reading! Your support means the world :D

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Daylight spilled through the window onto the empty side of the bed. It wasn’t unusual for Chishiya to wake up before me, although usually in my dreaming I would feel the dip of the mattress as he left. I must’ve been in such a deep sleep that I hadn’t noticed. But that’s okay. I needed all the rest I could get.

Rubbing my eyes, I stretched out a hand to feel the sheets. They were still warm, as was the light that enveloped my fingers in its glow. It would have been peaceful morning, here in the sun and the cosy sheets, if not for the budding anticipation within me.

Noon.

That’s when it all starts.

Kicking back the covers, I forced myself to get up and dressed. No matter how much I wanted to laze around, there was no telling what would happen, and so I chose more comfortable, practical clothes – cropped cargo pants, with a t-shirt and hoodie. It was only when I headed down the creaky stairs into the overwhelming silence of the living room, that Chishiya’s absence became even more apparent.

If he wasn’t down here, that left only one place he could be.

Is he aware of how predictable he is?

Emptying a bottle of water into a pan, I lit up the camping stove, watching as the water slowly frothed into simmer before bubbling away. Then spooning some instant coffee into two small mugs, I poured some of the water into each. It wasn’t great, but it was the closest thing to a real cup of coffee we could get in this world. Carefully carrying the two mugs, I stepped outside, and immediately squinted under the sun’s glare.

If it’s this high in the sky, there can’t be much longer now.

Just around the side of the store was a fire escape ladder. I had practiced this a few times, holding both mug handles in one hand, as I shakily clambered up to the roof. I only spilled a couple of drops, but it was nothing compared to the first time I tried to do this. Moving slowly, I slid onto the rooftop.

And there he was.

Lounging near the edge, one knee bent up, Chishiya was staring out at the cityscape. The first thing I noticed when I sat beside him was the mug in his hand. And once again, I felt like an idiot.

‘You already made coffee?’ I set the unwanted extra between us, eyeing his steaming mug. ‘And you didn’t leave any for me.’

‘You were fast asleep,’ he replied, taking a sip. ‘It would have gone cold.’

‘You could’ve woken me up.’

‘And if I had, you would have complained all morning.’

I hate to admit it, he’s kind of right.

I clutched my own mug, letting the warmth seep into my fingers as I counted each blimp suspended over the city. So far, nothing had changed from yesterday. But then again, it also wasn’t noon yet. Slowly drinking my coffee, I sighed. ‘I guess I’ll just have to drink twice as much now.’

Chishiya didn’t even bother entertaining me with a reply. He seemed content with the peace and quiet. Only, when he finally set down his empty mug, he reached for the extra one.

I raised a brow. ‘I thought you didn’t want it.’

He began to drink it anyway. ‘These cups are too small.’

I dipped my head into my mug to hide my smile, although knowing him, he probably saw it anyway. The sun was now gleaming above the empty city, nearly at its highest point in the sky. Apprehension swelled uncomfortably within me, and I wrapped my arms around my knees while I finished my coffee. ‘Are you going to go to the Jack of Diamonds today?’

‘The Queen and King too,’ he said. ‘I’ll work my way up.’

It was fine. It was fine. Chishiya was clever enough to survive, and I had every confidence that he would complete the games easily. More importantly, he was the most intelligent person I’d ever met. If anyone stood a chance at clearing the Diamond face cards so we could all go home, it was him. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t scared.

He could still get hurt. He could still...

It didn’t bear thinking about.

‘At least let me come with you.’ Before he could protest or decline, I added, ‘Just to wait outside. I can’t sit here, not knowing anything.’

His expression was guarded as he downed the last of his coffee. ‘Do what you want. Although you might be waiting a while. I don’t know how long the games will last.’

A loud gunshot blasted in the distance. I jumped, inching closer to Chishiya. He was stone still. Another shot ricocheted, the clap echoing off the concrete skyscrapers. Were guns usually that loud? Loud enough to be heard all the way from here? This sounded almost like an explosion, only sharper.

Something’s not right.

And I knew exactly what.

Chishiya set his second empty mug on the rooftop. ‘It’s started.’

-----------------------------------------------

The city streets were deserted, yet I couldn’t help but stay on my guard. While the games were contained to their venues, that gunfire before hadn’t been normal – I’d witnessed enough of Niragi’s sniper to know the difference. It had gone on for several minutes, before eventually ebbing away, and only then did we set out for the Jack of Diamonds venue.

Despite the threat of the games ahead, Chishiya appeared relaxed on the surface, but there was a slight crease between his brows, and his eyes scanned every alleyway we passed, occasionally drifting to our reflections in store windows. His hands were pushed into his pockets, and I didn’t dare try to hold one.

‘Are you worried about the game?’ I kept my voice low, just in case.

‘You shouldn’t have come with me.’

I thought we’d already talked about this.

There was no way I could sit around in our little hideout, never knowing whether or not he was going to come back. I needed to be there. I needed to see the outcome with my own eyes.

‘You told me to do what I want,’ I said. ‘And this is what I want. I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Those guns were probably from a game.’

‘Maybe... maybe not,’ he mused.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Chishiya may not be the easiest person to read, but we both knew what he was really trying to say. We rounded a corner, heading further into the city centre. From what we could see of the blimps, the Jack, Queen and King of Diamonds were all pretty close to one another, and all within a reachable distance from the furniture store.

‘You should be more worried about your game,’ I remarked.

‘Why?’

‘What do you mean, ‘why’? You could... you know.’

‘If I die, it’ll be of no consequence for you,’ he said. ‘And besides, I’ll die at some point anyway. There’s no use in trying to avoid it.’

His words no longer scared me, but rather, they were upsetting. How could he be so cavalier about it?

He really doesn’t care about his own life...

‘It does have consequence. I told you in the dealer’s den, didn’t I? If you’re not going to try and survive for yourself, then at least do it for me.’

The corner of his mouth lifted into that familiar sly smile. ‘Such big demands. You shouldn’t waste your own life being concerned about mine.’

We crossed the road, entering a new street, and the metal edge of a blimp appeared in the far distance.

‘I think I told you about that too. I can’t help being scared for you.’ I glanced away, looking instead at the side of a van. The words still felt strange to say out loud, even if I’d said them so brazenly during the Witch Hunt. ‘I lo—’

The van door erupted in a hot blast of glass and metal. The force blew me back, stumbling, as something struck my face. Hands gripped my forearms, dragging me away from the ground – I was on the ground? – and pulling me in a direction. I didn’t know where we were. The streets were shaking, or maybe I was. Maybe the whole world was shaking. And was that Chishiya in front of me?

Chishiya?

There was red in his blond hair and on his neck, wet and glistening. And his fingers were tight – far too tight – around my wrist. Where was he going? My feet were moving after him. No, he was the one dragging me like this, swaying us back and forth erratically. My eyes began to focus, the fog in my head clearing a little.

The gunshots... and that van. But how could a gun do that to a van?

‘Chishiya?’

If he heard me, his only response was to pull me harder until his fingernails dug into my skin. My numb legs jittered and tingled, but I tried my best to keep up with him. There was a strange humming above our heads, and I looked up, catching sight of a blimp overshadowing the office buildings above, darkening their windows and...

A gleam.

‘Chishiya!’

Glass exploded everywhere as the store window behind us shattered. Someone screamed – they sounded like me, only I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t... Someone tugged at my clothes, but I tore away, sprinting as fast as I could down the street. There was a shooter. There was someone shooting at us.

Side to side... I need to run from side to side.

As I ran, I veered in different directions, trying to keep things as unpredictable as possible. I ducked around corners and alleys, only to realise something. Chishiya was nowhere to be seen.

Don’t panic.

I slowed, breathless, as I swung onto another street, dipping behind a store.

Don’t panic.

The store crashed apart; the windows destroyed. Arms shielding my face, I toppled to the ground, coughing uncontrollably at the smell of hot plastic as mannequin limbs scattered the pavement.

I needed to run... I needed to run. My head was throbbing and burning now. Picking myself up, I pushed to keep going, running no matter how much my limbs ached. There was a strange buzzing noise that clashed painfully with the ringing in my ears.

And then I saw a glimmer of hope.

Across a traffic intersection was a large, off-white building with endless windows, marked 図書館. The entrance door shut softly as someone took shelter inside.

There!

The buzzing noise grew louder and louder, and my vision swam as I tore across the empty roads and into the building, slamming the door behind me. My legs finally gave way, and I collapsed against the wall, my eyes closing as I caught my breath.

Chishiya. I lost sight of him after that window was destroyed. Maybe he ran in the other direction. Or maybe... No.

He can’t be. He wouldn’t, not that easily.

‘It’s you.’

My eyes shot open at the familiar voice. Of all people to bump into, An was staring down at me with mild concern. It was An. Surging with relief, I tried to get to my feet to greet her, only my head flashed with dizzying pain.

‘No,’ she said. ‘Don’t get up. You’ll need your strength.’ I didn’t understand. She came in here to shelter too, right? Before I could question her, she crouched down in front of me and gently touched my forehead. Her fingers came back red. ‘What happened?’

My lungs ached with each syllable. Just getting the words out was a struggle. ‘苣屋一緒...にいた. ダイヤモンドのジャックに... 行っていた. 銃の音... が聞きた. すべて...’ I was together with Chishiya... We were going to the Jack of Diamonds... I heard gun sounds... and then everything...

I didn’t know the words for ‘gunshots’ or ‘explosion’, but An still nodded in understanding. Her eyes narrowed a little at Chishiya’s name, only she didn’t appear to be surprised by what I told her.

‘That’ll be the King of Spades. His sniper isn’t a regular gun. It’s designed to penetrate airships and armoured cars apparently.’

I didn’t understand the latter half of what she said, but one name stuck out unmistakably.

The King of Spades?

‘どう知ってるか?’ I asked. How do you know?

An gestured behind her, and I finally noticed the two women anxiously watching us. One had long, flowing blond hair and was wearing a thin headband. The other had brown hair tied up in pigtails. ‘He attacked our camp right after the second stage started.’

So those were the gunshots we heard on the roof. And their camp...

‘Kuina?’

An lowered her head to the tiled floor. ‘I wish I could tell you, but I don’t know where she is. She left in a car with Arisu and Tatta. We were in a separate car and we drove all the way here.’

Kuina... she has to be alive. I refuse to believe otherwise.

She was strong and smart, and if she drove away with those two, she was probably okay.

Probably.

It made sense that the King of Spades started with their group, then travelled further into the city centre before running into Chishiya and I. But if he was moving to attack players then that could only mean... A sickening feeling grew in the pit of my stomach.

‘彼のゲーム会場,’ I said, ‘全部の東京だね?’ His game venue. It’s all of Tokyo, isn’t it?

‘It seems that way,’ An said, adjusting her sunglasses. ‘From what I can assume, the only place that isn’t his game venue is within other games.’ She glanced reassuringly at the other girls behind her. ‘While we’re in here, we should be safe from him, at least.’

At least?

A horrible thought slipped into my mind. A really, really horrible thought. But I almost didn’t want to believe it. It would be too unlucky – a downright cruel trick of fate.

My apprehensiveness must’ve been obvious, as An tilted her head, curiously. ‘You didn’t know,’ she murmured. ‘この建物はダイヤモンドの女王会場だ.’

No, it couldn’t be true. Maybe I misheard. I had to have misheard. My mind ran in circles, desperate to find Chishiya, to go home and finish my sentence, tell him what I tried to say before the van windows burst. But Chishiya wasn’t here. I didn’t know where he was. I was alone.

Assuming I hadn’t quite understood, An said it again, slower this time. There was no need. My fate was already sealed the moment I took shelter here.

‘This is the Queen of Diamonds venue.’

#alice in borderland #aib #Imawa no Kuni no Arisu #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #Chishiya x reader #chishiya x oc #chishiya alice in borderland

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incarnateirony · 3 years

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Do you know if the CW feels any impact from the audience of their shows in countries where they're not a channel? For example in Brazil there's no CW, but some of their shows are on the Warner Channel as well as stuff from other networks.

This one is a little more complicated, I'll start at "nyes".

Here's the thing: at the end of the day, the CW is an empty vessel. It has less than 400 employees, and technically even qualifies as a "small business" resultingly. It is an LLC, meaning it has no stocks, and can not be held accountable on the stock market and the executives there have a series of protections designed to keep them from taking personal hits.

Boycotting the CW is a method to plink the armor of its much larger parents. At the end of the day, the CW--shitty as its ethics, choices and influences are--are mostly beholden to its parent companies.

Does anyone remember when I told people, the second that Wayward was cancelled, that CBS was responsible, despite Wayward being a WB IP? I explicitly mentioned Moonves, and quoted his methodology on properties, ratings, streaming and more? Then dipshits like You Know Who tried to claim they knew better, and that I was crazy/stupid, and then like a month later one of the wayward women said at a M&G that the contractual breakdown was from CBS, and This Guy Named Moonves, and then there was radio silence and the You Know Whos emitted crickets, buried the conversation, and pretended it never happened?

That's because these things are related. They all influence each other, as per my last ask (x).

At the end of the day, the things that happened on, say, Supernatural are you actually being pissed at the WB. You can see the WB's historically failing Studio Responsibility Index on things like LGBT representation here at the GLAAD website. (x)

Just like a lot of the supreme BS attempted-but-massively-failing woke content tends to spew out of CBS trying to appeal to The Young Gays while segregating The Gay Stuff off their prime network that is historically way behind the others. They have no idea how to actually make or handle that content, but slap pride flags and a few Hashtag Fact phrases on content and plug it up the CW's ass to market it to you with more rainbows and a big impressive tally list of gay characters, that the You Know Whos of fandom insist make it a great representation channel, and bury the conversation that most of those are one-off or very minor characters, dead, or worse. They're there to hit a target that's a good talking point. Nothing else. They put a gay in the background of a poster somewhere so That Counts(tm) and look how progressive they are, make sure to attend his funeral next episode.

This may all seem like a huge aside to the initial ask but it's necessary framework to present, in association with the above-linked previous ask, on why holding the CW accountable is important. Because at the end of the day, be it the Nadria Tucker issues with WB/DC and their firing her for racist/sexist reasons; or the erasure of gays on Supernatural to the point there's clearly an order to their related syndication networks where they won't even air 15.09 or 15.18 again much less the finale; or the bullshit attempts at being woke on Walker where they think making ICE prisoners a talking point to launch a white man cop's story as relatable to an ICE officer's struggles is good marketing; to things outside of it, like--as posted by POLOL member Rebarn in the server,

-- these are people actually being mad at choices made by the CBS and WB. The CW is just a vessel to deliver it with minimal accountability and a PR mask people eat up like the gay candy they're trying to sell you even if it's just sugar free beaver anus flavoring.

But because of the size of these giant merged companies, like--trying to tackle WB head on for example is a fools' errand unless everyone pulled their heads out of their asses and ended this "I DO WHAT I WANT" personality and started heavily networking with say, DC fandoms and adjacent to do substantial damage to their franchises far larger. But, again, deferring to the above linked previous ask, if you knock out the CW as a content vehicle, even if it's smaller, you suddenly dent 6, 7, 8, 9 zeroes out of WB/CBS profits because you CAN knock down the CW, and change how they have to peddle their product.

To round full circle to your ask: just because the CW isn't in your country doesn't mean it does no good to boycott the content. Because the profit still goes to the IP holders (CBS, WB), and it's still part of the joint statement, as well as lowers the digital franchiseability of the products they're trying to resell on the market, internationally.

For example you know how internationally Netflix shows a lot of "Netflix originals" that are very obviously not originals, but are instead shows from other sources? That's part of The Rights Game. Initially CW and Netflix had a brokered deal of bulk packaging for a very large, very pretty price to them that helped bankroll them for years. This is also why CBS started shoveling absolute fodder content down the CW's throat that could run on just about negative ratings -- again, I point to the Moonves interview I cited as implication to why Wayward was bumped off the line -- so CBS could run away with the digital profits 100% licensing things in dozens or hundreds of companies. But CBS threw a goddamn hissyfit about merchandising rights when Netflix was like hey if we're gonna source all these shitty shows can we get like 10% of the merch value and CBS threw themselves on the mcdonalds playplace floor kicking and screaming, and then CW lost its legendary netflix deal which made them have to start peddling their content individually.

So if you cut off viewership of this content internationally, its franchiseability tanks, and CW continues to lose a huge part of its bankrolling value both with digital and to its parent companies using it as a vehicle to deliver content to shove into digital venues. The lack of the Netflix deal is why CBS is also wandering around like a pauper to platforms trying to find a home for its content--like convincing WB to host Walker on HBO Max, where I promise it's not going to do well. Most of its audience is beyond streaming age, and I promise no young 20 something is gonna open HBO Max and be like YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT TO WATCH, THIS YEEHAW COP REBOOT WITH JARED PADALECKI SPITTING IN A POT AND PULLING UP HIS PANTS. They're gonna fuckin' turn on Game of Thrones or something. Netflix, hulu, amazon don't fuckin' want it because they see that on the horizon. They're not gonna pay the money CBS wants for it. CBS All Access is for old people and they're too noncommittally fake woke just enough to piss off the Trumpers (points back to point about CBS content/representation way up there). So CBS DOESN'T EVEN WANT IT ON ITS OWN STREAMING PLATFORM.

Walker's housing arrangement on HBO Max is actually an early symptom of CW death throes, and CBS trying to figure out what the hell it's going to do once the CW goes under. It burned its netflix bridge, and soon won't have CW to try to float/sell/farm its content. Streaming apps don't want their content anymore. Their content underperforms.

So yes, absolutely boycott these products internationally. It adds to the weight of what's going on and continues to make CW less and less valuable on the front, continues to damage the actual IP holder parent companies and take their products to their knees, and continues to expediate the decline of it all in one network of fuckery. The same way the CW was a strength for its parents by webbing between them is now a way to drag them into a collective undertow and force bad business results on them all around, essentially inverting its value, expediting the rate at which they decide the CW is a money sink, and making them watch the 0s fly out of their bank account in a way that--say--trying to tackle the WB directly wouldn't accomplish.

CW no longer owns the rights to SPN, hence deleting its YT content. WB does. But WB has been feeling the crunch enough that brand new unopened S14 complete season blurays with specials are being sold under 10 dollars at walmart with 2$ off other movie tickets on the front and still not going off the shelves. That's them even trying to recover costs on releasing them to begin with. The WB tried to put out a mega 15 season uber collectors set giveaway enter by RT and got like, 300 RTs total. They need traction, they're not getting sales, and we're seeing the active results.

Continue to put heat on products that came by way of the CW as a result of their communal meddling being bad for business in any way possible, even after CW is no longer airing it and once the money is going straight into the IP holder parent company pockets. Not only are you then making The Correct People(tm) hurt, you're further devaluing the CW itself and accelerating its heat death which STILL will end up massively dinging the WB/CBS for reasons explained above in ways that kicking the titans in the shins itself wouldn't accomplish.

Hopefully that clarifies.

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sunflowerheartsandstarryskies · 3 years

Text

My Golden Curse - Maxwell Lord x Fem!Reader

Author’s Note: Hello again, I may have stumbled upon the Pedro Pascal fandom and I can’t get out, and I saw someone posted that they wanted an imagine with Maxwell Lord and the reader in which one of them gets kidnapped and the other just goes ballistic, and I basically kept getting that idea stuck in my head, this was only supposed to be a drabble but oh well. This depiction of Maxwell Lord is closer to the DC Comics version of him and not the movie but it has Pascal’s Lord’s likeness, so it’s like a combination of the two.

Also, I have survived my finals and had taken a break from writing for a while but I’m back and I have some ideas for my Lucifer multi-chapter fic as well. I also have an idea for a John Wick fic but I have no idea if anyone wants to read that.

Warnings: Typical comic-book violence, cursing (like two curse words), blood mentioned, kidnapping, bruises and injuries (like ribs breaking, a concussion, and a few lacerations

______________________________________________________________

Maxwell Lord IV prided himself on presentation. Everything had to be pristine and everything, even the garbage can by his desk had to be impeccable, because his business and himself in general, are put out on display for the public. He is a figurehead and a showman, so when you came along to be his assistant and secretary he was at first apprehensive because you didn’t dress as provocatively as he may have like and you didn’t look as model-esque as his other secretaries in the past. You didn’t apply to Chimtech to be fucked by your boss, you were good at your job and you aspire to show off your skills.

However, time went on when you first started to work for Maxwell Lord and you did a phenomenal job, whenever he was in a meeting you would always make sure to listen and take notes of what he needed while he was in the meeting. Whenever he requested for you to fax an item you would’ve made sure to have done it five minutes prior. Maxwell had no idea how you could be so efficient at your job, but he damn well appreciates it even if he rarely ever mentions it to you.

It’s an odd relationship that you guys have worked yourself in, a friendly relationship it seems, but both of you are teetering on the edge of wanting more. There have been teasing nicknames, mostly from you, you had a plethora of nicknames that you would give him, ranging from “Sandy” to “Ken”, but “Golden boy” was your favorite.

You would never admit this to him or even to yourself but you actually liked his blonde locks. In certain lightings, when you look at him you swear he was Midas, covered in his own golden curse. It was breathtaking to watch him at some points, but you always try to cover up your flustered state.

You knew Maxwell well, some may say too well for a secretary, but you rarely saw the side of him that most of his competitors and fellow businessmen saw, and that was the merciless and ruthless side to his tactics on getting what he wanted. Everyone in the public eye saw him as just the “King of Infomercials” but there was a reason why and how he got that title in the first place. Who knew the infomercial world could be so cruel and hectic?

You were able to catch glimpses of Maxwell’s amazing abilities of persuasion and showmanship, he was able to get people to admit to what they want and get them to go out and seize, whether that was good or bad. There was a particular talent that you find out he has and it was his ability to drag out people’s hidden desires, there were times when the people he used this talent were a shock as the people around them when they admitted to what they really wanted.

He was a golden idol of his own creation; he had to be especially to the people around him. However, that golden facade can only keep him held up for so long when the people he handed gold to realize that it’s fool’s gold.

______________________________________________________________

It was earlier in the day, you just woke up and got dressed in your office attire with a cup of coffee in hand as you try to will yourself to get going. You looked up at your apartment’s clock and it was 7:00 am, you needed to get going if you were to make it to Chimtech in time.

As you stepped out of your apartment building you felt a gloved hand over your mouth and panic flooding your whole body, but before your body could even fully process a flight or fight response you felt a sharp pain in your neck and you passed out.

When you come to, your vision is blurred and you can’t understand where you are and your brain just has confusion filling your senses. Why can’t you process what is around you? What happened to you? After a couple of more seconds went by you felt a rope tightly woven around your wrists, and you comprehended that you were sitting on a floor. What happened to you?

“Ah, there’s the little doll’s eyes! I was wondering if you were beginning to ever wake up,” a voice filled your ears. You blinked furiously trying to get your eyes to focus and you found yourself face to face with a man, who was grinning at you like a shark finding the prey they smelled a mile away.

“I’m sure you understand why you’re here? I don’t need to monologue it to you, do I?” the man asks.

“Mr. Vince, right? You were in a meeting with my boss Maxwell Lord, a month ago, right?” you questioned him as the drug and weariness started to seep out of you, and you gained more awareness of your surroundings. The man, Mr. Vince was a part-owner of a tech company that Chimtech was interested in making an investment in, however from what you were aware of was that the true goal of the meetings with Vince and his company was to absorb it into Chimtech, forcing Vince and the other owners to give up their powers over to Maxwell Lord and the other board members of Chimtech.

“I see the drugs didn’t impair your memory, I assume you are aware that I am no longer a CEO? That I was tricked by your goddamned boss?! That he put me in a corner to give up my company over to him!” he screamed. He was half an inch from your face and you were terrified of this man, he was unhinged.

“What does this have to do with me, Mr.Vince?” you asked, forcing yourself to not push him over the edge.

“Ooooh this has everything to do with your boss, I remembered that you are his secretary, so you must know some secret of his, something I can leverage against him to make him give me my company back,” he said.

“Even if I have any sort of information to give you, the damage is already done, your company is done in, it’s already been processed into Chimtech, there is none of your company left.”

That was the wrong thing to say as you felt a kick to your stomach. You groaned and rolled onto your side, and before you could recover from that there was another swift kick that you felt go directly to your ribs.

______________________________________________________________

Minutes blended into hours of constant yelling from Vince to him pulling you off the ground to throwing you back down like you were a piece of litter to being his personal punching bag. It was all you could do to just protect yourself and persevere through the pain because you were just a secretary, you were never trained in self-defense, hell you never even did track in high school.

Through the pain, you felt complete distortion and a high pitch whining going through your head, and you finally realized it was a telephone- a landline. Where the hell did this guy get a landline in this beat-up place?

Then, you hear Vince say, “Oh you want to hear how (Y/N) is?” you hear footsteps coming towards you then cold plastic was pressed to your cheek then Vince continued loudly, “Well here she is, talk.”

“(Y/N)?” You heard Maxwell, your golden boy, say your name and all you can do was say his name back in a raspy voice.

“What did he do to you?” Maxwell asked.

Before you could say any more the phone was taken away from you and Vince’s voice filled your ears.

“Tick tock Maxwell, I want my money and you can get your fuck toy back.”

Then silence, a sickening silence filled the room which made you feel every ache and pain that has been put on your body has made itself known by increasing levels of agony. You didn’t even feel it in you to even try to correct Vince’s words about you. You just wanted to sleep and not wake up for a whole day, maybe if you laid perfectly still and just not move a muscle the pain would go away.

As you lay there you tearily open your eyes back up and you can hear the tinny sounds of the echoing footsteps of your captor pacing back and forth in the room you were held in. It was nauseating, and you were confused as you thought, When did you close your eyes? How long were you out?

Then you fell back into your head, and you felt like you were spiraling in your own mind mixed with dizziness and nausea. You just wanted this to end.

A male voice was shouting so close to you and you can feel the panic coming out of his voice, and you can tell it wasn’t Vince because why would he do that?

You felt yourself being lifted from the ground and all you could do was cough sporadically from the new movements on your injuries. It hurt, it hurt so bad.

“I know (Y/N), but you just need to keep going a little bit longer,” the same voice told you.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint where you heard that voice before but you thought it was your boss, Maxwell Lord, but it couldn’t be. That would be the last thought that went through your mind before you lost it to the void.

All you can see at first was just bright and it hurt so bad. When you turned your head you saw a flash of gold and your first thought was, ‘Maxwell’. When your eyes adjusted to the room around you it really was your boss, Maxwell Lord in the hospital with you. He was slumped down in a chair beside your bed and you saw there were roses in a vase on the table next to you.

“Gold-golden boy, hey,” you rasped out trying to wake him. You coughed and then groaned as you felt the lacerations and bandages around your torso.

You saw him stir in the chair and his eyes opened and landed on yours. “Hey boss,” you whispered cringing at your voice. Your hands clenched at the sheets around you as you saw him blink furiously and stood up fast. You flinched at the fast movement but he didn’t seem to notice, as he moved closer to you.

“I am sorry about what happened to you, I didn’t think that our clients would go so far as to do this to you. I can’t believe that bastard did all of this to you-”

“It’s okay, I mean it hurts like a bitch but you ended up finding me didn’t you? What happened to him anyway?” you cut him off.

“Ah well, I may have gotten violent with him before the law enforcement could get him,” he said twisting his hands around and that’s when you saw the scrapes on his knuckles.

“I don’t know if you were a white knight to me but you certainly are a golden devil for doing that,” you replied.

He huffed out a laugh at your reply and he opened his mouth to say something but got interrupted when a nurse arrived.

______________________________________________________________

After the nurse left, you found out you still have a concussion lingering still, three bruised ribs and lacerations across your whole torso and arms.

When he listened to the whole list of injuries that you had gotten in the three days that you were with Mr. Vince, he felt rage boil over him but he tried to keep calm as he remembered the battered state he left Vince in. At least he made him feel some of the pain that he made you go through, Maxwell was a very prideful man in how he acts so for him to act like that was completely out of character for him.

He must be looking worried because he noticed your furrowed brows and you glancing at him every so often.

“Did you want to say something?” he asked

“Well, I was gonna ask you a similar question because I think you were interrupted by the nurse. Also are you okay?”

Your question startled him and the mention of the interruption made him clear his throat and fidget with his suit to try to hide the blush that was threatening to come up to his face. Your inquisitive expression on your face was watching him.

“I’ve been thinking that if you would like to leave the company, I won’t force you to stay, especially with what happened this week,” he said.

Listening to him say this made you panic and as you tried to sit up, Maxwell came up to you quickly as he says, “What do you think you’re doing? You got to take it easy.”

As you are situated in your bed you went to reach for Maxwell’s hand as you say, “Why would I want to quit? I love my job and I love working with you even if at times I don’t seem like it. None of what happened to me was your fault, how could you have known that Vince would react to the merger the way that he did.”

Maxwell was startled by this, he never had anyone in his family nor his company is so willing to stay with him especially when they are given an out.

He bowed his head toward you and said, “If you keep saying things like that I might want to keep you by my side for a long time.”

You laughed as you replied, “If you let me I will, you are a weird but kind man-” you stopped yourself as a thought came to your head.

“How long have you been here? What about Chimtech?”

“Ah well if my secretary didn’t get kidnapped and injured I wouldn’t be here right now, but you made me worried and how can I do my best work without my best assistant around me?”

“Now you’re just flattering me”

“But it’s true”

“Hmmm if you say so, Sandy”

______________________________________________________________

Four days have gone by and you were finally released from the hospital to go back to your apartment. You tried to go back to work at Chimtech, but Maxwell found you were released and gave you the rest of the week off to recover. You would become the envy of the company at this rate with how well the boss has been treating you.

Now that you have been just lounging in your apartment watching TV movies, and eating takeout for meals it has given you time to properly understand what happened to you for the past two weeks.

The way your boss, Maxwell, has been treating you made you see a whole new side of him. At first, you thought of working for him as both a blessing and a curse. At first, it was hell on earth, you ran yourself ragged making sure everything was up to par with Maxwell’s standards but after the next three years working with the man you considered him a friend of sorts. Even though you always tried to make sure to never consider employers and colleagues be separate from your personal life but it’s hard to do that when all you have is your work life.

Ever since the kidnapping incident, Maxwell had visited you every day in the hospital he even gave you flowers on the last day of your hospital visit, it was a beautiful vase of sunflowers.

You didn’t realize how long you were sitting on your couch thinking about your boss when you heard a knock on your door. You looked at the clock near your tv and realized it was nearly midnight.

‘Who could come by to my apartment at this hour?’ you thought.

You got up carefully minding the bruises still littering your body, and you opened the door surprised to see Maxwell.

His hair was a bit disheveled and he didn’t have a suit jacket on showing off the suspenders he likes to wear. He looked quite cute seeing him like this.

“Come in, Mr. Lord. What brings you to my place this late at night?” you inquired.

He ran his hand through his hair as he entered your apartment and he turns to look at you as you closed the door.

He sighed as he said, “I don’t know how quite to put this without sounding terrible, but after what happened to you, I can’t stop thinking about you. You are the best woman-the best person I’ve known and for you to still want to work with me after everything that has happened.”

He looked like he was getting frustrated with himself, you were shocked because how could you have gotten the king of infomercials to be so frustrated with his own words?

You took a tentative step forward to him as you placed a hand on his arm.

“Sandy, what’s going on?”

He was silent for a moment before he looked into your eyes with a strong determination as he says, “You know more about me than my own mother does, and after all this time together I’ve grown to respect you more and more. When I saw you in that hospital I wanted to kill the bastard and send him to hell when I found you like that in the warehouse.”

“I-I don’t know what to say, Mr. Lord-”

“Call me Maxwell, none of your silly names, not boss, not my last name, just Maxwell”

You could tell he was earnest with this and sincere it took your breath away to see him like this. He was beautiful and it made your heart flutter when you realize what he might be trying to confess to you.

“Maxwell” you breathed out testing his name out. You said his name once before and that was when you had gotten kidnapped but now this is completely different, almost like a prayer. A prayer to this golden devil of yours.

He smiled when he heard you say his name and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I wish I could kiss all the scars away from your body so you never have to live with them again. I wish that I could be yours, fully and I want to be clear that I would never use you like I may have done to my secretaries in the past. I want to be yours, in any way you may want me.”

“Oh Maxwell, I think I might have to grant your wish this time,” you say blinking away tears that were threatening to spill as you were listening to his confession.

“(Y/N)” he whispered reverently.

He cradled your face with both hands as he studied your face to see any resistance than he gently placed his lips on yours.

You made a small gasp as you finally felt his lips on yours, you clutched onto his shirt as you pulled him closer to you. He tilted his head and pushed your chin up to meet in for a deeper kiss. It felt amazing and you felt loved.

When you parted you were chasing each other’s lips to crash back into each other as you kissed each other until you both need a break. Both of your lips were swollen and you looked at him with such love that when Maxwell saw, he almost wanted to take you then and there but he was mindful of how fragile this love could be.

Author’s Note: I might do a second part if people want it but whew this took a lot out of me, I hope you guys like it!

#maxwell lord x reader #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro Pascal #maxwell lord #imagines #x reader #wonder woman 1984 #max lord x reader

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lifblogs · 3 years

Text

Whumptober 2021

No. 3 - STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT...

taunting | insults | "Who did this to you?"

Fandom: Supernatural Title: A Good Little Slut Rating: Mature Word Count: 1241 Summary: Sam ends up trapped with Lucifer. WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Beating, Broken Bones, Choking, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse READ ON AO3

“Come on, Sam,” Lucifer taunted. “You know you want to.”

“Never,” Sam argued.

“Oh, really?” he asked, casually leaning against the bars of the warded cage Rowena and Crowley had set up. “Then why are you here?”

“You know why. God—”

“God wants you to do this! He sent you to me! He knows you. He knows me. We don’t just need to do this. We want to! I know you.” Sam was shaking his head, and Lucifer was pointing a finger at him. “I know you, Sam! You can’t deny it. I’ve spent more time with you than anyone else ever has or ever will.” He pressed up against the bars now, as if he wanted to be right on top of him. His hands gripped his prison, and with hungry eyes, and a low voice, he said, “I know you liked it.”

Sam could barely breathe as he stood there amongst the darkness, and the bones, and the flickering flames.

Lighting struck, the following thunder making him flinch and close his eyes.

Sam turned away from him, his shoulders risen, all of his body tense. He didn’t know whether to run or hide, or simply just stay there and hope that if he didn’t move the bad thing would leave him alone.

“I know you did. We both did. Remember how it felt? All that power?”

“Shut up!” Sam cried, whirling on him. “If you know me so well then you know that—that… that all of it was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Worse than losing my soul, than losing Dean, than having to survive my own freakin’ childhood! You possessing me was like… it was like…” Sam froze, no words on his tongue that so desperately wanted to argue, or perhaps just wanted to help him scream. How could he argue with a being of true evil? “Just shut up. You’ll never understand.”

Lucifer seemed unfazed by this; in fact, he seemed amused. With a raised eyebrow, hips leaning against the bars now he asked, “I’m sorry, are we talking about the same thing, bunk buddy?”

Sam shuddered, and refused to meet his eyes.

“I made you my bitch, and I can do it again. What you’re feeling right now? That’s denial: denial about how you feel. You want me in you, in all the ways that are possible. So just… say yes, and we can go back to the good life. To how things were.”

“Wow, that’s not rapey at all,” Sam muttered.

Lucifer shrugged. “Rape’s such a strong word. It doesn’t really matter. Only the truth does.”

“So what,” Sam asked, “you think taunting me about—about all the fucked up shit you put me through is going to make me say yes?”

“Just trying to get you to remember the good old days.”

“Fine. You know what I remember?” Sam asked. “I remember you backing me into a corner. I remember you not giving me any other choice but to say yes. And then I couldn’t take it back. That’s not consent. That’s not even close to consent! And then when we were here in Hell, you hurt me! Every second, you hurt me, you used me. You violated me. You tore me apart. So if all of that is your argument, then you’ve got a pretty weak one, and I doubt you could make it better.”

Lucifer sniffed, and ground his teeth together, rolling his jaw around. He stepped back, hands up. “Fine. Fine! If that’s the way you want to play it.”

The fires began to go out.

Sam’s heart stopped, adrenaline shooting through him to the point of making him light-headed, everything tingling.

The sigils and wards were going out.

“What’s happening?” Sam muttered, mostly to himself. He turned back to where Rowena and Crowley were watching, mostly out of earshot, and yelled, “Rowena, what’s happening!”

All she did was answer him with a grin and she took Crowley and left.

“Crowley!” Sam cried, even while knowing betting on the King of Hell to help him was up there with some of his stupidest thoughts and whims. “Crowley!”

He turned, and then he wasn’t outside the cage anymore. He was in it.

Sam rammed back into the bars in the corner, gripping them so he wouldn’t collapse. Lucifer approached.

“You know, the funny thing about this, Sammy, is that… well, there is no God. He went out for a pack of smokes and never came back. Oh no, it wasn’t my dear old dad inside your head.”

He was right in front of him now, and he gripped his neck, one thumb rubbing at his chin. He didn’t choke, just touched. Sam was close to tears, feeling his throat ache, the pinch at the corners of his eyes.

“You see, when the Darkness was released the Cage was damaged. There were cracks, and I slipped through them. And you know what I did?” Sam’s eyes widened in horror, his legs going completely weak and watery. He was hot and cold with dread and apprehension, and sheer terror. No, this couldn’t be happening. No.

“I visited you. Not as much as I wanted to, but as much as I could. So it wasn’t God inside your head, you little slut. It wa always. Just. Me. And now you’re going to let me inside again!”

Sam spat in Lucifer’s face, and Lucifer spat right back.

A punch landed in his gut, knocking all the air out of him. Then, hand tightening around his throat, other hand gripping his shoulder, he threw Sam clear across the cage, where he banged into the bars. His back and legs were numb where they’d met the metal. And then he fell, coughing, feeling like his throat was stuffed up with cotton.

Before he could do much more Lucifer was by him again, and he kicked him dead on in the sternum.

There was a crack, and Sam let out a choked scream.

Lucifer leaned down, grabbing him by his hair, and dragged him to the center of the cage, where he straddled him, holding his head down.

“You will say yes,” he said, his tone absolute.

Sam struggled beneath him despite being near-blind from pain.

“You want to know why?”

“Not… particularly.” Sam gasped out, grimacing and writhing as Lucifer caressed his face with a possessive fondness.

He let out a moan that turned into a cry as Lucifer felt his way softly down his neck, and explored over his pectorals, and then ended the little journey with his hands by pressing down on his sternum. The other hand was reaching low, hiking his shirt up, going under it and feeling at one of his nipples.

Sam tossed his head back as it was squeezed mercilessly and then flicked. His teeth sent bright sparks of pain through his skull from the pressure of him clenching his jaw.

Lucifer’s hand then went down again. Down, down… It pressed right in between his legs, and Sam jolted with fear, even as a hellish and undesired want flooded him.

The Devil kissed him, Sam scrunching up his face in disgust. And then he said, eyes glowing red, “Because you’ve always been my good, little slut.”

He brought his lips to his again, and started working on his belt.

Dean. Help me, Sam thought.

Dean would come, Sam knew. He had to. But he’d be too late.

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