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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months

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the compound part one

words: 2k

warnings: alien apocalypse au!, violence, reader gets injured, hunger/starvation, mentions of death

part one / part two

you take a deep breath as your eyes focus on the pile of supplies. you know it's bait. you know it's purposely set up near the border of the compound to entice thieves, that someone elses eyes are likely on it right now.

but you have no choice. your stomach growls. you can see canned food. it's been so long since you had something from before. you've resorted to killing wild animals and gathering as much edible berries and plants as you can find, but even those are hard to come by. everything is hard to come by.

you look at the fence separating you. it's chain link, easy enough to climb. there's barbed wire placed on the top, fashioned together with zip ties, but plenty of space for you to fit between.

your eyes adjust as darkness falls, glad your hiding spot is shielding you from most of the wind. now that winter is rolling through the north carolina woods, you need to come up with a new plan. whether it's moving south or finding others to survive with that you trust enough to not kill you for using their resources or leaving you behind as alien bait.

a cloud passes over the moon, sending the world into even further darkness. you don't allow yourself time to second guess, shooting forward as fast as your legs can carry you, praying that your speed makes up for the sound as you scurry over the fence.

you groan when in your haste you cut your leg on the barbed wire, but you have no time to stop and see if the gash is deep.

you make it to the stack of supplies seemingly without notice, but the second your hands touch the box of canned food, a floodlight illuminates the yard of the compound.

“shit.” you allow yourself to mutter a curse word, picking up the small box and tucking it under your arm as you head towards the fence, knowing the other side means safety.

“stop!” someone shouts from behind as you begin to climb, moving slower now that you have less mobility of one arm.

you let out a scream when someone grabs your leg, you try to kick them away, but then your other foot is grabbed, being pulled down by compound men. you struggle the best you can, even dropping your precious cans of much needed food in hope it hits one of them, but your hands can only hang on for so long before you succumb to their pulling, falling backwards with a thump, head hitting the ground and darkness enveloping you.

your head pounds as you try to blink your eyes open before realizing that they're covered by a blindfold.

what a shitty way to go out, you think to yourself. blindfolded and gagged by compound men. at the end of the world, you don't meet your end in an aliens bite but rather from other humans.

it makes you question if along with the apocalypse people lost their humanity, or if they're just finally able to show their true colors without the expectations of society.

you slowly become more aware of your body. your hands are restricted behind your back to some kind of chair. your fingers reach out to touch the rope and then the chair, sighing when it's cold and smooth. wood you could possibly break, but you have no chance with metal.

your feet aren't restricted. you try to feel around for anything, but the floor around you seems clear.

you consider tipping your chair over, but you have a feeling that would only result in more pain for you.

“you awake?” the question is asked. it's a male voice, of course. it's widely known the compound is almost completely male. only a few rare women have ever been seen behind the fence. you're not sure what their recruitment process is, but you've heard whispers that they bring impressive people in. people that try to steal from them and get caught or defend their stash when the compound men leave on their raids.

you thrash in your seat since you're not able to respond. no use delaying the inevitable. if they're going to kill you, you don't want to wait around for it to happen.

“good.” the voice says, and then all of a sudden the blindfold is tugged off your eyes. it takes you a second to adjust before you can properly look around the room, realizing you're up on a stage, auditorium seats in front of you with a few men in them, all heavily armed.

you realize quickly that the military base the compound men took over must have had some sort of stage for speeches, and that you're now center spotlight.

“she did pretty good.” one of the men in the auditorium hums from the seats as the one who took of your blindfold exits down the stairs to join them. “got to the fence. most people don't even get that far.”

you try to tune out their words, eyes sweeping from some sort of escape, or help. you've learned not to rely on human help after the aliens came, but you might not have any choice.

“yeah, but she got caught.” one man huffs out.

“shit, billy, shut up. we need more women around here.” a new man says, his eyes feeling predatory as he looks over your body, making you press your thighs tightly together. you manage to look to the side to realize there's an armed man on either side of the stage, tucked slightly into the wings, but their dark eyes on you.

“we shouldn't even be arguing.” the man who untied your blindfold says. “wait for him.”

him. the infamous leader of the compound. you've never seen him or even heard his name, but he has a reputation from the bit of gossip you've managed to pick up. cruel. not bloodthirsty or barbaric like some of the men under him, but unflinching in his standards. refusing to give out any sort of help or aid even if a mother is on her knees begging at the fence.

you've heard from some that he doesn't care, you've heard from others that it's because his men come first.

you also know every time the compound men leave on a raid, they're looking for more than just food. someone. someone that the leader lost. presumed dead, just like most of the people after the aliens came, but that doesn't stop him from looking.

your heart breaks for him despite his cruelty. you wonder if it's a son. a daughter. a sister, mother or wife.

you refuse to let your mind turn to the ones you lost. you weren't close with your parents when it happened, but your friends… your boyfriend. you shake your head, willing the thoughts to leave. no use getting emotional right at the end.

you hear footsteps, the men scattered around the first few rows moving to situate themselves, sitting a little straighter, making sure their makeshift uniforms are done properly.

the doors at the back of the auditorium open. you wait for the figure to step out of the darkness, the emerge from the shadow from the mezzanine above.

“untie her. now.” the voice rings out, so familiar it hurts as the men from the wings move quickly to undo your gag. you feel the sudden coolness of a blade against your wrist, but it slashes away at the rope.

the man is moving quicker now, your eyes widening when you realize who he is.

“rafe!” you scream, shooting up from the chair. tears are already streaming down your cheeks as you run, sprint as fast as you can across the stage, rafe also breaking into a run as you take the stairs so fast you're worried you'll fall.

“y/n!” rafe yells out as you reach each other. you're lifted into the air behind him, sobs racking your body as you press your face into his neck, legs wrapping around his hips.

“you're alive!” you can hear the disbelief in rafes voice.

“i-i thought you were dead rafe.” you whimper into his neck, pressing kisses to his skin between the words. “i came to tanneyhill after they arrived and it was-” you can't finish your sentence. partly because the pain of having to describe what happened to tanneyhill, the home you spent so much time at. but mostly you don't finish because rafe sets you down, moving your head out from his neck to press his lips against yours.

you sigh with relief before kissing back, hands fisting in his uniform, just now realizing how bulky his clothing is, various weapons hanging from them.

“i-i love you so much.” you tell rafe, pressing your fingers against his cheeks, the plains of them still as smooth as you remember. you look into his eyes. it's the same rafe, your rafe, but at the same time he's different. clearly hardened by the apocalypse, aged quicker from the stress.

“i love you.” rafe kisses you again. “i never stopped looking for you.”

you. you're the one. not a son or a sister, but the person the compound men were looking for.

“i-i didn't know you were here.” you wish you saw rafe out on a raid, but just like everyone else in the north carolina woods, you scatter when the compound men leave their base, almost as much of a threat as the aliens are.

“otherwise you wouldn't have stole from me, huh?” rafe smirks, making you giggle. he clearly hasn't lost his sense of humor.

he pulls you close to his chest as he looks to his men. “dismissed. i will be in my chambers. no disturbances unless it's an emergency.”

the men instantly scatter. rafe waits until they all leave before turning to look at you, hands skirting down your body to your wrists. he sighs deeply when he sees the marks from the rope, red and bleeding in some places.

“let me get you cleaned up.” rafe says, and you just nod. it feels surreal to finally be back with him, your boyfriend who you could have sworn was dead. you didn't stay long in the outer banks, not with the limited resources of an island, but you looked every day for rafe to see if he somehow survived the aliens before you fled into the woods.

you feel like your eyes are still glazed over as rafe leads you out of the auditorium, promising you a full tour of the compound later as he moves swiftly down the halls, two men walking in front of him and two men behind him.

you should have known rafe would get himself into some sort of leadership position even after the apocalypse. he might not be the most well versed in combat or shooting, but he can lead and throw commands around like he was born for it.

“this is my- our chambers.” rafe pushes the door open, the four men remaining outside as rafe leads you in. it's surprisingly comfortable inside, suddenly feeling like you're in a home rather than a military base.

“i-i think i may have died when i fell off the fence. there's no way this is real.” you genuinely have to run your hands along your arms, pinching yourself to make sure you aren't dreaming.

“it's real, baby.” rafe sighs with relief as he strips off the weapons, placing them at the table near the door before stripping off his fatigues until he's just in a plain white tshirt and shorts, looking just like the boy you knew before the end came.

as he steps closer, arms wrapping around you and allowing you to relax into his hold, reality comes rushing to you. you try to keep your cries quiet, but in no time sobs are racking your body, rafe lowering you both to the ground as you cry, loud sobs, even interlaced with screams from all the horrors you saw surviving without him. you let it all go, finally safe enough to.

rafe doesn't say anything, just holds you until your cries lessen and you pass out, exhaustion pulling you to sleep.

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etfrin · 4 months

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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter three | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | minor character death, Coriolanus Snow is his own warning

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 Coryo finds out the consequences of his actions and finds one of his friends dead

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 third chapter is here!! Do remember to give feedback, thank you!!

beta read:: @nowitsmissing <33

series masterlist | navigation | previous chapter

According to Coryo, Dean Highbottom deserves to be punched. Coriolanus truly wishes he could punch that man's face and break his teeth in the process.

As soon as he entered the classroom, with you in tow. Highbottom doesn't waste a second to praise your insight into welcoming the tributes at the zoo and how you acted in front of the cameras. Creating the very spectacle they had been aiming for. Snow was fuming because he was sure it was because of his songbird, not his soulmate that the views had gotten up.

But, he doesn't think Mr. High As A Kite cares. Coriolanus almost thought he wouldn't even get any attention, neither positive nor negative. He was willing to accept that outcome considering the fact he perhaps broke several rules being inside the cage along with the tributes.

He was wrong.

‘Three demerits and you will be expelled.’

And he officially has his first demerit, on his perfect darn record. He opens his mouth to speak against it-

“Snow falls down on the cage.

It falls down on the cage

But it landed…” Dr. Gauls’ voice echoes around the classroom as she walks down the stairs to Coriolanus level.

“On stage,” he replied, his face nonchalant but his hands fisted on his lap, hidden from view. He had an urge to kick at the table, his mind reeling over what if Dean Highbottom removed him from the games. Would that mean he will be disqualified from the Plinth Prize?

He can't have that. He can't.

Before his mind spirals into a panic attack, dr. Gaul steals his attention with her words.

“You're good at Games,” she said, “Perhaps one day you'll be a game maker like me.” Coriolanus Snow couldn't possibly think of a future in which he's a gamemaker, he never thought of it as a real career. Nothing of his interests nor challenging enough for him. Of course, he doesn't say his thoughts out loud.

He doesn't reply at all, he doesn't have to because Dr. Gaul asks him a question. What are the Hunger Games for? There's no true answer to that. Something so cruel, something so horrible. There's no way to justify that with the truth. Lies perhaps, lies he was taught in the textbooks.

“They’re to punish the districts for their uprising,” he said, only to be replied with “Dull, dull, dull,” by Dr. Gaul.

“Why the games?” She asked again. And Coriolanus had no answer. Because there were plenty of ways to punish the districts. Starvation. Bombing. Public execution.

Why the games?

Coriolanus Snow had no answer and Sejanus Plinth took over instead. As usual, he spewed about the wrongness of the games. The words that will go one ear in and another ear out. Dean Highbottom butts in the discussion as well, talking about how the game had run its course.

Coriolanus can't have that, he can't even fathom the thought of the games gone and in return losing his chance of winning. Coriolanus stands up, gaining the attention of his peers and authoritative figures alike with a daring but simple sentence.

“Dean Highbottom is wrong. My classmates too,” he said, his voice filled with the confidence he didn't feel.

His fingers twitch, feeling the urge to touch the burned soulmate mark on his wrist as a way to calm his soul down. He did no such thing, burying the urge deep in his mind as he began to explain his reasoning.

“People need someone to root for and to root against. . .” He continues, “And if we bend a few Capitol laws, we can even get people to place bets.”

He swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that his palms had begun to sweat as he waited for a reply. After a bit, dr. Volumnia Gaul grinned. Her smile made his bones chill.

“Very well, Coriolanus Snow,” she said, her tone calm yet underneath laid excitement. “I’d like you to write a proposal of these thoughts, Mr. Snow.”

Before Coriolanus could agree to the opportunity, you jump in. You stand up, beside Coryo. Your soft voice rang in his ear and he subconsciously closed his eyes to savor your voice no matter what it said. For a moment he didn't even seem to hear what you were saying, he quickly opened his eyes, looking down on the wooden floor instead. His pale cheeks burning, praying that no one saw that.

He finally hears what you say.

“Let's not limit the Games to the Capitol. Let's unite the whole of Panem with it,” you said, your voice filled with conviction. “I am sure Dr. Gaul if you give me the chance to write a proposal too, you won't be less than impressed.”

“Very well, miss,” she said, cordially, “I will be looking forward to seeing what the star mentors have to say.”

“Do not disappoint,” Dr. Volumnia Gaul grins before taking herself out of the classroom.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

After a quick lunch (not, he decided to sneak food for Lucy Gray) and a plan to meet up with you in the library at night. He sets out in the Zoo with Sejanus Plinth on his toe. The rich boy carrying a whole bag of food, something Coriolanus could only dream of. While Coriolanus had some sloppy sandwich and cold cookies wrapped in a napkin.

Shamed filled his veins about the fact that in his current abilities, he could bring stolen food for his tribute. He takes solace in the fact Sejanus’ tribute refused the bacon sandwich offered to him. A satisfaction in his mind to see Sejanus being rejected by his tribute while Lucy Gray was cooperative as before.

She takes the food, giving some of it to the district twelve boy. Coriolanus frowned as he saw her share the food he bought her. He leaned into the cage to whisper, “Are you going to share everything I give you?”

Lucy Gray replied, not skipping a beat, “You think I ought to build up my strength so I can strangle him in the arena?”

Coriolanus wishes to snap at her and say yes but he knew he had to show kindness to the songbird for her to do his bidding. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down, as Lucy Gray's eyes divert to his classmate, Arachne, his classmate who was busy amusing herself with her district ten tribute.

“Hunger is a weapon in the districts,” Lucy Gray comments, “Seems like your friend here knows it.”

Coryo barely suppressed a snort as he replied, “She's not a friend. She's poison with perfect teeth.” He smiles along with Lucy Gray. He leans down to Lucy Gray's level, his fingers gripping the bars between them. He whispered, “I may have the chance to help you. Make suggestions. I might even get the chance to send you gifts in the arena. Food and water.”

Lucy Gray replied, her voice hardening with the fact that she knew there was a catch, “What's the catch?”

“You might need to sing.”

“I don't sing when I am told. I sing when I have something to say.”

Coriolanus furrows his eyebrows as he hears her response. She would rather die in the arena than create a spectacle of herself. Stupid in his opinion, to value the integrity of art over their life. He opens his mouth to convince her otherwise but then an incident happens that leaves him shaken to his core.

The district ten girl, the tribute Arachne was playing with snatched the water bottle from his peer, smashes it against the cage… and in a blink of an eye, Arachne had her throat slit.

Horror fills Coriolanus as he rushes to her side. His hands over her wound, putting pressure to stop the flow of never-ending crimson blood. He sees her eyes losing life, he almost didn't hear the gunshots killing the tribute who caused this. He cried out for help, only to be ignored. He was grabbed by the shoulder by a peacekeeper. He was dragged away, as Arachne Crane bled out in front of him.

She was dead.

The people from the district were truly animals is his last thought, as he blinks away the tears and shock and goes to his home.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

In the comfort of his ruined home, he had taken a shower and had dinner with his family. He listens to the warnings his grandma’am spewed and hears Tigris voice her opinion against it. He doesn't say a word in between, his fingers tracing the scar over and over again, it was the action that managed to keep him sane for the moment.

After the dinner, he begins to change his outfit. He wears a black shirt, something from his father's closet, and too-tight grey pants. He looks at his hands and imagines Arachne on them. He takes a sharp breath and watches the red fade away from his mind. He tugs at his shirt sleeve and the burned tissue comes into view.

He does so hoping that you're waiting for him in the library. Lucy Gray was a disappointment, Sejanus too. Arachne death is a disappointment too. You were the only one he could rely on not to do the same.

He pressed his lips to the scar and for a mere flash of the moment imagines kissing you instead. For a moment, he forgets you're District, for a moment you're just his and he indulges himself in the fantasy of having your soft lips against his.

Tigris breaks him from his daydream by asking, “Are you sure that she will be waiting, Coryo?”

He looks back at Tigris, his lips pulled in a smirk, his thoughts free of mourning. He covers the scar and replies,

“She was never one to disappoint.”

Next Chapter

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thecuriousquest · 5 months

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Everything has a Price

Bisexual & Poly Yan!TodoBakuDeku x Fem!Reader

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug @palesweetscherryblossom

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

Master List

Request Rules

—————————————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright then. Beg.”

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

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

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

“Yes, Master.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere themes #triggering content #triggering themes #my hero acedamia #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere shoto todoroki #yandere izuku midoriya #yandere todobakudeku #poly todobakudeku #todobakudeku

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just-j-really · 5 months

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Another Dreamling fic I'm probably not going to write: amnesia AU, but played for comedy/fluff. Hob forgets everything from the night he met Dream onward because of some sort of curse. Dream decides to look after him until the curse wears off, because he is Being a Good Friend.

So from Hob's perspective, a Mysterious Hot Guy told him he'd see him in 100 years time and then he woke up in the future, with the Mysterious Hot Guy refusing to let him out of his sight.

Hob is under the impression he's being kidnapped/seduced by some fey creature, and "show him the delights the future has to offer" is just how this guy flirts.

Hob is not opposed.

Meanwhile Dream is being dragged along on a whirlwind tour of the year 2023 by a Manic Pixie Dream Medieval Peasant who wants to see absolutely everything there is to see in the future right now immediately.

(I am a little bit thinking of the festival dance scene in Tangled, with Hob as Rapunzel. Only instead of Festival Activities he is enthusiastically dragging Dream around to the various Sights of modern London.)

The Sights in Question are this bizarre mix of 'things a modern person would consider an attraction in modern London' and 'entirely banal parts of modern London' and Hob is having the time of his life. The future has stores full of more food than he's seen??? And types of food he's never seen??? And spices and off-season fruit just sitting there??? And fabric is so soft now???? And medication and pest control are just??? Available??? Life is so rich!!!!

(And on the other hand like. This man was excited about playing cards. Someone please show him an arcade. He is forcing Dream to play every multiplayer game available. Especially the driving ones. Neither of them knows how to drive.)

(Dream takes him to a museum and he's staring at a display from the 14-1500s marveling at how futuristic the technology is. He's actually more excited about that stuff than he is about the whole 'computers' thing because it's close enough for him to have some point of reference.)

(Also sidebar from the comedy- Maybe Dream shows Hob the ruins of the White Horse. Hob stares at the building for a long time, then starts crying. Not outright sobs, just tears steadily slipping down his face like he's not really aware of them. Dream panics and tries to comfort him, mentally kicking himself for showing Hob the one connection to the life he knows in ruins. But Hob, laughing now, explains that this was the first time it really hit him? That he's actually 600 years in the future, not in some fairyland Dream created. And that means that all the disease and starvation and war and world-ending horror he was staring down 600-odd years ago didn't. He was going to grit his teeth and live no matter what but the fact that the world made it here along with him? That humanity's still here? And managed to create antibiotics and planes and chimneys in the meantime? That's a goddamn miracle.)

And Dream is getting dragged along with Hob, at first reluctantly, but slowly falling for Hob's enthusiasm throughout the day/week/whatever. And this version of Hob is like. Outright flirting with him. He's outright flirting with a lot of people, fair, but Dream especially. And of course Dream's having a feeling about it, because of course the version of Hob who doesn't actually know him, doesn't know how cruel he was over the centuries, is the one who'd be interested in him.

The Manic Pixie Dream Medieval Peasant Tour of London ends up taking on a decidedly romantic note, after a few days. And one night, after an evening in a restaurant that Dream knows is one of Hob's favorites, where everyone around them was silently willing them to get a room because the tension between two people who are very carefully sitting on opposite sides of the table and not actually touching, just talking to each other, was far too palpable, Hob caves, and drags Dream into a kiss the second they get back to his flat.

It's a good kiss, and Dream lets himself enjoy it for a moment, because he'll never get to kiss Hob again so at least he can have the memory of this one. Then he gently breaks the kiss and tells Hob, equally gently, that they can't. That Hob doesn't remember the majority of their relationship, how cruel Dream has been to him. That his present self doesn't feel the same way.

And then Hob, who's been staring starry-eyed at Dream this whole conversation, says "I do, though."

And Dream is like "Yes I know you like me now with but the you with your memory intact does not."

And Hob's like "No, I do. I got my memory back right when I kissed you."

And there is, unfortunately, more confusion (Hob explaining that yes he has always liked Dream it's just that 600 years have made him minutely less reckless and also the current him remembers that they are friends and doesn't want to ruin that. But no, Dream is wrong on all counts, he remembers every moment of their friendship and he does like Dream the same way and holy shit??? There is a 'same way'???? Dream wanted to keep kissing him????)

And then they clear all that up and live happily ever after.

(Yes it was a True Love's Kiss thing)

#dreamling #hob gadling #my fic

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exhaslo · 3 months

Note

Hey there! I ended up reading and binging Puzzle Pieces and I can't regret it. It's so good! You write great!

So, funny fact, I initially read your name as Exhausto. Instead of, y'know, Exhaslo.

So, since you write for Miguel, I had an idea! (Hope you don't mind me rambling!)

Miguel seems like the type of person to exhaust himself easily, with all his work. So, what if there was a spider-person that could put him to sleep? A spider-person that helps Miguel sleep, and helps his touch starvation by cuddling with him. (This man would be touch-starved as heck, you know it.)

Just a fluffy little idea, since poor Miguel is probably always tired....

Thanks so much! Have a wonderful day! (Also, sorry if your requests aren't open, I didn't see anything about whether they were open or not. Take your time on this one, it'll be great no matter what!)

I love me some fluff. Gets me kicking and giggling in my seat. Thank you for enjoying my writing too!! Always brings a smile to my face when someone likes my work!

Sorry I got to this so late! I hope you enjoy this none the less!!

Warning: None just fluff

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What was sleep? The concept was truly unknown to Miguel, leader of the Spider Society. It was a joke, but the man solely thrived on work. Sure felt like it since no one had seen Miguel ever have fun, ever crack a joke, or hell, even joined anyone for a drink.

Like everyone else, you were curious to find a crack in the wall that man had built. Everyone was betting on who would get Miguel to finally relax. You joined in on the bet, but honestly had no real idea on what to do.

Making your way around the Spider Society, you hummed quietly as you roamed the empty halls. You forgot why the place was so empty today, but you were enjoying the peace and quiet.

Spotting Miguel in the distance, you smiled brightly and webbed your way over to him.

"Hey, Miguel!" You chirped, your hands resting against his shoulders for a moment, "Enjoying the quiet?"

"Yeah," Miguel whispered, glancing towards you, "It's...too quiet."

"Hehe, enjoy it while it lasts. Are you burying yourself in work?" You asked, nudging his shoulder slightly.

Miguel grunted in response, continuing his way over to the cafeteria. You decided to follow him, wondering how you could get him to ease up. As you followed Miguel, you noticed the bags under his eyes. The man was exhausted.

"Why don't you take a nap? I promise I won't tell," You said with a small chuckle.

Miguel scoffed as he grabbed himself an empanada. You pouted ever so slightly, feeling like this was beginning to be a lost cause. If no one else was able to succeed, why did you think you could? Taking a step back from Miguel, you watched as he left.

"Now it's even quieter." Miguel sighed, turning back to you. His gaze meeting yours, asking you to follow.

Your ears perked up, smiling brightly as you hurried to the grumpy Spider. You nudged his side once more, chuckling lowly as you chatted with Miguel on the way to his office. Even though you couldn't get him to smile or relax, you did enjoy his company.

---------

Miguel resisted a grunt as you touched him once more. It was so difficult for him to relax when you were around. Unlike the other Spiders, you were a very touchy and affectionate one. The worst part? You didn't even notice.

With every single touch you gave him, Miguel felt his tension die. His aches and stress just melted away. The more you touched him, the more Miguel wanted. Eventually, he tried to find ways to get near you for just a small nudge.

"Hey, Miguel!" You said with a bright smile, your hands pressing against his back.

Miguel thanked whatever god was listening for his mask. The gentle press of your fingers against his back was delicious. Your soft hands just gripping against his arm as you tried to get his attention. Miguel withheld his fangs, thinking of a way to keep your hands on him.

"I heard you had a big anomaly today! Think I can go on the next one?" You nearly begged, poking his chest.

"Sure," Miguel whispered. You titled your head,

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just tired." Miguel admitted, making his way to his office. You followed behind, humming lowly,

"Take a nap, I won't tell!" You chuckled lowly.

"Hn,"

Miguel grunted lowly to your offer. As you followed him into his office, Miguel finally removed his mask. He sighed heavily and plopped himself by his desk. You approached him, leaning down and grabbing his attention.

"You really need to rest, Miguel." You whispered, your tone full of concern, "You work so hard, even you must be tired."

Miguel had rested his head against the palm of his hand, just staring at you. He closed his eyes and took a deep breathe. How was it to have someone's presence be enough? You, alone, calmed Miguel down and he was desperate for your little touches.

"I close my eyes and someone will need something in five minutes," He huffed. You reached forward and fixed Miguel's hair,

"I can shoo them away."

Miguel inhaled deeply as he enjoyed your fingers against his hair. Your offer was tempting, but could he really take this break? Was it really okay for him to take your offer?

"An hour, that's all I'll ask for." Miguel caved.

He watched your smile as you quickly took a seat beside him. Confused, Miguel just observed you. Your wide glossy eyes met his as you patted your lap. A sudden shiver ran down Miguel's spine as he slowly leaned into you. He was hesitant, but finally rested his head against your lap.

Miguel closed his eyes, enjoying this moment. Your lap was comfortable. Biting his cheek as you stroked his hair, Miguel tried his best to withstand a groan. Why were you torturing him so much? Your caring personality and touchy nature was getting to him. You were going to make Miguel want more.

--------

You had to resist squealing as you sat there with Miguel resting against you. This was an accomplishment! Your cheeks were burning up as you stared down at Miguel. His peaceful expression as he slept was a sight.

You wanted to keep this moment to yourself.

Stroking your hands through his hair, you hummed quietly as Miguel fell asleep. This was something you wanted more to have. You wanted to have this peaceful moment with Miguel more often. He let you get away with this, could you do more?

As Miguel slept, you couldn't stop staring at him. The beating rate of your heart kept increasing as you thought of him. Lyla appeared every now and then, teasing the two of you. She complimented on your achievement, causing you to blush.

"Lyla!" You whispered, shooing the AI away.

Lyla just snickered before disappearing. After an hour, you slowly woke Miguel up. With a gentle shake, you smiled towards Miguel as he made eye contact with you. He grunted lowly, sitting up. You fixed his hair, chuckling towards his sleepy state.

"See? Wasn't that a good nap?"

"It was, thank you, (Y/N)." Miguel hummed, leaning into your touch, "If it's alright with you...I wouldn't mind doing this again,"

"Of course!"

-------

Miguel was getting greedy. The man was touch starved and craved every little thing you gave him. Those little hour naps started to come more and more. Miguel just wanted you by his side, easing his stress and pain. You were the light in his dark.

Little by little, Miguel kept asking more of you. it didn't help that you easily gave in to his desires. From a rest here, to a touch there, Miguel kept wanting more.

"Miguel! I finally got a stable job!" You cheered, swinging into his office with glee.

Miguel just smiled towards your cheerful behavior and motioned you over. You were giddy and ended up hugging Miguel tightly. Oh, these were the best. Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist, inhaling at your scent.

"I got a joooooob~" You laughed, squeezing Miguel more.

"Congrats, you deserve it."

Miguel didn't want to let you go. Slowly loosening his grip, Miguel just stared at you. You weren't his, not yet. Fixing your hair, Miguel resisted a chuckle as you kept laughing in joy. You looked up at Miguel and grabbed his hands,

"We should go celebrate! I'll crack open the best wine from the bar," You whispered. Miguel scoffed,

"I have some here,"

As you jumped for joy, Miguel pulled out a secret stash of drinks he kept in his office. You jumped on Miguel's back, cheering towards the party the two of you were going to have.

After a few drinks, you were cuddled against Miguel. Your arms were around his neck, chest against his head as you laughed and babbled nonsense. Miguel on the other hand was just sitting in comfort, enjoying the moment.

"Miggy, I got a job~ Hehe, I'm so happy~" You cooed, resting your head against his neck. Miguel groaned softly, his hands around your back,

"Good job, (Y/N)." He whispered.

Miguel was in heaven. Who would have thought that you were even more handsy when tipsy? Making sure that you didn't drink too much, Miguel decided to put his stash away. You let out a soft whine and tackled Miguel onto the floor.

"(Y/N), as much as I'm enjoying this, you must behave before I don't," He said with a soft groan. You nuzzled against Miguel, closing your eyes in the process,

"Then, I'll take a nap~ Don't tell~" You giggled. Miguel smiled softly,

"I won't."

At this rate, Miguel was going to keep asking you for more. His needs and greed kept growing for you. His wants and desires kept growing.

But you weren't complaining.

And he wasn't going to stop.

Not until the day he made you his.

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Hope you enjoyed! As I was writing this I had an idea for another short story, but that will come for another day! Hehe

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n #miguel x you

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apollodarling-writes · 4 months

Text

yan! reiner braun hcs

i can’t get enough of this man.

cws: yandere themes, slight worshipper themes, the two of you initially met as scouts, aot season 4 spoilers, spoilers in general, kidnapping, kinda all or nothing thinking, some pathetic reiner crumbs bc i love seeing him pathetic, can kinda be perceived as having some form of a personality disorder, forced starvation and dehydration, kinda dehumanization, slight housewife (gn though) vibes but he just wants you to be productive.

— yan! reiner braun who initially fell in love with you during your time in the scouts. he was absolutely enamored with you. you, with all your flaws and rough edges, have single-handedly made it infinitely harder for him to complete his mission.

— yan! reiner who loves when you tend to his wounds. it makes him feel more human, settling further into the delusion that he had always been a paradisian.

— yan! reiner who is constantly hovering around you after he’s come to terms with his feelings. he has to protect you… no, he needs to. no one can protect you but him.

— yan! reiner who ensures that you’re left with someone he knows will protect you when he has to carry out the phases of his mission before leaving to do so. reiner will also immediately look for you when he’s finished, checking you for injuries— big or small, he’ll patch them up with furrowed brows and a firm expression.

— yan! reiner who is a little creepy… and overbearing. when you’re training, he’s training you to protect yourself in a more efficient way. when you’re eating, he’s making sure you eat good, going as far as to give you a portion of his rations. when you have free time, he’s always itching to spend time with you. you almost never have a moment to yourself unless levi has you stationed elsewhere.

— yan! reiner who feels the need to protect you because he’s witness just how bad this world really is. he is the bad… but he can be everything you need if you’ll let him. he needs to be your everything.

— yan! reiner who values your opinion more than his own. he needs your validation and approval and kindness. he feels like a piece of shit already and he knows that you’ll hate him when he completes the final stage of his plan, but god does he need you. he needs you more than he needs air.

— yan! reiner who takes you back to his homeland. whether you’re screaming profanities at him, kicking or screaming, crying or begging for him to let you go… it’s futile in the end. he needs you. he can’t guarantee your protection if he’s away from you. he can’t live without you; you’re his rock.

— yan! reiner who pulls some strings to get you citizenship in marley. shortly after, the two of you are wed. naturally, his family and friends don’t attend since you’re a filthy island devil, but it’s enough for him to finally be marrying you.

— yan! reiner who will never touch you in any way you don’t want him to. he will always respect your bodily autonomy seeing as he already hates himself and views himself as a monster. he wouldn’t want to be even worse of a person to you. as for punishments… well, that’s a different ballgame.

— yan! reiner who, in a fit of anger, would scream at you. he’s done everything for you! he provides for you, he keeps you safe and well-fed, he has never touched you in any sexual manner (unless you’ve given him explicit consent)— he keeps you healthy and safe and you’ll never have to work again! but if you’ve been ungrateful and have been refusing his efforts, unfortunately he wont be able to be the man you want him to be.

— yan! reiner who corners you, roughly jerking you up by your hair and locking you in the basement. he’ll tell you that you can come out once you’ve learned your lesson. he’ll deliver the absolute bare minimum. a bucket to use the bathroom in, stale bread, and a glass of water every three days. how long you stay down there is up to you.

— yan! reiner who will slump against the basement door and sob. he feels awful, but he knows he can’t let you out. he can’t let you walk all over him. it’s even worse that he’s confirming your already terrible view on him.

— yan! reiner who grovels at your feet for forgiveness when you’re finally out of the basement. he’ll bathe you and murmur constant apologies, all while crying about how awful he feels about it. he’ll brush your hair out, wincing as you flinch, and turn around while you dress yourself.

— yan! reiner who will whip up a tasty meal for you, and if you’re unresponsive, feed you himself. he needs to make sure you’re getting the nutrients you need.

— yan! reiner who, if you lost a noticeable amount of weight while in the basement, gazes at you sadly. he’ll go out and purchase supplements for you to take while you recover and insist you stay in bed while he takes care of all the housework.

— yan! reiner who requires you to do things while he’s gone. he at least wants a warm meal when he comes home, and if the house isn’t in disarray it’s acceptable for him. he’ll help you with chores when he gets home— even if he’s exhausted and ready to collapse. he doesn’t want to place too much pressure on you, but he doesn’t want you succumbing to depression.

— yan! reiner who will press a kiss to your temple, forehead, or cheeks. if he’s feeling bold enough, he’ll press a chaste kiss to your lips.

— yan! reiner who will hold you sooo close to him when it’s time for bed. he needs to feel you against him because it helps him sleep. you bring him peace.

— yan! reiner who absolutely has to have physical contact with you when you accompany him to meet with the other warriors. he has to stake his claim. he has to make it known that you’re his, even if the silver band on your left hand speaks volumes.

— yan! reiner who absolutely adores you. he praises you every moment he can. he needs you to understand why he fell in love with you, how lovely you are, and how much he loves you.

— yan! reiner who just wants to love you and be loved in return. he feels like an asshole for ripping you away from everything you’ve ever known but he needs you.

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redd956 · 11 months

Text

Living Weapon + Military Whump Ideas

Living weapon is discarded after taking one to many blows in war

Soldier who fights alongside living weapon, can't stand watching them suffer either, even if it's in silence. A comrade in arms, is a comrade in arms.

Enemy commander is a living weapon, and they only break when they begin to realize that they're losing, because they can't imagine what's going to happen to them

Ally thinks highly of their living weapon colleagues, their nation, and their military. They did so until they accidentally witnessed a living weapon being punished for something incredibly minor.

Civilian doesn't understand how the soldiers are living weapons, and bestows tons of kindness and humanity to an injured one that crosses their path.

Enemy and Ally living weapon snap, realizing that together there's more of them, than there are of the people who made them.

Enemy and Ally living weapon decide this life ain't worth it, and run off together.

Medic dives in to rescue a living weapon, after finishing up with the normal set of soldiers. The epiphany of touch starvation kicks in for the living weapon, when they feel the medic's hands acting as gently and carefully as possible.

Groups of soldiers are paired up with one living weapon. At first the soldiers despised this set up, and the seemingly lifeless living weapons, until they begun to realize how great they were protectors, and that they seem to bestow humanity in their own...unique ways.

Enemy living weapon plagues a crew of soldiers for a long time. When they finally defeat it, they're all incredibly shocked at the pure despair coming from it, as it believes worse is to come of it for failing it's task.

Very skilled soldiers are "promoted" into living weapons

Soldier needs patching up. They just so happen to hate their living weapon comrades, and are even more distraught now when their local living weapon unveils their medical training for this exact situation.

Deserting soldier gets chased down by one of their living weapons.

#living weapon trope #living weapon whumpee #military whump #whump prompts #whump prompt list #military whump prompts #military whump prompt #military whump prompt list #living weapon #whump #whump ideas #whump tropes

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veryace-ficrecs · 2 months

Text

Tim Joins the BatFam Early Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

the butler's neighbor by deargalileo - Rated G

it starts with a baseball, thrown onto the wayne's property. it's alfred's job to deal with such happenings, of course. but over tea and galas, it turns into so much more.

after all, why should bruce be the only one allowed to adopt any child that he finds?

the capillaries in my eyes are bursting by Scarlet_Ribbons - Rated T

Bruce grunts, standing up. “Jenkins said the same. What about what you weren’t told?” And without dissembling, Jason says, “I think they fucked that kid up, B.” [Jack and Janet die. As things get weirder and weirder, it feels like Tim might be at the center of the unfolding conspiracy.]

An (almost) Foolproof Lie by HiddenDreamer67 - Rated T

“No, they don’t leave me totally alone.” Tim hurriedly explained. “My neighbor Bruce Wayne looks after me.” Batman stared at him for a long while. “Bruce Wayne.” He parroted slowly. (A young Tim Drake gets kidnapped by Falcone. When Batman rescues him, Tim tells Batman that Bruce Wayne is his temporary guardian. Oddly enough, Batman isn’t fooled by this perfect cover story.)

Anton Syndrome by Anonymous - Rated M

Tim's parents have been away for six months and counting—the longest he's ever been left alone at one time—and it's starting to have some unpleasant side effects. Luckily, he has a solution. OR, the one where Tim attempts prostitution to cure his touch starvation. His plan goes wrong pretty much from step one, but it all works out for the better.

I'll Stand By You by TaraLaurel - Rated T

"I'm not going to ask you why you're out here, kid," Jason nods. "That's your business and you don't know me or Dick to trust us." Not true. Tim trusts Jason Todd and Dick Grayson with his life. Just not with, the other stuff. "But," Jason continues, "if you want to tell me what got you here, or you just want to talk about anything, you can, with me. Dick too. He's an annoying ray of sunshine that won't ever shut up most of the time, but he is actually a good listener. I'd know." OR When Tim's parents find out Tim's secret, they kick him out. Now, on Thanksgiving, Tim is living on the streets and is thankful for the two strangers currently saving him from getting his face pounded into the pavement. Wait...those aren't strangers...

Just a Typical Monday Morning by Writer_loves_tropes - Rated T

There are three things in life that Timothy Drake knows for sure. One, Tim is the greatest retro Guitar Hero player in the world (even if the wonderful people at the Guinness Book of World Records won’t rightfully acknowledge this fact). Two, Tim is allergic to walnuts. He’s convinced his parents that he’s allergic to spinach too because he hates it. He’s pretty sure when his parents find out, they’re going to make him eat spinach casserole for dinner for a whole week as punishment. And the third thing Tim knows for sure? He’s sure that on this typical Monday morning, the entire Gotham High School thinks Timothy Jackson Drake is Robin, Batman’s vigilante sidekick. A random locker check and the real Robin stashing his suit in Tim’s locker is all it took to turn Tim’s typical Monday morning into one of the craziest Mondays of his life.

Brother Wanted by Vamillepudding - Rated G

Well-behaved boy (10) is looking for big brother (11-15). Must meet up with me three times a week, for at least two hours each. Overall duties include helping me with homework, playing videogames with me, and showing me how to play catch. 10$ per hour. Tim, lonely and in desperate need of company, decides that if his parents are not going to give him a sibling, he's going to hire one instead. Luckily, Jason Todd-Wayne shows up in the nick of time.

Holy security breach, Batman! by destiny919 - Rated G

Janet finally shoos him away towards the hors d'oeuvres or drinks table with the tacit understanding that she doesn't want to see him again until the end of the gala. And probably not even then, it wouldn't be the first time the Drakes forgot to take him home with them and Tim had to discreetly call an Uber before the host noticed and made Tim embarrass his parents. For this gala, however, he almost hopes they forget him again, because tonight Tim has a plan. They're at Wayne Manor, and Tim is going to find the Batcave.

wrong number by adelfie - Rated G

There’s a few rings, then the phone picks up. “Wayne Residence.” That’s funny, Tim thinks, Mrs. Mac doesn’t sound like herself. -- On a hot July evening while home alone, eight-year-old Tim gets a fever. He means to ask Mrs. Mac for help — but ends up accidentally calling Alfred Pennyworth. Somehow, even in sickness, he wins all the hearts of the Wayne family in one fell swoop.

assaulting existence with improbability by destiny919 - Rated T

"Where's Batman?" the kid demands. "We need to show him." Jason decides to go with the easy question. "Show him what?" The kid gives him an incredulous look. "Proof you didn't kill Garzonas, what else?"

5 Times Tim Spends the Night at Wayne Manor + 1 Time He Comes Home by motleyfam - Rated T

Tim is good at galas.

No, scratch that—Tim is great at galas. He’s been attending them ever since the age of three, when his parents first stuffed him into his little Gymboree tuxedo and gave him a stern lecture about ‘sitting quietly’ and ‘speaking when spoken to.’ He knows all the rules: what to wear, how to stand, when to smile, what to say, what not to say. He knows how to come across as polite and intelligent and charming, and on absolutely any other day, he would be rocking this.

#veryace recs #batman #batman fic recs #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #robin #red robin #ao3 fic recs #fanfic recs #ao3

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lavandulawrites · 2 months

Note

hii, can you do A,I,N and Z with akutagawa? If you’re able to, ty?

Yandere Alphabet A, I, N and Z with Akutagawa

Akutagawa is such an interesting character. (Yandere alphabet request here)

Masterlist

Warnings: isolation and starvation

Word count: 453

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Affection and love is something completely new to Akutagawa. He will be really stoic, but it’s clear as day when you look into his eyes that he is absolutely head over heels in love with you. He’s touches are feather light and shy at first. He is afraid of hurting his sweetheart. After some time his touches are more constant and possessive. He will give you antiques and spend time with you (you can’t help, but get goosebumps from the way he is staring you down). He will gladly watch a movie after a long day with you, though it’s more him staring you down with his obsessive gaze.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Akutagawa isn’t really sure of want he wants for the future. Love is completely foreign to him, but he definitely wants you to love him back. After some years he would like to marry you. He isn’t too keen on having children, since he is already worried about you and his job so he doesn’t wants more to add to his worries.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He will withhold your food for some days (maximum three days if you have been really bad). He believes fear is the greatest motivator (he was motivated by fear in all his youth). He won’t ever physical harm you, at least that’s what he claims. He will not let you read any books or consume any type of media if he means you have been acting up. If he finds you attempting to climb out of the window, he will with a stone cold expression drag you by your arm to the bedroom and look the door. He will bind you with a chain to the bed leg and only let you out to use the restroom. If he deems it necessary, he might lift you up with Rashomon and throw you against the wall. Enough to scare you, but not enough to harm you.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Akutagawa would break you, but not on purpose. He had entertained the thought from time to time when he first got to know you. He liked the idea of you being docile instead of you kicking and screaming, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t like your strong personality. When he broke you, it was a mere accident. He didn’t mean to and he regretted keeping you isolated for so long. He will do anything in his power to undo his damage. He won’t rest before you are as you were before.

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lostinforestbound · 2 months

Text

This is an exploration of Rolan, Cal, and Lia 's past together and how they met. I have read plenty of headcannons and fics that have already explored this topic (the ones I've read are so creative!) and I wanted to do my own little spin on it!

Cal & Lia & Rolan

Unlovable

An unwanted, despised child wanders Elturel one of the worst storms the city has ever seen, looking for scraps to survive the night.

Word Count: 3.1k (AO3)

Relevant Tags: Child Abuse (Only shown in the beginning), Trauma Responses, Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending

A pitiful tiefling child is dragged by his hair, wailing as a woman kicks the front doors of the orphanage open. She tosses the young boy out into the middle of the storm, and he falls into a large, muddy puddle in the streets of Elturel. The rain hits his back harshly as he struggles to get up on his hands and knees.

“Don’t you ever come back to this place.” He hears the woman spit, and he tearfully looks up at her with golden eyes from his place at the bottom of the stairs. “This is no place for you, devil spawn. When you came to us originally, I bit my tongue in the name of our God; I thought we could shape you into something instead of what you are. Now you bite the hand that feeds you. A conniving, thieving, spoiled brat is what you are!”

She reaches for the handles on the doors, hatred in her eyes as she stares him down. “Leave, we will be more at peace without you to burden us.”

He weeps as the doors slam, wanting to plead with her; he didn’t steal anything, he never touched anything he wasn’t supposed to, and he was framed by an older child that resided further down the hall, but his voice has never worked ever since he was left here. The caretakers tried everything to make him speak; prayers, beatings, and starvation were all they resorted to, but none of those worked. It only made him silent. Even with how cruelly he was treated, he crawls up the stairs, trying not to slip on the wet stone, and frantically knocks on the doors.

His cries are left unheard or willfully ignored.

Body shaking violently with his sobs, the cold sinks deep in his bones as the rain mixes with the tears running down his face. He’s resorted to scratching at the wooden doors with his nails, but they’ve been blunted by the worshipers here. Cut down until they bled so they looked more humanoid.

Less devilish.

Please let him stay.

He yells out another cry when a loud clap of thunder hits, covering his sensitive ears from the sound. It hurts so much, the little ice needles called raindrops piercing his skin repeatedly without mercy.

To the happiness of those inside the orphanage and temple, he finally runs away.

No one would give him a second glance, and he never felt so isolated.

Pathetic.

Unwanted.

Abandoned.

His legs shake with every step after he stops running, whether from the cold or the terror that sunk into his bones. He’s directionless, not recognizing the street he's on and unsure how long he ran for. What did he do wrong? Should he have fought the caretakers less? Should he have gotten along with the other children more? Should he have been better behaved?

Is there something wrong with him?

As more lightning strikes, he picks up his pace again. A couple of small houses still have candle lights burning in their interiors, but he’s too fearful to go knocking. Who would want an orphan in their home? A tiefling orphan, no less? And on top of that, one that’s too scared to talk? Would they throw him out again?

He feels his stomach is being clawed at, hunger overcoming his senses. They were already punishing him for insolence by not feeding him, but thinking he stole something from the altar was the final straw in the haystack. He did not think caretakers could look at him so disgustingly.

Waterlogged by the rain, he finds a small house with their candles still lit, trailing over to the trash they left. It’s by the front door, the worst place for him to hide, but if he doesn't eat something soon he might collapse here.

He sneakily opens the wicker basket and looks inside, trying to find scraps. A loose crust of bread, old meat, bad fruit, anything he could find sustenance in. Anything that can tie him over for the night.

But there is nothing. Only broken glass from what looks to be a shattered plate, stray strings of yarn, and old needles that have long rusted.

His eyes start stinging again, knowing that luck will never be on his side. It’s the only trash he sees out here in this street, everywhere else is now too dense to peek through. He doesn’t even hear the door open, he only feels the waft of warmth from the inside-

The door is open.

He trembles again, not just from the cold, but dread. He can’t will himself to run away. Maybe he’ll be shown some mercy if he gets on his knees to beg, wordlessly hoping the punishment wouldn't hurt him too badly.

“Hello?” A feminine voice calls out cautiously, opening the door fully as the light hits his skin.

He quickly looks up at the figure, petrified.

She’s beautiful. The light gives him a better view of her orange skin and darker orange eyes. She’s wearing a white night dress, loose fitting with frills at the end of the sleeves. Her short black hair is a mess as if she got out of bed rapidly.

A Tiefling, most importantly.

He stares at her in a childlike wonder, surprised by the warmth he feels just by seeing her soft, sleepy eyes.

“Oh my goodness, you poor thing. Come in, now.” She states, gently but urgently pulling him inside.

Tugging him along to the interior of the small home, the tiefling woman sits him down in an old chair and puts a heavy blanket over his shoulders. “Sit tight- Cal, Lia, what have I said about staring?”

“It’s very rude…”

“Very good Cal.” She says softly, mirth and honey in her voice.

He didn’t even notice that there were other people around. They sounded young, like some of the other kids in the home. Their voice is sweet, the one that spoke. Innocent.

Quiet steps quickly approaching, she comes back with a towel, kneeling in front of him and carefully wiping his face. He leans into the towel's softness, enjoying the texture and lightly starting to purr. “Gods above, what happened to you sweetheart?” She asks as she takes one of his hands, looking down at his blunted nails in horror.

Opening his mouth, he tries to speak, but nothing comes out. What would he even say? His teeth chatter violently, threatening to crack the incisors that adorn his mouth.

“You’re freezing. Cal, Lia, please find some of the old clothes in the closet. He’s soaked to the bone and we need to get him dry.”

He hears the tinier tieflings run off somewhere, the woman carefully pulling him up and leading him into a bedroom. It’s small but comfortable. The orphanage was cramped and he had to share a bunk bed. He always took the top one, since it would be easier to hide himself when he was higher up. When he was out of sight, he was out of mind.

The other children arrive with a clothing pile, and while he can’t look them in the eye, he sees the amount of clothes they bring as they threaten to fall onto the floor.

That makes the woman giggle, a sweet sound that relaxes him even while he shivers. “Thank you. Now, sweetheart-“ She starts, gently tilting the boy’s chin to face her. “Do you have a name?”

He glances at her, dumbfounded. Yes, he does have a name, but it feels as though his throat is closing.

She gives him a sad smile, moving her hand away. “How about you change into some dry clothes? Come out whenever you’re ready.”

Getting up, she leads the other two children back out the door with hands on their backs.

”Mom, why won’t he talk?” The taller of the little ones question.

“Hush, Lia.” She whispers, closing the door behind her after they leave.

Silently looking around the room, he spots a portrait hanging high on the opposite end of the bed, easy to see even while laying down. It’s the woman, but she looks much younger, and there’s a man next to her. Red of skin with similar black horns, but they were cuffed in some kind of jewelry. Ceremonial, perhaps? They seem so sweet, holding each other’s hands like it was their whole world.

They’re in love. He hasn't seen the man around, though.

He snaps out of his trance, starting to peel off his wet clothes. The shirt snags on his horns, and it rips the side open while trying to yank it off.

Damn it all, the only shirt that he owned is now ruined. How could he fix this? The caretakers never taught him how to sew like the other children. They didn't let him participate at all, usually. It was too delicate, they said; his claws would tear the cloth and he would ruin it, like how he ruins everything else.

He ignores the tears stinging the corners of his eyes, focusing on putting on the new clothes. They’re big on him, clearly meant for an adult, but it’s dry. Kicking off his shoes mostly in frustration, he now looks at the door that leads back out.

Does he leave now? Is he allowed to?

Feet tiptoeing to the door, a shaky hand reaches out for the handle and opens it. He winces when the hinges creak so loudly, and he starts to shake again. Should he hide under the bed? Will they be angry about the noise?

No one seems to come after a few minutes, but he thinks that might be worse. Maybe they’re waiting for him to show his pathetic face.

But he smells something wonderful coming from what he thinks is the kitchen.

And gods, he’s so hungry.

He makes himself walk over to the area, the warmth of the room and the smell of chicken overwhelming his senses. The other children are sitting at the small table, waiting patiently with empty bowls as the woman, their mother, stirs her pot.

Her ear twitches, and she looks over with another soft smile. “Ah, there you are. Please sit, I’ll get you a bowl once this is ready.”

Wordlessly, he trails over to sit down on one of the available chairs, wrapping his own tail around himself. He doesn’t want it to get stepped on like it did in the orphanage.

”So, why were you out in the rain??” The girl asks suddenly, startling him. “It’s cold! And I heard that the storm was getting very dangerous.”

She looks like the man in the portrait, he notices. Red skin, longer black horns. She is staring at him expectantly, but he’s very distracted by the decor of the house. It’s colorful compared to the orphanage, with pots of flowers settled on tables including the one they’re sitting at. There are loose pieces of fabric, with a wayward needle and thread fastened in between so it wouldn’t disappear.

”Hello???” She calls to him.

”Lia.” The woman warns, turning her head and giving the child a stern look.

”But mom-“

”If he doesn’t want to speak, we will not force him. Leave him be.”

Lia pouts, puffing her cheeks slightly but doesn’t speak to him again.

He’s never been defended like that, before.

The fire stops suddenly, and their mother brings out a larger spoon. “Come here Cal, you first.”

Cal excitedly hops out of his chair with his bowl, tail swishing behind him rapidly as he trots over. Lia does the same after him, happily taking their bowls back to the table once they’re filled up. They take no time at all to start eating, even with how hot the soup is.

The woman sets a bigger bowl in front of him, filled with the same thing. “Eat as much as you’d like. There’s plenty.”

He looks at the contents, seeing the steam rise up and disappear in the air. It’s hot against his face, and he sees all the ingredients through the thick broth. Chicken, peppers, onions, and probably some spices too.

He shouldn’t be allowed to eat, he’s done nothing to help in the kitchen.

The other two finish way before he ever could, but he didn’t even touch the food. Thankfully, they don’t comment and run off to go play in another room.

He doesn’t hear their mother approach, so he jolts when he sees her kneeling beside his chair. “Are you alright, sweet pea?”

Fear washes over him fairly quickly, thinking she’s angry. He can’t get his tongue to work, even now. He wants to apologize for being rude, for not eating, for daring to enter this home, for everything.

For existing.

She gently cups his face, a look of concern as she searches for something in his expression. “Honey, you’re not in trouble. Not at all. I want to make sure you’re okay; please, eat.”

No one has ever been this kind before. No one has ever looked at him so lovingly.

Mom.

He starts to weep, ears twitching down and tail falling limp as his vision goes blurry. He can’t see her expression anymore through the tears he’s been keeping in ever since dinner started. That’s when she gathers him up into her arms, holding him as he gets on the floor with her.

She coos at him and lets him cry in her arms, holding him closer to her chest. “Shh, cry all you need. You’re okay.”

His sobbing grows louder and more desperate, as if he was grief-stricken. He cries and cries, but that never deters her one bit. She gently rocks with him, hand scratching at his scalp as she whispers comforting words.

When he finally calms, she takes out a handkerchief and wipes his face clean from the tears and snot. “Do you think you can eat, honey?”

He weakly nods, sniffling.

She easily lifts him up back onto the chair, pushing the bowl closer to him, and he finally takes a spoonful of soup into his mouth. He forgot how starved he was and ate up eagerly. It takes another two bowls before he’s satisfied.

He gets led back to the bedroom he was originally in, and she has him sit on the bed. “Get some sleep, okay? Don’t worry about anything, I want you to rest.”

He carefully lays down on the bed, doing what he’s told. The mattress is large and surprisingly soft, so he easily gets under the blankets. He wished the blanket was heavier, but he knows not to ask for anything.

The woman smooths his hair back with a smile. “If you ever need anything, I’m here. Feel free to come get me or call out when you want to talk, okay?”

He watches her leave the room afterward, exhaustion setting deep into his bones. Eyes growing heavy, he finally decides he wants to rest.

Hot. He’s burning. His skin is overly sensitive, and the drag of fabric along his skin is borderline painful. He tries to wake up, but can’t force his eyes open.

A muffled voice reaches his ears before he can panic. “You have a fever, dear. I will take care of you. And sweethearts, stay away from him. I don’t want you getting sick.”

”Yes, Mama.”

He’s in and out of consciousness constantly; sometimes hearing muffled voices, sometimes falling into a dreamless, uncomfortable sleep.

Sometimes he cries when woken up, part of him hoping he never wakes at all. But she wants him to drink water, so he will obediently. Maybe then, she’ll let him stay here. He’ll be good.

He promises to be good.

Please let him stay.

When he feels himself start to get better, he finds himself gathered in her arms as she gently hums a tune for him. He chastises himself internally when he feels the sting of tears in his eyes; is he so pathetic that he would cry over being comforted? Being loved so dearly?

“Darling, I can’t let you go back out into the storm. It’s too dangerous. Stay here.” She murmurs, thumbing his bony shoulder. “I’ll keep you well fed. I have more than enough to feed another mouth.”

He nods a little too frantically, hand crumpling the sleeve of her dress.

“Good. Let me go get something for you, okay?”

He reluctantly lets her go and patiently waits as she walks away. The rain hasn’t let up at all, still beating on the windows harshly as the cold tries to seep into the room.

The floorboards creak with her return, holding a blue shirt and brown trousers. “I made you some clothes. I noticed you only had one pair with you, so I made you another.”

She puts it in his hands as he looks it over, and he runs his fingers over the material.

It’s soft. Softer than anything he was ever given.

”Try it on whenever you’d like. Would you like some lunch? I’m making some steak and eggs.”

He nods a little, and she smiles as she leads him to the kitchen once again. Cal and Lia are already there, and super excited about his presence.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better! Did you like the blanket? It was one of my favorites when I was small!” Lia exclaims happily.

She doesn’t seem deterred at all by his lack of response.

“It’s the best one!”

“I like that one too. Is it still soft?” Cal asks, looking up at him. When he nods, Cal smiles more, and he idly notices the small boy is missing a missing tooth.

”Settle down children, the steaks are almost ready. Ah, how do you like your eggs darling?”

He stares at her with a confused look, and she gives a small frown as she tries to think of an example that he would understand.

“Me and Cal like ours scrambled! Mom, maybe he’ll like scrambled??”

“That’s the safe option, I suppose,” She giggles, going to a different pan where the eggs are being cooked. “I enjoy sunny side up. It's where you only cook the underside and leave the yolk on top untouched.”

He remembers a visual he saw in a picture book. Is that sunny side up?

”Ah, I suppose I should ask this question. What would you like to be called for now? Sweetheart? Darling?” She asks, looking back at him.

These nicknames are something he’s not used to. The people who ran that hellhole he stayed in usually called him ‘boy’ with such disdain he could crumble onto the floor. They stopped at nothing to make sure he felt like disappearing. That he was a disappointment to them; but that place was all he had.

Maybe this place is different, and he can be cherished. This woman never once made him feel like he was a burden, even when he thought himself to be.

Maybe he can be safe here.

Maybe he can be loved.

“Rolan.” He finally responds to her.

She looks at him with wide eyes before the brightest smile appears on her face, warm as the sunrise.

Lia squeals as she quickly stands on her chair. “Mom! He talked!”

#rolan #bg3 rolan #bg3 fanfic #Forest-Writes #bg3 cal #bg3 lia #angst #angst with a happy ending #bg3

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