#and then as the cage closes...the flinch...the hyperventilation...

[whumpback-wail]

02 - What’s Real?

Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader) - TW/CW in masterlist

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She could hear the commotion from all the way in her cell. (y/n) stirred from inside the cage she was kept in, too weak to move. Seems like another dream, it's always the same one lately, as if her subconscious still kept the hope alive when her conscious mind gave up a long time ago.

(y/n) cracked her heavy eyelids open, her eyes adjusting to the darkness rather quickly, considering the amount of time she had spent there. She no longer felt cold, her shivering had stopped a long time ago.

Wriothesley and his men would come through the door any moment now, and would pick her up and get her out of there, and she would wake up right as the sunlight hit her skin. She was all too familiar with the dream that had repeatedly occurred, bringing her hopes up only to shatter again when her eyes opened and she was still in the darkness of her cell-

Footsteps.

The door slammed open, making (y/n) flinch, her heart sank when she noticed that the silhouette at the door seemed to have a lab coat on.

Not a dream, get up.

(y/n) could feel herself start to hyperventilate, tears forming. What is he going to do now? She has nothing left, she was declared a failure already and left for dead. Wasn’t the beating last night enough?

No more, please-

The lab coat-clad figure stopped in front of her and nudged her with his foot, sending jolts of pain all over her body. “I’m afraid our time together must come to an end.” Arderne looked down at her and knelt, brushing hair away from her face, making her flinch in disgust.

“I would escape myself and let you go or die alone, whatever, but you know too much, and I'm not risking it.”

(y/n) felt him put his hand over her nose and mouth, squeezing them both shut. Her eyes widened, her air supply was cut off. Hwr body seemed to move on its own, trying to tear his hands away, to claw his face, but she was too weak. It had been so long since they last fed her..

The darkness at the corners of her eyes started closing in and soon everything was black.

“Goodbye 1102” was the last thing she heard.

(y/n) felt like she was drifting through the darkness, the pains and aches in her body numbed by the cold. At least she wasn’t in pain. In moments like these during her captivity were when her mind drifts. Coming back to the memories of her fiancé, the bright happy days felt so far out of reach, almost like a fabricated memory. Pain has been her reality for a while, she didn’t know how much longer she could endure it.

The darkness stretched before her as she continued to sink through its comforts. She could vaguely hear someone talking, a deep voice, slurred and muddled. She didn’t want to wake up, not anymore. If this is it then she wanted to go while it’s peaceful.

Suddenly a sharp pain burst from her chest, startling her. Involuntarily she could feel herself being tugged back to reality, and in her dazed state, she felt herself cough hard.

What’s going on? I can’t do this anymore, it hurts. Please, make it stop-

In her panicked haze, (y/n) almost missed the feeling of arms around her, and a very strong chest.

No… No no no no they sent someone this strong, how am i supposed to take another beating? I can’t-

I can’t.

I can’t.

I can’t.

Please no more.

She tried in vain to push and get away from him, but he held her firmly and effortlessly.

(y/n) felt herself losing consciousness again, her whole body felt like jelly.

Please… Just let me die.

• • •

She was back again in the comfort of the dark.

(y/n) wondered if she’s actually dead now. Perhaps her body couldn’t take it anymore? Eitherway, she no longer felt pain, so that’s a plus.

Her thoughts drift to Wriothesley, as it always does whenever she gets a moment of respite. She remembered the way his canines flash every time he gave her the grin he only reserved for her. How is he? Will I ever see him again?

The regret felt like broken glass was coursing through her veins. (y/n) wished she could cry, but her heart felt numb, as if devoid of emotions.

I want to see him.

I just need to see him one last time.

I need to say my goodbyes and tell him it’s okay to move on.

I need to tell him I love him, and that I'm sorry.

With every thought, she felt the pain intensify, more and more until she felt the familiar tugging, as if her body was pulling her back to the surface of consciousness. And the closer she came to the surface.

It hurts.

Her eyes shot open.

The first thing that greeted her once her eyes focused was the ceiling. The darkness of the room indicated that the lights were off, with the soft light coming from the small crack underneath a door providing minimal light for her to see. Panic rose inside her as her ears picked up the beeping noises coming from her right, it seemed to increase in frequency as her heart started racing faster. A hospital room. Arderne.

What made him decide to take her back? She thought she was labelled a failed subject already?

Trying not to panic, (y/n) winced as she sat up slowly, and looked around the room. She could make out a figure, a mountain of a person, bundled up under blankets. The person seemed fast asleep on the couch at the corner of the room.

She tried to control her breathing, get her heart rate down.

(y/n) knew she would be punished if she woke this person up, and she didn’t want to take another beating, not with this person, they look so big. Memories of her beating flashed behind her eyes.

A flurry of fists.

Hard boots.

In her panic, she did not notice the figure starting to stir.

Wriothesley blinked, and shot up to his feet the moment he noticed her heart monitor going wild.

“(y/n), you’re awake?” he rushed to her side.

But that only seemed to make her panic more, she’s hyperventilating at this point, the heart monitor beeps kept increasing in frequency.

“I-I’m sorry.” (y/n) flinched away from him, “I didn’t mean to wake you, please. I’m sorry.”

“What- (y/n), it’s me, you’re safe now-” he raised his hand to soothe her, but the sudden motion seemed to set her off. She cried out and raised her arm to shield herself. The heart monitor started ringing. Alerting the medical staff outside.

“Please don’t hurt me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

Wriothesley wanted to murder the people who did this.

"(y/n), sshhh, listen to my voice, you're safe now. It's me, Wriothesley. Whatever you think you're seeing is not real-"

Right then the room door opened and medical staff rushed in with a crash cart. With a quick glance around the room assessing the situation, the nurse immediately knew what was going on.

“Sir, I need you to step back. We’ll help.” She said as she and several more nurses went closer to the bed to sedate (y/n).

“I’m sorry!” (y/n) was back in the facility again. The experiment chambers, the injections. The pain

So much pain.

She can’t take that again. Not again.

Nurses held down her arms and legs as (y/n) started to thrash and cry. No more. Please.

Wriothesley could only watch, helpless, as he sank back to the couch. He watched (y/n)’s thrashing slowly stop, and her heart rate going down as her eyes slowly flutter shut. Her mouth kept repeating apologies and pleas to not hurt her.

He couldn’t do anything.

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(˶╥︿╥)ﾉ ……(ó﹏ò｡)

A/N:

And that concludes chapter 2! What do you think of the story so far?

Why do I enjoy the emotional anguish hnghh. I wanna comfort Wrio so bad but seeing him go through all the angst is... satisfying? Its weird. Anw new chapter coming in a week-ish, and you'll see a but more of what (y/n) went through during her captivity.

Until then, I'm trying to focus on finding (art) commission clients, November has been like a dry river. I hope I find clients soon :")

Oh and Arderne is an NPC in Meropide, a doctor, I just uhh… borrowed his character to be the villain (sorry Arderne)

Taglist (I couldn't tag some of you (red colour), how do I solve this?): @almosteggs @quuela @tempest1art @yamanaka13-blog @arseneumbra @kimmeaahh @cottonfluffs @randomidk-123 @applejayee @keigo-hawks-takami-simp @mechanicalbeat1 @aribae14 @bforbiblio

#wriothesley x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact angst #whump #anime whump #whump community #whump writing #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader angst #genshin impact fanfic #wriothesley angst

[hiskillingjar]

rosemary's baby

Relationship(s): Ren Hana/Reader, Fox/Reader Rating: Explicit Contains: Extremely Dubious Consent, Sexual Coercion, Brain Break, Breeding, Impregnation, Bondage, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat Length: 3000+ words

Summary: Fox always wanted a baby of his own. You should be so lucky to be the one to give it to him.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50675575

"Such...perfect...breeding material."

Your eyes shot wide open and terrified at the dark intention behind his words, pulling tightly at the thick bondage that was keeping you belted and spread out on his bed (was it even his? Had you been given the luxury of seeing his real self yet?), like a medical specimen pinned down and ready for examination, for dissection. 

Your heart hammered desperately fast underneath your rib cage as he paced around the bed, his tail wagging idly behind him, a dreadfully amused look in his golden eyes.

"Oh god," You murmured softly, looking back towards the ceiling and doing your best to steady your breathing, lest you hyperventilate and send yourself into a panic attack.

"I know, pet, I know." He chuckled, a little breathlessly, his voice dripping with a cruel kind of desire as he leaned down towards you, the soft wisps of his hair grazing your cheeks as he ran a claw down your trembling body, assessing you like breeding stock . "But I know what you crave. I know what your body wants, even more than you do. And I know what I crave as well..." He said, then kneeling on the bed and moving close to you, the claws replaced by the soft pads of his fingers. He hadn’t worked a day in his life, not properly. "Such gorgeous breeding stock…and you're so fertile right now. I can smell it."

"Mmph..." You whimpered helplessly, your expression tight and your face hot as you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to squirm underneath him a little more, trying to get away from all of this.

You were more scared of this than anything else he had done to you, more than the filming room, more than the threats of auction, anything. He had invaded you countlessly before this, of course, but never to such a degree that he would take away every ounce of bodily autonomy that you had, reduce you down to an object to be used for something so invasive. 

You could feel your sense of humanity dilapidating with every second as he tilted his head, still assessing you with a hungry look on his smiling face.

"Your body is perfect for the task. And yet, here I am," He didn’t even try to hold back a laugh as his touch trailed down your sternum and to your trembling belly, his expression lost in thought for a moment, like he was thinking, imagining what he could do to you. "Without a litter to call my own." His voice was soft for a moment then, considered. "Maybe I'll fill you up and get the job done right now."

Your eyes shot wide again as he placed a hand on your thigh and pinned it still, forcing your body open for him, the cool air on your hot cunt making you flinch again.

"No, nononono, please, don't," You babbled, your words pleading and desperate as your eyes began to well with tears, your face flushed and hot. “Fox, sir, please, I don’t want it, please please please, don’t-”

"Mmph, are you thinking those thoughts, my pet?" He whispered with a salacious grin, his tongue darting out to lick his teeth in a lustful leer as his eyes roamed over your face, taking in your tears, your desperation. It seemed that your pleading was just getting him all the more excited. "Are you already thinking about a litter of my puppies growing inside of you?"

You wanted to sob, you were so wound up and frightened of the idea, but you couldn’t deny that you were thinking about it quite intently, now that he was saying all of these awful things. Your face was flushed and your body invited him closer, however involuntarily you would have claimed it to be, as his touch trailed down to your inner thighs, feeling the smear of pre-cum against your skin.

"Isn't that what you want, my pet? Your body certainly wants it," He breathed out a sigh, his voice dripping with perverse lust, the grip on your other thigh tightening just a little further, his claws digging into the soft skin, marking you with bleeding red. "You're craving it, aren't you? Even if you protest otherwise." He whispered, bringing his face close to yours again, his nostrils flaring, scenting you. 

You whimpered again, jerking your head upwards, away from his invasive gaze, and biting your lip as he took a long inhale of your scent, sweat, tears, pre-cum pooling down your thighs at the sound of his threats, how fertile you already were. 

Could he even smell that? 

"A puppy of my very own. You could give that to me, pet. Isn’t that a wonderful thought? Aren’t you proud?" He breathed out an unsteady exhale, looking down at you with an expression of relentless hunger despite how frightened you were, despite how much you were trying to avoid his gaze. "Or perhaps two or three, filling your womb with my litter." He whispered, his mouth practically watering at the thought. "So many pretty, little puppies..."

“God,” You moaned helplessly, whimpering as your body squirmed and twisted even more. Your fluttering eyes went to the ceiling again as you pulled at the belts around your wrists, praying for a God who wouldn’t listen, your lips trembling and babbling prayers for somebody, anybody. “This isn’t a dream. This is happening, this is really happening…”

"Mmmph,” He ignored your pleas and moaned softly, pressing his face into your middle and straddling one of your spread legs, pressing his hips down against it, letting you feel just how excited this idea was already making him. "Such soft flesh, and those breasts…” He mumbled hotly into your skin, nipping and biting as he stared down at you like a man starved, trying to meet your eyes and show you just how much he wanted this. “So swollen and red and ready to feed my children."

You gasped, high and keening and desperate, as he dipped his head and tongued your nipple to emphasise his point further, as his hands went up and caressed your tummy, groping the soft flesh (imagining how it would look when you were carrying his young). 

You would have to get used to sharp teeth on your breasts though, if you were to carry his young, as they would surely have teeth and fangs like his...god, he even had you thinking about it. Little babies with fur and ears and sharp teeth, suckling at your breasts…it was the thing of horror stories, and yet, you felt your clit twinge at the idea.

"Your body was made for this," He breathed out raggedly against your breast, his voice dripping with lust and desire as one hand went down to your other thigh and pushed it upwards, spreading your legs, getting you ready for him to take as he pleased. "A body made for breeding, pet..." His other hand then went up to your breast and groped hard, threading a claw through the ring through your nipple as he nipped and sucked at the other, making you shriek. "All those lovely curves. Those full hips, those legs...those breasts made to be nursed by hungry, hungry pups." He whispered hotly, breathing against your ear as his hips continued to rut down erratically. "Imagine it. My puppies filling you, and…hah, and sating themselves by your flesh."

"Mph..." You moaned softly, your eyes fluttering as he pressed himself against you, his whispered words hot and breathy in your ear as he groped your thigh, your chest, rutting himself down against you so that you could feel just how hard he was.  

Would he let you play mother, you wondered? 

Would he let you leave the role of a pet, a barely living and breathing sex toy that he didn’t even have a name for, and actually be a person again? 

Maybe it would be worth the invasion, if he promised you that small mercy.

"Look at me. In my eyes.” He snarled then, the hand on your thigh reaching up and gripping your chin, pressing your head back against the pillows of the bed and staring down into your eyes, his own almost feral with desire. “You could be a perfect little breeding doll, for me and me alone. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want to serve me?"

You tried to pull back as his grip on your chin tightened a little more, his claws digging into your soft cheeks and piercing your skin, making you look up into the mad glint of his eyes, his tongue licking his jaws again indulgently. 

He really meant every word of this. 

He was serious.

If there was a God, they weren’t going to save you. Not from this. 

Maybe a part of you was relieved by that, that you had no chance of being saved from this life that Fox had been so generous to give you. 

A small part that was growing with every day.

"And I'll never sell you either," He then shook his head with a little smile, an expression you hadn’t seen on his face before, that gave away a boyish innocence that you didn’t expect to ever see from Fox. "You'll belong to me, forever, I can promise you that mercy, pet. You’ll give me as many puppies as I want, and I’ll keep you, forever and ever, and make you mine…”

You whimpered helplessly, your wide eyes watering as you took in an unsteady breath, before you were jerked out of the quasi-trance that he had put you under, as he shifted to kneel between your spread thighs, and reached down to unzip his suit trousers.

"NGH!" 

You grunted loudly as you were suddenly, without warning, stuffed full with his hard cock, sliding inside of you with barely any effort you were that wet, your eyes squeezing shut out of impulse as your body grew tight and tense, your muscles straining against the belts that bolted you to the bed. 

You could already feel the base of his knot swelling as he rutted his hips down against yours, your body moving in time with him. The sensation by itself wasn't wholly overwhelming, you had taken him plenty of times and in much worse scenarios, but...that combined with the ideas he'd put in your head throughout all of this was making you cry out and whimper.

"Imagine how lovely you’ll be, nursing our babies. Those little sweet little puppies that came from you," His voice was a ragged whisper in your ear, looking you over as he thrust his cock deep inside you, in and out, a relentless machine working hard for what he wanted. "Feeding them from your body, taking care of them, loving them...do you...do you think you could do it?" He then purred, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he brought a hand down to cup your breast again, toying with the swelled nipple as a means to tease, not to torture. “Would you do it for me, baby?”

You bit your lip as he groped you, as he toyed with all your most sensitive spots and got your mind hazy and delirious with pleasure, so you couldn’t possibly say no to his offer, but you couldn't deny that even without the pleasing sensations, it was...a pleasant thought. 

Taking care of your children with your body, tending to little beast-kin pups that looked like him and you combined, conjoined, a mixture of the very best of your features and the very best of his. 

You had nightmares about the prospect in your real life, but that was a lifetime ago now. That was an entirely different person. The person you were now understood what a privilege it would be to do this for him, to carry and birth his young. 

He was always so generous with you. 

"Do you want that?" He whispered, his voice almost sounding sincere as he continued to thrust into you, as the hand on your chin went upwards and cupped your cheek gently, a sign of affection usually reserved for lovers. “Do you want my children?”

"Yes...yes, sir," You panted, your mind half-mad (all mad, certainly) as you took desperate lungfuls of air, just trying to keep present and conscious when you were so close to losing yourself.

"Good girl, gooood girl," He purred with his own delirious smile, his hands gripping your body, his caresses becoming more possessive, more lustful, and more demanding. "Say it again...say you want it with your words, baby. Come on now."

"I want to be your breeding doll," You moaned open-mouthed, your body arching and your head thrown back as you thrashed underneath him, like you were possessed, losing yourself in your own pleasure as he slowly eased and pressed even deeper, his knot spreading you wide open. "I want your puppies!"

His own face was a little flushed just hearing you, and his breaths became ragged and his expression feral and hungry. 

"You'll do it all and you’ll do it so perfectly, sweetheart,” He murmured, his breathing heavy and his hand squeezing your chest even harder, marring your skin, your soft flesh. “You'll be my pet, my little breeding doll, yes, yes, always. You'll raise my litter of beautiful little puppies...they'll be our family. Do you hear me, pet?" He growled then, a mad grin of sharp teeth growing wider as he looked down at you, his whole body shaking with lustful excitement. "Do you hear me? They’ll always have us, always…we’ll never abandon them or hurt them, will we?"

“No, sir,” You murmured, your voice slurring as your cunt swallowed his knot greedily, your muscles clenching so tight that Fox couldn’t resist a long moan, pressing his forehead against your collarbone as he pounded even deeper. 

“Good girl,” He growled, his golden eyes growing dark with desire as he glared back up towards you. “You’ll be such a good mother, such a good mommy…”

You whined softly, pressing your naked body up against his (the best that you could while you were still belted down), totally boneless despite how much you were struggling, as he pressed a hungry kiss to your mouth, claiming your lips in a rare display of possessive affection for you. His eyes were wide with excitement, his body pulsing with desire as he claimed you completely. 

His breathing came out short, heavy inhales against your neck once he pulled away from the kiss, as his mouth continued to work desperately for more of you, bites against your jaw, your neck.

“I caaan’t,” You whined desperately, squeezing your eyes shut and panting against his skin as he placed a hand on your throat, his lips against your cheek, almost a kiss. “Nghh, too much, please…”

His grip on your throat tightened slightly. It's not quite a choke hold, but it's getting there.

"Shhh..." He whispered softly, his mouth breathing hot and heavy against your cheek, giving you a little nip, adorning you with more bruises that tied you to him. "You can do this, mommy. You want this. Need it. "

Your eyes rolled back into your skull as he gripped your throat even tighter, your breath stuttering and your body incredibly tense as you focused all of your attention on normalising your breathing, feeling the pulsing heat of his cock pounding into your cunt. His grip on your throat was slowly tightening just a little more, the pressure now bordering on actual choking. 

He wanted you to feel him completely, and for you to give him everything you had.

Your sanity, your mind, your body, your womb.

“Tell me you want it,” He demanded with a shocking amount of finality to his words, biting his own lip so hard that it was almost rupturing the skin, making himself bleed from his own desire. “One more time, so I know. So I know…”

"Breed me," You pleaded, your eyes fluttering as you looked up at him, like he was the God that you were praying to. "Give me your puppies, Fox, please..."

Fox’s fingers tightened around your neck as he heard your desperate words, his lips trembling just a touch against your cheek as he let out a low grunt from the very back of his throat. He pulled back from your cheek and ran his tongue over the patch of marred skin on your shoulder, his teeth slowly beginning to sink into you again, his mouth tasting with desperation to be even closer to you. 

You couldn’t hold back a pained moan as his mouth worked aggressively against your skin, as he devoured your body with lust, hunger, and pleasure, his sharp teeth puncturing the delicate skin of your shoulder and his hips somehow moving faster and more erratically, on the very precipice of pleasure himself. His breathing was heavy as he felt your body surrender completely to the pleasure, and all he could think about is giving you more and more of it.

"I've got you..." He whispered, a low growl against your neck, his words catching just a touch as he pressed a bloody kiss to your jaw. "I'm not letting you go until I'm done with you. "

"Never let me go," You slurred softly, your mouth staying open with desperate gasps as his grip on your neck tightened even more, your vision starting to go fuzzy. “Never let me go…”

With that, with a vicious snarl from the very back of his throat, a second aggressive bite pressed into your shoulder, and his claws digging deep into your chest, marring you with bloody injuries as he always did, he stilled with a spasm, and you felt him spill deep, deep inside of you.

Finally letting go of your neck, Fox drew back and pressed his body against yours, his grip on your chest slackening as he let out a deep and long sigh of satisfaction. He buried his head against your neck uncharacteristically, searching for the warm space between your shoulder and your jaw, and his mouth resting against your skin as he panted, doing his best to recouperiate as you lay slack underneath him

You were barely conscious as you took in your own heaving breaths, but you could feel him move your thighs to rest over the top of his knees, hitching your body up and…well, giving his puppies the best chance inside of you.

You didn’t stop a delirious smile coming to your face as you felt his seed inside of you.

You would lie here for days if you needed to. 

To give him what he wanted. And what you surely wanted now too.

#the price of flesh #fox tpof #ren hana #ren x reader #ren x mc #fox x reader #fox x mc #i've been thinking a lot about the inherent body horror of pregnancy so. this i guess #this is part of kinktober i just wanted to do a separate posting for this since it's a long un

[lynn-w3st]

Sneak Peek

Note: A small prequel for my new remastered version of Babysitting 101 that will be made in the spring. Hope you guys enjoy this version.

Warning: Mention of Death, Mention of Abuse, Angst, Protective Johnny Cage

“Your mother was nothing more but a common whore.” Your father said as you dully stared at your mother’s coffin with dry tear stains on your rosy cheeks. Your uncle gave his older brother a very hard glare as he brought you into a tight embrace. “It’s ok kiddo your father is just being a big meanie”. Johnny said in a very angry tone.

Little(Y,N) Cage watched in devastation and despair as your mother’s coffin ascended deeper into the ground. You hug your uncle tightly and cried in agony and sorrow. Your grandparents stared at you in pure disbelief.

“Stop crying you brat. That is not how a Cage should act, your mother was weak and soft on you. You are a pathetic excuse of a daughter.” Your father said harshly but was cut off by your uncle Johnny who punch him hard on his face.

You flinch in fear as you hug yourself tightly and remembered the way you father would hit you badly for misbehaving and lock you away.

Your grandmother walked up to you and slap you across the face. “You are a disgrace to this family. Your mother was nothing but a liar.” She said sternly as you held your stinging cheek as tears fell from your face. Brittany, a close family friend quickly brought you into her warm arms.

“It’s ok, everything will be ok. Your father is not thinking right in the head. Let’s go sit down on that bench over there.” She said softly as you continue to cry uncontrollably and tried to wipe away your tears before your father gets angry.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry! I’ll stop crying.” You said as you continued to cry and hyperventilate out of control. Brittany brought you into a tight hug and rock you back and forth. She soon began to reassure you as your uncle Johnny argue with both his older brother and his parents about the situation regarding your mother’s recent death.

“That child is a waste of space, Jack. Look at her, she’s to weak and she’s not going to get any more better after that whore of a woman died.” Your grandmother Rose Cage said as your grandfather nodded at his wife’s opinion.

Robert Cage never understood why his oldest son had to marry a monster of a woman. All she was to his son was just a property to use and never treated her as a daughter-in-law to her.

“ I suggest you give that brat up to adoption. She’s an abomination of a human being, she’s not human! She is not normal and will never be normal. She’s a nobody that no one cares for.” Your grandfather said in disgusts as you cried uncontrollably and desperately hug Brittany.

Your father Jack Cage watch in disgust as you cried like a little useless bitch you always were. He scoffed as you hid your face into Brittany’s chest and whimpered in fear and sadness as your father turn to face his younger brother.

Johnny at this point was beyond furious, he was in rage. He wanted nothing more than to beat the fuck out of his useless older brother. “Clearly no one of you know how to care for a child. Now I’m going to be the best son ever and you’re welcome as I’ll take care of the little songbird myself.” Johnny said in a stern tone.

Your father scoffed angrily, “ I could care less for her. She’s all yours now. I don’t want to do anything with her. All I know she is not my child and will never be.” Your father said as he glared at you before walking away from your mother’s grave with your grandparents following him.

Johnny Cage sigh tiredly and ruffled his hair before walking towards where you and Brittany were at. “Hey sweetie how do you feel about a sleepover with your fun and awesome uncle.” He said softly as he gently wipe your tears.

You nodded weakly as you wrapped your tiny arms around him and buried your face into his shoulder. “C-can we go home Uncle Johnny.” You said quietly as Brittany wipe her tears away.

Johnny held you tightly and for the first time, he cried in sadness and pain as you were to innocent and young to witness the harsh truth and reality of life. He will make sure and vow that you will never feel like a burden. Johnny will shower you with love, happiness and joy.

He will make sure to provide you the best life for you and spoil you with gifts and love. Johnny will make sure to give you the very best education and childhood that you ever need.

Brittany smiled in sadness as she place a very beautiful rose on your mother’s grave stone. “Don’t worry Kiku, we will make sure that (Y,N) gets the wonderful life she deserves. May you rest peacefully in the heavens and watch over her.” She said softly as held your other hand.

The three of you walk towards Johnny’s car as a very beautiful butterfly flew be above you and into the sky. Your mother’s spirit watch as you walk away into your new life with your uncle.

Sorry for being inactive this month, it’s been very mentally exhausting and I’m currently dealing with a very difficult situation in the moment. Please message me if you guys have any questions or concerns for me.

Brittany is @mkcrush’s oc that I made for her.

#mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mk1 fanfic #mortal kombat 2023 #child reader #mk1 x reader #johnny cage #mk1 oc

[marilynthornhilllover]

When you call my name. do you think i'll come running? {Chapter 4}

+ if I could get to sleep I would have slept by now

+ your lies will never keep,I think you need to blow them out

Warning : indecent language, mental health issues, blood, injury, cage trapped, hurt, depression, sadness, grief, self guilt, insomnia, denial, confusion, sickness, near death, fluff, angst. Etc.

Want to read part 3?: part 3

She hated herself. She hated every minute she spent in the castle and you weren't there. Everytime she shut her eyes and got sleep and you weren't, every meal she ate and you were starving. She hated it. She wanted to truly die. To not exist. She couldn't bear the thought of what mother miranda might do to you. She sighed and got out of bed wrapping her robe around her cold body. Your screams replayed in her ears. It was like a broken record. Even though you weren't dead, you were hunting her.

Alcina sat at her vanity and and lit herself a cigarette. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and she quickly looked away. She couldn't bear to look at herself. How could she be so evil. So heartless. Tears formed in her eyes before she quickly blinked them away. She put her cigarette in the ash tray and went into her closet to get ready to pay you a vist.

~

Your body jolted awake by a throbbing pain in your arm. You winched as you saw bruises from your wrist down to your elbow, along wigh a couple cuts. You sighed as you threw your head back against the cold mental wall. You looked up at the light and began to sob. You truly thought she was different. That she cared. That she was good. But she was truly the monster everyone Said she was. How could she love and care when she has no heart. Even if she did own one it's cold as fuck.

You closed your eyes for a while and slowly drifted off to sleep before you heard the cage door unlock and open. You flinched awake and quickly crawled over to the Corner of the cell. You started shaking. You placed your hands over your head as you curled up with your knees to your chest. You started to slightly hyperventilate.

" draga...." You heard a soft voice call out. You shook your head, your were probably hallucinating. You felt a soft hand on your arm pulling you closer, you pulled away and she sighed. You slowly looked up at her and both your worlds froze. Alcina completely forgot what she wanted to say to you. As for you, you were completely loss for words. It's difficult to be around her now, the silence chills the air.

You didn't know when you became so broken. Or if it can be healed, why is it so hard for her to understand of you feel. Can she hear you? All the screams you did? Can she hear you between the thoughts in her head. This has to be a sick joke. What can she possibly say to not make this all seem like a hoax.

" if you came here to pity me or say your sorry don't bother" you huffed, holding your arm you stood to your feet. She quickly did the same. You could see the regret and pain in her eyes but what if it was really just a hoax. Maybe she really doesn't care.

" I'm going to get you out of here draga I promise" she whispered caressing your cheek. You gently pushed her hand away tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

" your job was to make sure i didn't end up in here in the first place alcina" you spoke softly looking down as the tears fell from your eyes. You sniffed and looked back up at her. She looked like she was in her thoughts. Did she hear you? Can see not see that you have bled, how much your heart have shred? Did she understand what you just said? Can she even hear you over all the thoughts in her head?. You looked up at her once more tears clouding your vision. You began to sob.

Your soft cry brought her back to reality. When she looked at you her heart broke. She could hear all the splinters crashing against the floor, and the pain taking its rightful place in her chest. She reached out her hand to touch you but there's nothing she can do to comfort you. She pulled back her hand and began to leave. You quickly ran towards the cage but it was too late. She had already locked and closed it back.

" n-no a-alcina please don't leave me here, p-please" you whimpered, the salty tears blocking your vision. She looked at you sorryful.

" I'm scared to lose you draga..... I promise I'll get you out of here ok?" She caressed your cheek one last time before she quickly started walking away.

" alcina! Alcina no!!! Please don't leave me here alone alci!!! I'm cold! Remember when I helped your daughters??? Help me please!" You cried out but it seems to be no use. You dropped to the floor sobbing. You shook your head vigorously. This couldn't be the end.

" Hello! Is anyone there!." You called out but silence washed over you. You closed your eyes and stood to your feet. You screamed as you held onto the cage bars. The pain was too much for a human being to bare.

" if anyone is out there who knows I'm here,please get help, I didn't do anything and I don't want to die I swear!" You shouted falling to your knees once more.

You don't know how much time has passed but it felt like forever.

" cheer up child" a voice rang from the cage across you. You looked up to see a old woman. She looked clean for someone who was in this hell hole. You didn't even notice she was there.

" just because she's scared to lose you doesn't mean she loves you" she whispered before beginning to laugh that was quickly followed by a cough that sounded terrible. She sighed before leaning her head against the wall.

" I've been in here for 30 years now...... if your useful they keep you around. Feed you, use you, cloth you. What brings you into hell my child" she spoke before returning her gaze to you.

" my mom burned down castle dimitrescu..... well I don't know if it's burned down. " you whispered sniffling and wiping the dried tears. She hummed.

" you and the lady got something special going on?" She asked lighting a cigarette and blowing it out through her nose.

" no. I was her maiden. I guess I just saw the good side of her....." You spoke whimpering as your arm throbbed with pain. She huffed and she blowed out the smoke from her mouth before taking another drag.

" alcina was a very beautiful child growing up..... so was her sister don't get me wrong..... always joyful and happy. Never once did she see a sad person and not try to cheer them up. Ha. That girl loved music. Her room was filled with guitars and pianos oh man did she love her black and gold violin." She spoke before breathing out smoke.

" she was supposed to be a queen you know.... her mother was the queen of this village.... she married a poor man from the village. The village loved and honored her. And they lived alcina too." She coughed before putting the cigarette in a hole.

" when alcinas mom passed everything changed. Her father had no time for her and married many women. When alcina turned 19 he sent her away to study to become the next reining queen but knowing that mischievous little girl. Mh. She had other plans..... she became a singer..... she was damn good at it too. Until life slapped her in the face" the lady spoke before standing up.

" turns out she had a hereditary blood disorder.... and would die soon because she left it untreated...."

" she came back... half dead. Basically to bury herself.... then mother miranda came along and offered her eternal life. That was if she took the cadou of course. That made her entire life change. She almost died. And if you ask me, she should have stayed a half dead woman because now she's half human, half vampire,half dragon..... honestly kid.... Lady dimitrescu was a good woman before the cadou and she still is but shes a damn criminal. But She's done alot of good things for the village. And she followed in her mother's foot steps and made this land better" the lady came out of the cage and proceeded to go up some stairs.

" wait! Where- how are you allowed to-" she cut you off.

" I'm the cleaner of the lab little one. As i said. If miranda finds you useful. She'll give you numerous gifts and authority" she said as she smiled but it didn't reached her eyes. She winked then left. You sighed as a headache began to curse through your head. You sighed as you closed your eyes and try your best to forget that your even here.

~

Alcina sighed as she knocked on the door of Miranda's house. The tall black mansion stood before her. The doors opened and a gust of cold air lingered on alcinas porcelain skin. Her gaze met mother Miranda's golden eyes.

" to what do I own you for showing up at my door without a called meeting alcina!. Have you no respect for me!?" Miranda's voice was loud and aggressive but yet it was soft. Miranda had a soft spot for alcina. It was rare but she did. Miranda had great respect for alcinas mother and she promised to pass it on to alcina as well.

" all needed apologies mother miranda but I'm afraid we need to talk" alcina spoke taking a step closer to miranda. Miranda raised her eyebrow and scoffed.

" if you wanted to talk to me you need to call a meeting" she said plainly. Alcina sighed as she was beginning to run low on patience.

" you and I both know this is not a meeting matter! And if a meeting is called the other lords will know about our business and THAT IS NOT NEEDED!" Alcina spoke slightly raising her voice. Mother Miranda's eyes flashed a dull yellow and a dull black. A sign she was raging.

" to who do you speak to?" She asked closing the gap between her and alcina. Alcina gulped as she slowly stepped back.

" my apologies mother miranda...... please hear me out" she spoke looking down. Mother miranda huffed as she walked inside.

" you may enter ,dimitrescu" she said walking to sit on her throne. Alcina took a seat on the couch and awaited her time to speak.

" is it about yourself called lover?" She asked quirking an eye brow and she siped her wine. Alcina gulped and looked away before proceeding to stand.

" Miranda you've known me for a very long time.... you knew my mother and you worked for my grand and great grand mother. You know my family does not take pity on villagers.... what my mother did with my father was a risk..... and a disgrace to the dimitrescu family line. But I fear that I am repeating my mother's foot steps and I don't feel a sense of regret" alcina spoke, taking a step closer to mother miranda and sighed.

" what you do with your life and heart is no my business alcina. I saved you once there will be no second time.... I promised your mother that I will protect and keep you, not babysit you. And I have made the same promise to you with your children whom I have great love for,especially bela" she spoke standing up.

" I'm begging you mother miranda..... let y/n y/l/n go.... she has caused no damage to my house and no one was harmed" she spoke bowing her head. Miranda was a tough cookie to break but she knew what love felt like. Because she too fell in love. She too knows what it's like to have your lover be far from you. Have your lover be broken and alone. For her lover is her diseased daughter. Her face saddened as she felt pity for alcina.

" I've built up walls for years and locked people out of my life...... music has been my only love since my human life..... but ever since y/n came into my life she's..... changed me miranda..... she's my only hope. My light in the darkness.... the only one my heart longs for in the dry days... my world has ended many times but I believe with y/n in it, I have a second chance" she spoke tears forming in her eyes as she spoke.

Miranda sighed as she cane down and gently placed her hand on alcinas shoulder.

" I pity you alcina honestly. But you have my blessing" she spoke. Alcina smiled softly before walking towards the door.

" and next time you want to enter my territory dimitrescu make sure to have a more valid reason" miranda spoke understand her breath. Alcina sighed and rolled her eyes. How can one be so two faced. Alcina left and took the carage back to the lab to see you.

~

As alcina stepped closer to the cage she could hear you vomiting your guts out, she quickly opens and unlocks the cage and run to your side helping you pull back your hair. She scrunch up her nose at the scent and pull the bucket closer to you. She then rubs your back and starts singing a low pitched Romanian song.

"That's it draga let it out" she cooed as she rubbed your back. You couldn't hear anything. You might as well be with Alice in wonderland. You haven't eaten in days, nor have you had a glass of water to drink. You felt tried, broken, and hungry. You were feeling pain you didn't even know was possible to feel. Your arm felt like it was going to drop off soon. It felt like it was on fire. You felt like you couldn't breath. Everything around was either blurred or far way.

You didn't even register when alcina came into the room and all the comforting things she was going. You felt burnt out. Your chest hurt, your heart hurt even your soul hurt. The physical pain was too much and the mental pain was becoming unbearable. You felt like your were going to go completely crazy. You felt like you were at two places at once because you didn't realize you started hyperventilating.

" just breath draga mea. Come on" you felt someone picking you up then her perfume invaded your senses. Alcinas perfume. You felt rage and anger, frustration, sadness, loneliness, love. You felt everything at once and you needed it to stop. But at the same time you were to scared for it to stop. Because then what? She gets to fucking apologize and your supposed to feel sorry, give her a kiss on the cheek tell her it's ok, that she's forgiven and live happily ever after?.

You felt like all you were to her was a empty box it her "to do" list, and all she had to do was check you off. You found comfort in the sadness. Sometimes we have to live our lives in black and white because some colors are pretty.

" That's it..... see your ok" you slowly came back from your hell hole taking a long breath out. You sat there on her lap, staring into space before you realized how much this woman has ruined your life. You crawled your way out of her lap and onto the cold floor. You sniffed as you refused to look at her even though her eyes were buring into you.

" draga-" she tried but you didn't let her.

" don't you fucking dare" you hissed looking up at her for a split second. You tried to push yourself up but you forgot that your hand was broken and miranda slit your wrist open slightly. You cried out in pain as you pressed down on the arm that was already suffering. Alcina quickly but gently held onto your waist trying you help you but you weren't having it.

" don't touch me" you shouted trying to get up on your own but alcina had to help. She hated seeing you in pain. If you suffered she had to as well. If she could take your pain and worries away she would in an instant, no buts or ifs. She doesn't even care if she dies.

" I said leave me alone cina!" You shouted pushing her off you once again before falling slightly onto the broken arm crying out in pain once more. Tears welled in her eyes as she saw the pain you were in she once again she tried to help. After all she's the reason your like this. The situation was too overwhelming for you. You wanted her help yet you didn't want her to think your weak.

" draga please, your gonna hurt yourself more let me see-" you stood to your feet and pushed her hard, you push didn't impact her much but it crushed her heart and soul.

" and why the fuck do you care? Huh? Do you have any idea how much I've suffered because of you. How much pain you caused me?!. I've been in here with out any food or water! I am tired alcina! T-TIRED" you shouted your voice breaking in the midst. The tears that alcina has been keeping at bay finally overflows. You close your eyes and bit your lips trying to stay strong but it was too much. The pain was too much. You began to sob.

" you know what cina... fuck you. Your a fucking monster" you whispered, and with thoses words you saw the last bit of alcinas heart break into pieces. You saw it all fall down like a dynasty. Tears filled her eyes as they overflowed and ran down her cheeks, her mascara following with it.

" don't say that please......" she whispered looking down.

" but you are!" You shouted voice shaking as you fell to the ground sobing. Everything started to play in your head like a old TV that was broken. The day she cut your friends to ribbons, your first day at the castle, the way she would look at you, the way she treated you. If she was a good person why is she doing this to you.... you wished you never loved her this much. You wish you didn't waste all those times thinking about her. You wished you never got excited everytime she would look at you in a room filled with maids.

You wished you didn't meet her. You wished she didn't exist or you never knew her, or maybe she never knew you. Because on the end the one that got hurt was you..... not her.

Alcina looks down at you her eyes filled with tears and her heart completely broken. Never once did she thought that her heart could break this bad..... she didn't know she could love and care for someone so much.... the only person's she truly loved were her daughters not even herself and along came you.

You looked up at her feeling your body go limp and your vision get clouded. You feel so much pain that you just decided to give in and stop fighting it. You let out one last sob followed by a whimper before you felt yourself fall back against the wall. You had no control over your body what so ever yet you felt yourself shaking and twitching. Your eyes rolled back as your vision turned completely black. Your body finally stopped moving and you heard loud ringing sounds in your ear.....

You could hear alcina screaming? Shouting maybe? You didn't know.... and you really didn't care and she shouldn't either. This is you giving up.... letting go....

You've had enough. You could hear your heart beat against your chest, the feeling of being picked up and carried. Soft lips against the skin of your face. But you didn't care. This is it. This is you giving up. Leaving.....

You opened your eyes but your weren't awake, awake. Infront of you was your mom and bedside her was alcina.

" y/n she does love you......." your mother whispered before walking away. Then you saw alcina crying while looking at you.

" the hardest thing I'll ever do is walk away while I still love you...." She whispered before she walked away as well.

You jolted awake by a electric defibrillator. The pain of the world quickly came back to you. You whimpered as you turned. You realized you were laying on alcina..... in her bed....

You were in the right headspace yet.... you could see lots if people in white in the room but you couldn't make them out because your vision was still bad.

" I'm sorry cina.... for hurting your feelings..... I love you" you whispered before whimpering again as another wave of pain hit you.

" it's ok draga mea. My sweet pure girl. I love you more than you can imagine..." that's all you heard before you passed out again. There are plenty of ways to die...... but only love kills you and keep you alive the feel the pain......

Tag list: @willalovexx @ilovehugslikealotalot @heidsworld @milkiedimitrescu @willowshadenox @enchantressb @moistblobfish @nclgsticore if your not in the tag list but would like to be tagged for the next chapters please comment below!💞

#Spotify #fypシ゚viral #fanfic #love #cute #agnst #hurt/comfort #hurtful #alcina x maiden #resident evil alcina #alcina demitriscu #alcina x y/n #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu #re8 alcina #alcina dimitriscu x reader #re8 lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescuxreader #marilynthornhilllover #chapter 4 #series #resident evil village #resdient evil

[warlordfelwinter]

Delphi/Crow 26. 👁

26. … when the world was ending

Clouds hung over the city, dark and heavy with the threat of rain. Thunder rumbled through them, but they hadn’t broken yet. They just settled further in, threatening to obscure the Traveler from view.

Delphi stood at a railing, looking out toward it. He watched familiar patterns of light dance across the surface, a slight aura around it keeping the clouds from completely obscuring it for now. Most employees of the Tower had retreated inside, anticipating a storm. Delphi had been standing here since the clouds had started to build, his grip on the railing becoming tighter with each rumble of thunder.

Lightning flashed overhead, striking one of the outcroppings on the Tower designed for that purpose. He flinched and in the second he closed his eyes, he saw the Tower burning. Smoke choked the air, muffling terrified screams, the burning city below casting an orange glow on the Traveler as a cage spidered across it. Delphi sprinted, trying not to look, trying not to think, trying not to feel the Traveler’s unconscious fear—

“Delphi.”

A touch on his shoulder startled him. His heart still pounding with residual fear, he lashed out, striking Crow’s hand away. He stilled almost immediately, confused. The sky above him was still dark, but there was no fire, and the Traveler hung untouched in the sky, awake and free.

Crow looked concerned. “Are you all right?”

“I… Yes. Fine,” Delphi lied. “Sorry. I was just lost in thought and you startled me.” He turned back toward the Traveler, his hands going back to the railing. Thunder sounded overhead again and his grip tightened.

“In my defense, I said your name four times,” Crow said, shifting over to stand next to him. “And you’re lying. What’s wrong?” He followed Delphi’s gaze to the Traveler. “Is… it saying something?”

Delphi blinked, closing his eyes to listen for a moment. Maybe it was saying something. In the dark, he saw Artemis falling to the ground, he felt his Light ripped away, he saw his own hands soaked in blood holding the Speaker’s head up, heard his own voice pleading and sobbing—

He opened his eyes again, trembling. “No,” he said quietly. “No, I just… I just need to make sure…” he faltered, staring at the Traveler. Lightning laced through the clouds around it.

Crow was quiet for a moment, waiting for him to finish the thought.

“You almost look like you’re afraid of the clouds,” he commented eventually. Delphi was usually a fan of dreary weather, he'd never seen him look at the sky like this. Like he was waiting for it to try to kill him.

“Not the clouds,” Delphi said, “what they hide.” He flinched at another rumble of thunder, keeping his gaze firmly on the Traveler. “When a storm isn’t a storm, when it’s the end of the world. I just need to… I just want to keep watching.”

Crow put his hand over one of Delphi’s on the railing, squeezing lightly. “I’ll watch with you, then.”

Delphi didn’t reply, his gaze still fixed resolutely on the Traveler. Crow watched him for a moment, worried. He’d never seen Delphi get quite like this before. He had been through a lot, much of which Crow didn’t know the details of, and the shadows of his past did sometimes sneak up on him. Crow knew enough about how that felt, but whatever it was Delphi was thinking about now seemed different. He was lightly trembling, expression guarded but terrified. When Crow had first come up, he’d been hyperventilating. He was still breathing hard.

He wanted to ask, but he didn’t think he’d get an answer. He didn't want to make it worse.

[ Towerfall. ] Glint supplied, uncertainly.

Oh. The Red War. Crow didn’t know a lot of details about what had happened, just the broad strokes. But it made sense, if Delphi wanted to keep an eye on the Traveler. He’d known, from the stories, that Delphi had been one of the Guardians who had orchestrated the end of the war, the first to get his Light back, but he’d never really consciously connected that person from the stories to the Delphi he knew. He wondered if Delphi had felt it when the Traveler had been caged. He wondered what he had seen.

He leaned his shoulder into Delphi’s slightly. “The world didn’t end,” he said. “The City is still here, the Traveler is still here, you're still here. The world’s still here.”

“For now,” Delphi murmured. One of his hands moved, unconsciously, to the arm he kept covered. Crow knew why, he’d seen the veins of black that marred Delphi’s skin. A consequence of his interactions with the Darkness, though the spread had seemingly stalled. A reminder of what was coming.

"Isn't that enough, for now?" Crow said.

The light under Delphi's skin seemed to glow brighter for a moment, his eyes briefly flooding with it the way they did when the Traveler spoke to him. It passed swiftly and Delphi exhaled, surprised. He refocused on the Traveler, but his gaze was softer now and some of the tension had gone from his shoulders. He leaned against Crow.

Crow looked at the Traveler, silently mouthing the words ‘thank you', suspecting it had taken a moment to reassure its Oracle.

Lightning flashed overhead again and with a crash of thunder the skies opened up in a deluge that instantly soaked both of them.

Delphi gasped at the shock, startled out of his reverie. He looked up at the sky, blinking and squinting against the rain, and then turned away from the Traveler, toward Crow. Crow took his hand and they ran to the nearest overhang.

“There, see?” Crow said, smiling, as Delphi shook water off his sleeves. He pulled Delphi gently into his arms and pushed his drenched hair back away from his face. “Just a normal storm.”

Delphi leaned against him. He took one last look at the Traveler, barely visible now through the sheets of rain. “Just a normal storm,” he agreed. He looked at Crow, gaze clearer. “Thank you. Let’s, uh, go dry off.”

#all right this one got away from me #i started thinking about what's the most world ending thing delphi's been through #and it was definitely the red war which crow wasn't there for #so i compromised #ask games #replies #seventhscorpio #one prompt left atom i promise i haven't forgotten #i'm just being very slow #destiny #fic #oc: delphi #crow/guardian

[lifblogs]

Don't Call Me Sammy: Chapter 4

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT READ ON AO3

Sam gasped for air when he awoke, feeling as if he hadn’t breathed in years. It didn’t surprise him that he was still in the cage, nor did the fact that his injuries from before had completely vanished. Whatever happened to him was some form of dying. One would think it’d be easier to cope with each time as he grew used to it, but no. It was harder, piling up and adding on till he was already an overflowing chest.

Cold chains were wrapped—painfully, Sam might add—around his bare arms and legs, and a leather strap was about his neck. He struggled against his restraints, but to no avail. Sam laid his head back down, and that was when he spotted Lucifer, who was holding a syringe with an amused smile on his face.

His voice was awfully chipper when he said, “Good morning, Sammy.”

He struggled against his restraints as anger flared up in him. “I told you not to call me Sammy.”

“So you don’t like it when I call you that,” Lucifer said as he approached. “Well boo hoo.” Sam flinched when he reached out and touched his arm. It made him sick how gently Lucifer ran his fingers along his skin. Wasn’t the Devil supposed to hurt him? Well, Sam thought as he eyed the syringe, he had plans to. “This is almost ridiculous,” Lucifer said. “I mean, how’d you get your arms to be this muscular?”

“By hunting down evil sons of bitches like you,” Sam spat.

A gasp left him as the syringe was jabbed forcefully into his bicep, and then he closed his mouth, letting out a grunt of pain.

“What is that?” Sam asked, voice thick with fear.

His arm stung as Lucifer began injecting him with whatever the hell that was.

“Oh, this?” he asked, sounding rather pleased with himself. “It’s just something to heighten your senses.”

He got in real close before continuing, and Sam was once again privy to his fetid breath, “The more you scream, the more fun I have.”

Sam wished to yell for Lucifer to let him go, but he admitted defeat. It was impossible to escape any of this when Lucifer had him chained naked to a table, and he was hell bent on torturing him. Sam almost laughed when he thought of the phrase “hell bent.” As Lucifer walked away, Sam nearly did so, just to freak him out. The idea of laughing went out of his head when he picked up the knife from before off of a table of dark wood. And the blade was stained crimson with his blood.

Lucifer sighed in an almost peaceful manner as he observed the blood on the blade. “I’m so glad we’re finally getting started.” He twirled the blade around as he walked over, and Sam kept his eyes on it. However, his gaze switched to Lucifer when he began to push his hair back from his face with it. “Ooh, you’re looking at me,” Lucifer said. “And here I thought you were just going to look at this knife.” Then, as if to emphasize his words, he slashed it across Sam’s cheek, making him gasp as he turned away. Blood spilled from the wound, and his wince only made it worse as his muscles pulled at torn skin. Once again, Lucifer invaded his personal space, making Sam so uncomfortable. “How did that feel?” he asked. Then, he gave him an overdramatic pout. “Did I hurt poor wittle Sammy? Poor wittle, wittle Sammy.”

“Don’t—” Sam began, but was cut off.

“—call you that?” Sam flinched with surprise when Lucifer tapped his nose with a finger. “Yes, I know you don’t like it, and that’s why I do it.”

He was relieved that Lucifer was now drawing away from him. Without him so close, Sam felt stronger, not as vulnerable. Though, the gaze Lucifer swept over him made his skin crawl. He swallowed roughly. “I’m going to find a way to kill you,” Sam told him, resolute. He would. Somehow, he would escape this prison, he would get the right weapon, come up with the right plan, and he would tear Lucifer’s throat out.

“Chills,” Lucifer said mockingly. He then decided to run the edge of the knife along Sam’s torso, making goosebumps rise up all over his body. His breaths quickened until he was sure he would hyperventilate. “I call you Sammy because it’s funny. Your anger amuses me, but more than that. What kind of nickname is that for a grown man? Well, overgrown in your case.”

“My brother gave it to me when we were little.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes as he nonchalantly dug the blade into Sam’s abdomen, making him scream. “I know,” he replied. “And you don’t let anyone else call you that. Is it because you love Dean so much? Maybe as more than a brother?”

His suggestion was beyond revolting, and Sam’s face probably showed what he thought about that, surely going green around the mouth.

“I’m joking! Jeez, Sammy, can’t you take a joke?” Lucifer responded as he ran the knife in a straight line up his chest. Sam kept switching back and forth between watching it and watching Lucifer. After slashing Sam one more time, the pain like a molten river of fire in him because of what he’d been injected with, Lucifer put the knife under his chin. “Don’t look at the knife, Sammy. Look at me. It’s not the knife that’s hurting you. It’s me.”

A muscle in Sam’s cheek twitched as he met Lucifer’s gaze. He tried to show him that despite the pain he was in, he was far from ready to break, if that was even what he wanted.

“I wish I could tell you to go to Hell,” Sam said in as powerful a voice as he could muster at the moment, “but we’re already here.”

“And whose fault is that?” he asked. Sam kept his mouth shut, knowing he wasn’t expecting an answer.

After nicking his chin with the knife, the stinging pain joining the throb of the other wounds he’d received, Lucifer walked away, back to the table to put the knife down. Sam was worried about what he would grab next. He’d been tortured before, but never like this. Never by Satan. It was going to be difficult to hang on.

Lucifer took his time about selecting what to use on him next, and during that time, Sam focused on taking deep breaths. It wouldn’t be good if Lucifer had an easy time breaking him. He wasn’t sure who he was doing this for. Himself? Dean?

No. He wanted Dean to live a life. To not try and save him from this.

Besides, Sam thought, I deserve this.

The thought was surprisingly not too depressing. It made sense to him. He’d done so many horrible things in the past two years. He’d had more than his fill of demon blood. He’d slept with a demon for crying out loud! Sam’s thoughts betrayed him as he thought about Ruby because there was still a hint of desire in them. Desire for her body as much as her blood. It made him almost desire to be tortured by Lucifer. And he’d done much more than that. He’d betrayed Dean, and he’d gotten innocent people killed. Hell, he’d probably managed to fill the whole of Heaven by starting the apocalypse.

Though Sam hadn’t done the killing himself, he might as well have, his hands hot and sticky with the blood of innocents. When he had killed Lilith with his mind he had doomed everyone, practically dug their graves for them. Lucifer, Dean’s suffering, the apocalypse… it was all his fault. So when Lucifer came over with a crude-looking silver spike, Sam almost smiled. His lips fought with the action to do so. He deserved this. He didn’t necessarily hate himself, but he almost saw it as proper justice for the things he’d done.

“What’s making you so expressive?” Lucifer asked.

“Nothing,” Sam replied as he looked away. If he liked it when he looked at him, then he would do his best to avoid that. So he looked at the darkness that enveloped the cage. The darkness might as well have been a mirror of his fear, staring right back at him.

Sam’s skin tingled unpleasantly when Lucifer caressed his shoulder, and he grimaced. He wanted to tell him to stop, but he knew it wouldn’t do anything. Seeming pleased with his reaction, or lack thereof, Lucifer leaned down and placed a kiss against his skin. Sam gritted his teeth, pretending to be unaffected. And then, unexpected agony flared through him. He jerked against his restraints, crying out as the spike stabbed through his shoulder, tearing through skin, muscle, and sinew, grinding through bone. Tears spilled down his cheeks unbidden, and the saltiness of them stung when it entered the wound on his cheek. The laugh Lucifer let out made everything so much worse.

He shook with pain as he turned his head towards him. His stomach churned when he saw the spike sticking out of his shoulder.

The Devil clapped his hands together like he was a little kid. “Oh Sammy, what a great reaction! You’re really a good source of entertainment.” He flicked his nose, making him jump. “But, duh, I knew that already.”

A gasp left him when he reached down and pulled the spike from his shoulder. Warm blood poured from the hole that it left, no doubt staining the table. It made Sam sick as it ran across his skin. Another scream left him as Lucifer dug his finger into the wound. He groaned as he licked the blood from it with his horrid, forked tongue. And then, he held it up, a look of sickening glee on his face.

“We’ve got more blood, folks!” he announced to no one in particular. “Now the party’s really starting.”

Fierce shivers gripped Sam’s body as shock began to set in. He was freezing. To make matters worse, Lucifer was now entertaining himself by moving the spike in and out of the wound he’d left, seeming amused that he could see it through both sides of his shoulder at once. He even laughed, making bile rise into Sam’s throat.

Though he seemed to be freezing, he was also burning. Burning, and burning. It was all too much, and eventually he yelled for Lucifer to stop. To his surprise, the Devil complied, and pulled the spike from him before tossing it down onto the table with the other torture devices.

Sam almost wished he hadn’t gotten his attention in such a way when he put a hand on either side of his head and made sure their faces were close. Despite his fear, Sam held his gaze, not wanting to back down.

“Is my brave warrior done already?” he asked tauntingly. “I hope not. I had so much planned for our first date.”

Sam grimaced at his last sentence. And then, despite the agony he was in, he challenged, “Do your worst.”

Satan grinned. “I’m so glad you said that.”

#spn #supernatural #sam winchester #lucifer #sam and lucifer #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #my writing

[shigarakislittlepet]

im so happy to find a blog with good nsfw content for literally all my faves lol we share the same braincell it seems! how about fluffy nsfw headcanons for Dabi, Shigi, Aizawa and Shinsou and well, Baku but I don't want to overwhelm you even if you don't have a character limit hhh, with a s/o that was completely inexperienced in sex before they got together? They grew more comfortable with the idea of sex over time as they used to be really shy about it but they're scared they'll mess up and disappoint their loves? If possible could you mention what kind of approach each boy would have for the first time with their virgin s/o? I'm just feeling some fluffy dick tonite ya know lol stay safe out there <3

Ohhhh my gosh, this whole thing gave me brain rot lmao, thank you for giving me this power <3<3<3

This also took me literal months to finish because life got crazy, so I’m sorry about that. Hope you enjoy it anyway!

TW: loss of virginity, gentelness, fluffy smut, unprotected sex bc I’m a whore (Y/N is on birth control), and as always all characters are adults especially Y/N

-Dabi-

> You are surprised by how patient he is with you. You were sure he’d have gotten tired of waiting, but he didn’t push. He didn’t make you feel badly about it, and the last thing he would ever want to do to sweet little innocent angel is coerce them into something they weren’t ready for. So, he waits.

> It happened so gradually. Over time, light kissing became making out. After a few months, you got more comfortable and it didn’t feel at all odd to fall into bed with him, cuddling and “swapping spit” as he called it, which always made you giggle like a schoolgirl at his crudeness. His hands would test the waters, but he was always feeling for nervous tremors and flinching, never wanting to go further than you were comfortable. At first, he only rested a hand on you lower back, drawing lazy circles into your waist, his other cradling your face gently, reassuringly. Eventually he could get his hand beneath your shirt, still just at your lower back, but he was content with his progress. Your skin was soft and you said he felt warm, and that was the first time he ever thought of his quirk as “sweet, comforting”, as you described the warmth from his hands.

> After a few months went by, he had progressed to the point of being able to freely roam your body with his hands, the warmth helping you stay calm and anchored to him.

> What continued to surprise you is how easy it felt, once you were ready. You didn’t even see it coming. He asked you, so gently, if he could take your shirt off. You told him he could as long as he promised to keep you warm. He went along slowly, constantly reassuring you, “God Angel, you’re so beautiful. I gotta see more of you, can I? Please?”, “You’re so soft, I need to feel more of your skin, angel, please?” You didn’t even hesitate, you didn’t need to. You felt safer with him than you ever had in your life.

> You realized, once you were both naked together, just how comfortable you were with him. And suddenly you felt like you needed to give him everything he ever wanted, and you knew he would do the same for you.

> It happens so slowly, or at least, it feels like it does. His hand slowly grazes down between your bodies until he reaches your core. You gasp, no one but you had ever touched you there, and it feels so foreign and wonderful. And warm. Once you begin bucking onto his fingers, an insatiable grin stretches across his face. He retracts his fingers, bringing them to his lips, and you watch as he sucks them clean. He calls you delicious and rolls on top of you, asks you if you’re ready for him. For the first time, you look down between your bodies and see just how huge and hard he is for you. When he sees your concern he kisses your forehead, then your lips. “I won’t hurt you Angel, I promise.” You nod and smile, and he starts easing into you, stopping every so often when he can tell the stretch is too much. He kisses your cheeks, your shoulders, your lips, whatever he can get his mouth on as he pants and mumbles little praises. “I love you”, “You’re doin’ so well”, “You’re takin’ me sooo well”, “God, you’re so beautiful, you know how beautiful you are Angel?”, “Ahh, you’re so fuckin’ tight and wet for me Angel, you want me that badly?”. The praises and teases help you considerably to keep you relaxed, and fuck, you DO want him. So fucking badly, you need him. When he’s finally seated inside you fully, he waits, clearly using every last bit of his restraint and self control to give you time to adjust. When you finally whine and buck your hips up on him, he loses it. “I hope you’re fuckin’ ready, Angel.”

>You find rather quickly that Dabi’s style is a beautiful mix of “fucking” and “making love”. He fucks you, hard and deep, so much so that it makes you see stars, but while he does it he’s caging you in-between his arms, holding you close while he pistons in and out of you. He looks you in the eyes, watching your reactions, quickly finding what angle makes you convulse and let out those beautiful moans and coos that he’s now desperate to hear.

>When he nears his end, he reaches down between you again to rub sweet circles against your clit, because no way is Dabi cumming first. It’s just not his style.

-Shigaraki-

>BRAIN ROT

> Shigaraki is definitely happy that you’re inexperienced, he’d kill anyone who had ever laid a hand on you before him. You belonged to him.

> It also means that you’re a virgin, which really gets him going because hes a pervert. ((He’s also secretly glad that he’s not the only virgin))

> He is touch starvvveeeeddddddd. We all know this. But at first, he’s so hesitant to touch you, for fear of destroying you.

> You are patient with each other, and together you find out what works and what doesn’t. He got some artist gloves so he could hold your fucking hand without hyperventilating about dusting you. He’s still afraid of you disappearing beneath his fingertips.

> You were never, not even for a second, worried that he would hurt you. You knew that he could, that he had the ability, but you knew that he wouldn’t.

> He wasn’t so sure, he was afraid of rolling over in the night and finding a pile of dust where you used to be. He wakes up from nightmares about it and has to wake you up to hold you while he shakes uncontrollably. He just has to know you’re alive.

> You both get more and more comfortable with physical proximity and contact together, because you both wanted it, you were both just so worried about fucking everything up.

> When the time came where both of you decided you were ready to have sex, you admitted to him that you were afraid of not measuring up to his expectations. All these “what if’s” kept popping up in your mind: “what if he doesn’t find my body attractive enough”, “what if I don’t know how to move right”, “what if I cant please him”, etc. etc. etc.

> He just looks at you kind of taken aback and confused. He was worried about you not being able to see him as sexually attractive because of how he looked, he was just as self-conscious as you. “Darling, you’re the most perfect person in existence, how can you not see that? Look at me! I’m... I... Look like this! How could I ever hope that someone as beautiful as you could ever see me that way?”

>You didn’t immediately know how to respond. You were... heartbroken that he saw himself that way. You couldn’t image him being self-conscious about anything because in your eyes, he was a god. He was perfect and angelic and you told him as much. You looked at him with such adorably big eyes and your voice was full of so much honesty and adoration, he had to have you immediately. He’d never felt desired, he had never felt lovable. He always thought it would be a miracle if anyone would ever be able to even stomach looking at him without cringing away in disgust. But you were so perfect and you loved him so immediately and so much that it knocked him out. He launches himself at you and just kisses you for a while.

> You both fumbled around a bit at first, trying to find what felt best. You both quickly came to the conclusion that you were going to have to practice together. A lot. As much as possible actually, because even in your inexperience, you both felt more amazing than you ever had in your lives. When you were connected like this, panting, kissing, licking, trying your damndest to become one being, it felt like bliss. You never wanted it to stop.

-Aizawa-

> MORE FUCKING BRAIN ROT

> Aizawa has an innocence kink. There I fucking said it.

> When it comes to the person he’s with, he’s a shameless flirt, and while he would NEVER cross a line or pressure you, he definitely does his best to get you in the mood whenever he can, much to your naïve frustration.

> At first you genuinely don’t even realize he’s doing it on purpose. The heated looks he gave you that made your knees weak? You didn’t think he was doing that on purpose, it’s just because he’s... tired? And he always looks so gorgeous, so that’s why. He ALWAYS makes your knees weak. Yeah that’s all it is, obviously.

> And when he comes up behind you, hands on your hips gently, and lowly rumbling in your ear. Sometimes it’s just comments about whatever you’re doing, which was bad enough. But sometimes it was mumbled compliments. About your outfit, how good it made your ass look. About how soft your hair was, how good you smelled, the softness of your skin while he gently rubbed his stubble against your neck.

>YOU COULDN’T FUCKING HANDLE IT.

> He was so soft most of the time, cuddling you while watching movies, cooking together, dancing in the kitchen with you at 3 in the morning after he finished grading papers. The shift that happened when he would get flirtatious was dizzying.

> You were nervous though, Aizawa was a bit older than you, and obviously way more experienced that you. One night while you were curled up in bed together, you told him you were nervous about disappointing him when the time finally came. He sat up and turned a light on immediately and pulled you into his lap. He held you and stroked your hair and told you how much you meant to him, how you could never disappoint him, how much he wanted you, and how he was willing to wait however long you needed. He held you until he was sure you felt better about it, and then he held you until he was sure you were asleep. You were the most important person in the world to him, and he wasn’t gonna let you think anything was ever gonna change that.

> When you finally got tired of his teasing and felt like you were ready, you decided to get him back. Before he got home, you put on one of his long shirts as a dress and started getting dinner ready.

> When he walked through the door and saw that you were wearing nothing but one of his black button ups, he had to maintain every ounce of his self control to contain the rush of feral need that suddenly consumed him. Now it was HIS turn to assume you were being innocent. And man did you play it up. “What’s wrong Shota? Are you feeling okay?” And you bat your big beautiful eyes at him. He was going to have a stroke.

> It wasn’t until you bent over and he noticed you weren’t wearing anything under his shirt that he realized it was an invitation. He came up behind you, caging you in against the counter, and growled lowly in your ear, “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” He gently pushed his growing erection against your ass, making you gasp. Score.

> “W-what do you mean?” you looked up at him as innocently as you could. He took your hand and pressed it to the front of his pants. He groaned low in his chest, thankful for any friction. “Don’t play dumb with me, kitten. You know exactly what you’re doing. I think you should take responsibility.” You grinned.

> “Yes Sir,” he jolts at that, and you sink your knees and get to work undoing the fastenings on his hero costume. When his cock springs free, you eagerly give it kitten licks until he’s had enough. He grips you by your hair and gently guides your mouth down onto his cock. He’s big, bigger than you can take, but that doesn’t stop Aizawa from purposefully making you gag on him every so often. He really does get off on how innocent you are, the tears that hang in your eyes from gagging on his cock. He’s gonna cum soon if he’s not careful.

> After he’s had his fun making you suck him off, he pulls you up and carries you off to bed. No way he’s taking your virginity on the floor, he’s too much of a gentleman. And dinner, what dinner? Thank god nothing happened to be on the stove or in the oven.

> He sets you down in bed and kisses you, takes his shirt off of you and finishes ridding himself of his hero costume. He takes pride in getting you ready for him, relishing in your sweet noises and how wet you are for him. A fact that he teases you about. “S-Shotaaa~” you moan and clench down on his fingers. He smirks, “What happened to ‘Sir’, hmm? I liked that, you know...” All you can do is whine up at him in response.

> When you feel like you’re close to cumming, you whine louder and clench down harder and before you can reach your peak, he stops. You whine in frustration before he leans down and rumbles, “Oh no, kitten, the only way you’re cumming is if you cum on my cock.” You gasp and nearly convulse at his filthy words, but you’ve never felt like you needed him more.

> He fucks you gently, at first anyway. For as long as he can. He rolls his hips into you and angles his thrusts expertly, aiming for that spot inside you that’ll make your head spin. And he hits it. Every time. And your head DOES spin. And soon you can feel the pressure build again and you start whining again, “Sh-Shouta, please! I’m s-oh! So close!” He smiles, and decides to take pity on you. He pistons harder, faster, brings a hand to your core to rub circles against your clit and when you cum, you scream his name and he can’t take it anymore. He slams into you, chasing his own high and simultaneously extends yours. You’re seeing stars by the time he cums deep into you. He rolls over, bringing you with him. You lie on top of him and he strokes your hair, and you just hold each other for a while.

-Shinso-

> I wanna say this now, Shinso is Aizawa Jr. I’m so sorry, but its true. They’re both tired, overworked, cat lovers that just wanna come home and cuddle and pass out.

> He knows he’s your first boyfriend. You met at UA and pretty much bonded immediately. Now that you’re both pro-heros working for the same agency? It was only a matter of time before he made a move. And thank whatever higher power exists that you have the same schedule. More time for cuddles.

> HOWEVER! Don’t let the fact that he’s a cuddle-bug fool you. He frequently has to remember that you’re a virgin and you’ve never been in a relationship before, so you have no idea how much he’s affected by you answering your door on a Saturday morning you both had off wearing one of his hoodies that absolutely swallows you. Looking up at him smiling and yawning sleepily, rubbing one of your eyes and groggily asking, “What are you doing here so early? I thought we weren’t going out till tonight?”. He has to breathe deeply to stop himself from jumping you.

> Because much like Aizawa, seeing you so sleepy and soft and small and knowing how innocent and naive you are to all of the things you do that make him need you... is going to make him lose his mind. Quickly.

> Instead of an innocence kink though, this motherfucker has a corruption and a mind break kink. He wants to make it impossible for you to feel pleasure without him, he wants to make you need him desperately, forever. And he wants to do it without the help of his quirk. But that would all come in time, at the moment he has to stop himself from cumming in his pants because you’re bending over on your way to your room so you can change, stooping to pet your cat and his hoodie rode up your ass and he can see your lacy black panties and you were GOING to drive him insane long before he ever got the chance to make you his, he was sure.

> He had brought you coffee and suggested you just stay in all day since you both had such a late night. Watching movies and stuff. You know, normal stuff. He told himself he wasn’t going to try and make a move. Right? Right.

> But when you emerged from your room 45 minutes later, showered and changed, your hair still damp and a droplet of water drifting down your neck and landing in the dip of your collar bones, all he could think of was licking it up. How good your hair must smell, how your skin was still probably warm form the water... He was staring, and you pretended not to notice.

> You were nervous about not measuring up to his expectations. You’d seen the women he usually went out with, and how comfortable they were with their bodies and their sexuality. How beautiful they were. As far as you were concerned, you were nothing like them.

> He could see the gears turning in your head and the downturn of your mouth, and he asked you what was wrong. He motioned for you to come sit with him, and it wasn’t five seconds before he pulled you into his lap. After some coaxing, you let him know what you were worried about. He assured you that the reason he was so happy with you is because you weren’t anything like the women he had dated before. Because, not only were you far more beautiful than they were, they had also been conceited and cold, only dating him because he was an up and coming pro-hero that could get them into events so they could dump him for the first bigger hero they’d meet. He liked that you were soft and warm and he could trust you, that you had always trusted him, even despite his quirk.

> You talked for awhile, and as the morning sun drifted higher into the sky, you decided it was time to door dash some food. While he ordered it, you excused yourself the restroom. You needed to think. The heaviness of the conversation still weighed on you, and you’d never felt closer to him than you did now. It was time, you were sure. You wanted to give him everything he’d been waiting so patiently for, he deserved it. And so did you damnit, no more of this scaredy-cat bullshit! You gave yourself your best war face in the mirror before you exited the bathroom and going back to the living room where Shinsou was reclined on your couch. Head tilted back, resting on the pillow behind him.

> He was so beautiful. Lavender hair a wild mess, eyes closed and lashes fluttering softly. You wanted to kiss his neck suddenly, and unlike when urges like this usually happened, you didn’t shove the thought away. You quickly straddled him and, before he had the chance to question you, you began kissing up and down his neck softly. “K-kitty...” he groaned beneath you, gripping your waist, his hips jerking up against yours.

> After a while of your explorative kissing, he growled impatiently and flipped you over easily, pressing you into the couch. He kissed you like he might die if he didn’t, deep and slow and desperate. When he finally broke for air and looked at you, he felt his heart and his dick jump. Your flushed face and your eyes that were looking up at him through your eyelashes heavily, your mouth hanging open gasping and your kiss bitten lips, your brows softly cinched at the effort it took for you to remember you needed to breathe.

> He asks you if you’re sure you were ready, and when you nod dazedly up at him he doesn’t need any more convincing.

> He takes his time, he’s slow and methodical. He wants your first time to be an enjoyable experience. Something you can look back on fondly and remember how much he loved you, how good it felt, how comfortable you were. He wanted it to be better than his first time, drunk after a hero convention, with some woman who didn’t remember his name in the morning and never called him back. He pushed the thought away. He focused on you, on how perfect you were.

> When he finally thrusts into you, you think you want to feel like this forever. You tell him so, and beams with pride, pushing your pleasure further. Kissing your neck and praising you. Telling you how perfect you are, telling you all the things you do that drive him crazy, telling you that he’s never going to let you go, that you’re his forever and he’s yours.

> You cum together, and you think that everything in the world must have always been this beautiful. You spend the rest of the day cuddling, eating, and making love.

-Bakugo-

> No thoughts in this mans head. None. At least when it comes to romance. When you first start dating, you had to make the first move cause his oblivious ass just thought you were challenging him. You had to explain to him that what you were actually doing was called “flirting”.

> So when it comes to your first time, you know you’re gonna have to make the first move there too. He fears rejection, so he avoids the things he really wants the most. Which in this case is you whining on his dick.

> But he also knows you’re a virgin and he doesn’t wanna scare you, so he leaves it be. Trusting his fist to get the job done when he really needs to let off some steam. Either by punching shit or jerking off.

> One day, you do catch him jerking off, and you immediately start to (stupidly) think that you’re not enough for him, that he might leave you for someone who can give him what he needs. You don’t think he notices you having a mini panic attack in the hallway so you sneak back to the kitchen to catch your breath and think. Why HAD you waited this long? What were you waiting FOR? You guessed you had just been worried about not knowing what to do, about him getting impatient and annoyed with you for your lack of experience.

> Making your final decision, you square your shoulders and march yourself back to your shared room. You confidently open the door to find him ... waiting for you?

> “Tch, took you long enough. You done freakin’ out now?” He grumbles from his spot on the bed. You nod meekly and he opens his arms for you, an invitation you gratefully accept. He pets your head and continues grumbling, “ just as bad as shitty-hair, nobody ever knocks anymore. You shouldn’t be surprised when you just try to walk in like that...”

> He keeps petting your head until eventually you hit him with it. “‘Tsuki, I wanna... uhm...” you look up at him with pleading eyes hoping his quirk somehow suddenly allows him to read your mind.

> It doesn’t. “ You wanna what? C’mon, spit it out.” No thoughts, remember?

> You huff and blush and finally squeak out, “Wanna make you feel good, ‘Tsuki...”

> His brain stops working momentarily. When he catches back up, he smirks. “Seriously? It just took you gettin’ jealous over my left hand for you to be ready?”, he teased. You stick out your tongue and he grabs your jaw, looks you dead in the eyes when he says, “I have something much more important for that cute little mouth to do.”

> Your eyes go wide at his suggestion, even though it really doesn’t surprise you. When Katsuki wants something he wants to go all out, no half-assing it. You nod nervously and he laughs at your apprehension, allowing you to shift down his body until you were face to face with his fly. You undid the button and zipper with shaky hands, and gently guide his dick out of his jeans.

> Beautiful is the first word to come to your mind. Beautiful and massive, just like the rest of him. He was easily over six feet tall, and built too so it really shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did. For a moment all you can do is look up at him from your place below him, your big strong hero. You melt a little and you notice him smirking down at you again, “What ‘ya lookin’ at, princess?”. He gently strokes your cheek while you admire him, “You.” you reply dazedly. His smirk widens to a bear malicious grin, “Me? How come?”. A feeling you’re not totally familiar with, but you’re pretty sure is called submission, fills you suddenly and you feel warm and content. “You’re perfect,” you bat your eyelashes and bite your lip as you gently start to stroke your hand up and down his length.

>He controls his breathing, because he really can’t handle you looking so cute with his cock that close to your pretty little face. “‘Tch, and? What’s got you so worked up about it?” You giggle and nuzzle your face into the base of his cock and look up at him innocently. “I’m just glad I’m yours,” you smile and lick him from base to tip before gently taking him into your mouth. You’d read enough smut online to at least have some idea how to do this.

> He almost cums when you say that you’re glad to be his. His, he grins. He doesn’t get to think about that for too long though because your warm, wet tongue is sliding up his shaft and then your pretty little mouth engulfs him and he thinks he might hyperventilate if you keep looking up at him like that. He’d almost say it wasn’t fair, but then you start moving and he thinks that he could actually die happily from the warm bliss that fills him while he watches you try to take more and more of him down your throat.

> This is much more fun than you thought it would be, especially because Katsuki keeps letting out those little sighs and groans, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. You hollow out your cheeks and suck a bit harder before taking a deep breath and relaxing your throat as much as possible. You lower yourself down as far as you can, pushing past the ring of muscle in the back of your throat before moving down further. You feel him lay his hand gently, encouragingly, on the back of your head. You’re surprised when you find your nose nestled in the light blonde fuzz at the base of him and you stick your tongue out to lap at the underside.

> He jolts when you begin your descent. You’re not really gonna try to deep-throat him, are you? He watches you, mesmerized. No ones ever even tried, always saying he was way too big. It felt way too good. He laid a hand on the back of your head to ground himself, quickly realizing he had to control himself so that he didn’t clench his fist in your hair or shove you down all the way and hold you there. When you reached your goal, he sighed. Your throat felt perfect wrapped around him, just like he knew it would. When he felt your tongue sneak out of your mouth and lick, he thanked whatever creator there was that your tongue was long enough to reach his anchor. when you start to move your head up and down, he can only take it for so long before he’s thrusting up into your mouth. When you gag on him, that’s it, he has to pull you off him before he grips your head and suffocates you on his cock.

> He’s nearly at the point of begging, but thankfully, mercifully, you seem to get the idea. You wipe your mouth and lie back on the bed, giggling at his abruptness and he growls in response. He kisses you, and praises you, telling you how good you are, how much he needs to be inside you as he undresses you. You’re surprised at how automatically your legs open for him, and you tell him how much you need him inside of you as well. You feel so empty all of a sudden. Until one of his thick fingers finds your molten core and gathers some of your slick before sinking into you and you gasp.

> He continues to kiss and praise you as he works you with his fingers. You whine and moan and beg, it’s like music to his ears. When he thinks you’re ready, he lines himself up with your entrance, sliding up and down, grinding against your clit briefly before continuing. “I wanna hear you beg for it, princess.” and fuck, did you beg. A beautiful litany of filthy fucking words fell from your mouth, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He sinks into you fully in one thrust, gripping your open legs for stability.

> At first you can’t speak, you can’t make any noise at all. You feel so unbelievably full, and you look up at him and his eyes are clenched shut and his jaw is set. He’s holding himself back. He’s trying to be gentle with you because it’s your first time. He really is very sweet when he wants to be. You raise a shaky hand to his face and he leans into it. He met your eyes and you watch as his control falters when he sees you bent in half like this. You smile, “Katsuki, please”, is all you can say. It seems to open the flood gates. For all his self control, he pounds into you mercilessly and it fills you with the most intense feeling of ecstasy. “F-fuck ‘Tsuki, you feel s-so fucking good,” you moan and gasp brokenly.

> He cums hard. Grunting, growling, and near snarling the whole way through. You’re seeing stars, even though you haven’t cum. It had felt so fucking amazing, and you’re more than content with that. Katsuki is definitely not however, and is intent on eating you out until you beg for mercy. He always takes such good care of you.

#dabi x reader #dabi smut #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #shinsou x reader #shinso smut #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut

[zuffer-weird-girl]

A villain is always a villain.

LISTEN. THERE IS SO MANY TRIGGER ON THIS THERE IS NO HAPPY ENDING OR NO FLUFF I SWEAR IS PURE ROTTEN ANGST DONT READ IT.

"I'm sorry sir. But even with your quirk, your wife would suffer immense pain over the procedure and die on the bed.... and... my sincerity apologizes... but she's got only one week."

He couldn't exactly describe what he felt when those words from the doctor left his mouth and arrived to his ears. He didn't had even know when he had overhauled his gloves and the chair he was in making him fall on the ground and come back to his senses...

Everything... was falling apart. If he was only fast enough to get the symptoms appearing... he could have prevented, it would have caused you an huge amount of pain but at least you would've have survived.

Why hadn't he noticed it?

Because he was living his dream.

Because you two married. Had beautiful moments together... and just about one year and a half ago had a son. A health kid.

He was happy. He even talked about it with Pops, and the old man suggested for him to leave the Hassaikai for a while to raise his kid on a peaceful environment, but he refused. Knowing Pops hadn't had any contact with that good for nothing daughter of his neither the possible granddaughter he had. So he could give the man some of his immensely gratitude towards him.

But suddenly... everything was falling apart.

First it was the frequent coughing, even your baby was worried but soon you waved them off saying it was just a cold. Chisaki fooled himself on believing on that.

After all he was so happy.

Then, your voice started to change to a more forced and rough one. He started to worry but no, no... his perfect wife, such a angel, couldn't be on any danger... it was just a flu. He would take care of her.

Despite having germophobia, his love for you was just as strong. He wore masks and gloves, sure, but he still was willing to spend time on the same room and give you the comfort you needed.

Then it happened... one day on his office... he heard the coughing fit and suddenly a loud crying from hsi son made him storm out of his office to find you on the ground, a paper close to your hand covered in blood.

He never drove so fast on his life to the hospital.

And now... there he was, staring at the ground as he clinched on his wife's weak hand on the bed with the machines attached to her. His son, as innocent as ever was playing with his mother fingers.

The chemotherapy wasn't enough. The quirks from teh doctors couldn't help her, he couldn't help her...

The nurses came in and told that visit time was over... he had to drag his sobbing and crying two years old out of the room.

His tears were falling as well, but he had to be strong. He had to be the oen who had to be a pillar for his own child.

Pops had to be the oen explaining to Kan the situation and why his father seemed so sad and distant. The kid entered his office at night, sniffling and looking at his father's eyes with his (E/c).

Kan cried himself to sleep on his father chest, and Kai didn't mind it the snot or tears on his messed up black dress shirt. The documents on his desk were soaked with his own tears anyway.

"You're making a big deal about this." Your weak voice interrupted his memories and he scowled at your weak serene expression and smile.

"Dont. Not with this." He murmured as he watched his son give his painting to his mom... he wiped your tears away as you hugged your Kan, kissing his dark brow hair as the little boy murmured his love for you.

At the next day at the evening you let out your last breath and he cried and screamed on the bed until his voice was gone.

.

.

.

"You have to sleep boss." He heard Chrono as he blinked, the bags under his eyes were huge as he sighed.

"I can't. I need to go after those debtors of the drugs and then take care of Kan. He hadn't been eating very well since..." he couldn't help but almost choke up at remembering.

"... how about this? I go after them? Spend time with my favorite nephew."

"... you have some of my gratitude Chronostasis. Dont let the old man know about this, he would never stop talking about it. We need the money and the respect we need."

"Got it."

"And dont call my son your nephew. Is disgusting." He spoke while exiting the office as Kurono snorted.

"I am his godfather though."

He sighed as he hot upstairs and found Kan with equal sad and depressed eyes as his starting at a frame he held with his tiny fingers.

"Kan." The kid gasped and put the frame back and bowed to his father with a sniffle "... come on. I guess, both of us could use some rest."

Kan simply nodded and followed his father but was surprised to see Kai picked him up and brought him to sleep by his side.

.

.

.

He felt something stiring on his side and saw his son leaving the bed.

"Bathroom." Kan muttered as Kai nodded and got up only to stop at hearing "No da. I go, you sleep."

This kid reminded him so much of you with this goddamn kindness.

He waited a few minutes until he got up and followed the kid, enough to not make a appearance and give his son some confidence but he still had only two years.

... or maybe he just didn't felt like leaving his son alone.

But just as he entered the hall he felt something hitting the back of his head hard enough to make him fall face plant on the ground.

"Restrains his hands! His quirk can kill you with one finger of his on your skin!" He heard a voice and immeditaly recognize one of the debtors, and also someone caging his hands on a manner he couldn't even move them.

Must be some sort of dicease.

"Now, mister sucessor." A man with a missed tooth crouched down to his level and grabbed his hair to lift his head to his eye level "We could use some of negotiating eh?"

He only glared at the man before he muffled his scream of pain when the guy slammed his face on the floor hard enough to make a bruise.

"Cooperate with us and then we will get out of here. You give the drugs and leave us with our money with a bit of yours, and no one gets hurt."

"Go.. to hell-ARGH-!" Something pierced his abdomen hard enough to blood to spill and land on the floor.

This had to happened when Chrono had to get all the guards to collect cash and Pops on a damn convention, of course.

"Wrong answer yakuza. I'm gonna make it simple for ya, where is the money you all have?"

"If you think I will give you information..." he hissed at the knife piercing more "Then you must be just as dumb as your parents on the thought of making you, you sick bastard."

His head was slammed on the ground and it was enough to break his nose... just as the guy was about to slam it again a sound of a door creaking open made his eyes snap wide open and look at the figurine with equal wide eyes and clutching the door at seeing his father layed on the ground.

"K-K..Kan...." he eyed his son in fear as sweat and hives started to appear on his skin.

"Daddy?" Kan muttered in fear and the man was smilling widely at the sign.

"Oh? He is your daddy?" Kai started to throw his body around and tried to move but only could scream at his son to run but it was to late since the guy grabbed the boy by his nape. "My, those eyes you have.. are they from your mother?"

Kan trembled as Kai shouted profanities at the man as his helper held him down.

"..Hm. I heard that your wife died man.. rough. Being a single dad and the future owner of this big hellhole you got here." The man made two of his finger fuse and form into a sharp kinda like knife and cut the cheek of the boy, making the boy flinch and whimper.

"LEAVE MY SON OUT OF THIS. DONT TOUCH HIM WITH YOUR DIRTY AND INFECTED HANDS!"

"Then let's make a deal?" He holded the kid down and aproached the object to the boy's throat. "The life of the son of the woman you loved is more worth than some couple of cash eh?" He chuckled darkly.

He was about to agree until Chrono opened the door with the eight precepts and saw the scene.

"Fuck-"

"KAN GET DOWN!" Kai manage to shout at his son the house was filled with shooting and the eight precepts attacking the subbordinates of the debtor who had held his son captive.

Chrono shot the guy who was holding him down and he quickly activated his quirk to kill the man and get up only to his eyes to widen at seeing his son being dragged down by the debtor and some other muscular guy as the kid screamed for him and kicked his legs to try to get away.

He ran out and was about to slam his hand his hand on the ground without any gloves until he heard the shout to stop and his eyes widen at seeing the man holding a grenade up and his son caged on his arm.

"PAPA!"

"One more movement and your kid gets turned into pieces along with us OVERHAUL!"

He panted in desperation and raised his hand up.

"G... Give my son back." The man laughed as his sunglasses, in the middle of the night using sunglasses what a idiot, fell down.

"LOOK AT THE DESPERATION IN YOUR TONE OVERHAUL! IS PRICELESS!"

The sound of his laughter dissapeared when all four them heard sirens and sounds of heroes coming.

"Boss, I prefer to die than to go to jail." The muscular man mumbled as the debtor gave a little sick giggle before tilting his head at Chidaki, looking him dead in the eyes as he hugged Kan close to his chest and pulled the trigger of the grenade.

"See ya in hell, Overhaul."

"KAN-!" He shouted and ran but teh explosion made him his body slam back on the house, losing his conciousness and hearing only the buzz on his ears and the sound of.. Pops? Kurono? Calling his name as he blacked out.

.

.

.

He woke up with a groan and immeditaly put his hand on his face, feeling a nasty scar but then repairing it but soon widening his eyes.

"KAN!" He screamed and burst out of the room only to be found at the hospital he was starting to hyperventilate until he felt a old and familiar hand grab his shoulder.

"Kai you-"

"WHERE IS HE?!" He grabbed the man's shoulders as tears fell from hsi golden eyes "WHERE IS MY SON?!"

"Chisaki please-" the moment the elder went to speak Kai eyes dropped on a a gurney, small with a sick person dragging her to the morgue... with a tag wrapped around her wrist that looked like a child's... written his son's name on it.

"No... No. no no nO NO NO THAT IS MY SON YOU FUCKING IDIOT DONT!" he was about to kill the poor nurse until Pops grabbed onto him and made him calm down by force as the man howled like a terrible and horrendous beast.

.

.

.

"Kai... stop with this. We dont deal with drugs."

"Chisaki we have rules to follow. That's not how we work around here."

"Have you lost your humanity?"

... yes.

Yes he did lost it. The moment his wife and son were taken away from him...

He wasn't a human anymore.

He had one goal now, and he would make it real.

Even if it meant the yakusa, the heroes, Eri... everyone suffered just as much as he had.

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #bnha villains #overhaul #chisaki kai #kai chisaki x reader #bnha villains x reader #zuffer writings

[cyncerity]

Moth au pt 4!!

Sorry this took forever lmao

I kinda forgot about it for a bit there. End of the school year kinda messed with my head.

Tw: moths (do I even have to say that at this point), and swearing

The moths facial features and expression, they reminded him so much of...they... it looked just like...

“What the hell?”

Tommy heard Tubbo speak, but was in to much shock to comprehend it. He was hyperventilating as the hybrid seemed to observe him. He supposed some part of him should be relieved. After all, if Tubbo could tell Tommy looked weird, that would mean that Jack’s stupid potion didn’t do anything to affect how others saw him. But all he could see was a giant face and hands in his field of vision, teeth that could crush him and fingers as long as his wingspan that could smash him with no effort. The perimeters of Tommy’s vision blurred and darkened as the panic set on.

The giant fingers began to reach for him, and in a blind panic he pushed then away and stumbled back. “Get the fuck away, please stay bac-“

Tommy cut himself off, screaming in pain as he lost his balance and fell back on his injured wing. He quickly clamped his jaw shut to distract himself from the pain only to hear more screaming.

Confused, he looked up to see Tubbo across the room, paled and shaken.

“What the actual fuck...” the goat hybrid muttered, his breath support lost from screaming. “Did you just...did you just talk?!”

Tommy forgot about all of his pain for a second. He heard him, Tubbo heard him, Jack had been wrong, he could still be heard. Tommy jumped up, adrenaline pumping through him as he ran to the edge of the table, wing injury be damned, he was gonna talk, actually talk, to Tubbo.

He was finally gonna prove he was still human.

Tommy yelled out to Tubbo from the edge of the table as Tubbo looked on, terror eventually fading into confusion. Tommy continued to yell for what felt like hours but could logically only have been a few minutes before he noticed Tubbo had stopped moving. He stood still in the middle of the room, just a few feet away from the table, and just stared at Tommy. The moth hybrid eventually stopped yelling, the adrenaline wore off and the pain of his wing setting back in. If Tubbo had heard him, there’s no way he wouldn’t have said anything by now. So what went wrong? Why couldn’t he-

Tommy thoughts were frozen as Ranboo frantically scrambled down the ladder from the attic of the small cabin, looking extremely worried. “I heard a scream, are you alright Tubbo?”

“The moth just...It just talked, Boo, I swear, it fucking talked, and it... it sounded like him.” Tubbo stuttered, pointing at Tommy. Neither of them needed to clarify who the “him” was, there was only one “him” it could’ve been. The him who they’d been trying and failing to find for what seemed like forever. Ranboo looked at Tubbo for a second before heading over to the table, placing a hand on it and leaning slightly to look directly down at Tommy. Fuck, he forgot how tall Ranboo was normally, this just made it so much worse.

“So, can you talk...?” Ranboo asked questioningly. Tommy tried to get over himself as he started to yell to Ranboo as well. Tommy supposed if he were human, he would’ve looked like a madman, jumping around and screaming like his life depended on it. Still, though, Ranboo just laughed a bit at Tommy’s struggles as he looked back to Tubbo.

“Sorry Tubbo, I don’t hear anything. You should get to bed, maybe you’re hearing things. We’ve been looking for him for a while anyways, maybe your brain just wants to hear him badly enough that you think a moth can talk.”

Tommy’s heart shattered as he saw Ranboo turn away from him to continue talking to Ranboo, finally realizing who the “he” they meant was. Tubbo didn’t even know how close to finding Tommy he was. How didnt Ranboo hear him? Tubbo had heard him when he was at the desk? Why didn’t...

Height. Ranboo was taller than Tubbo. Tommy was small and Tubbo had been closer, so he heard him better. All Tommy had to do was get close enough. He immediately tried to fly up to one of their ears, but fell back down immediately. Fuck, right, the damaged wing. Tubbo seemed to notice his flailing though, as he cut Ranboo off mid sentence and pointed at Tommy.

“Aw, what happened to your wing, little guy?” Ranboo cooed at him. Fuck, Tommy hated this. When he got back to normal size he’d punch Ranboo for babying him.

“Michael got his hooves him for a bit, I think he’ll be fine, though. But it’s not like we can release him back into the wild with a busted wing, he’d be eaten pretty quick.” Tubbo replied, making Tommy let out a breath of relief. He at least got to stay in the warm house, he didn’t know what he’d do if he had to survive the mobs in the middle of the night. And Tubbo called him a “he” since the first time they saw him like this. He was so, so close to figuring it out-

Tommy’s train of thought was cut off as a cage slammed around him. He screamed and banged on the walls of the lantern that he had just been enclosed in as the enderman hybrid lifted it higher and hung it from a chain on the ceiling.

“There, that should keep it safe then. Michael can’t reach it here.” Ranboo said, turning to his platonic husband. “Just, please, promise me you’ll get some sleep.”

Tubbo just nodded and smiled slightly at Ranboo as he went upstairs, leaving Tubbo unknowingly alone with Tommy. Tommy pressed himself against the latern to better see Tubbo, who was looking back up at him.

Tubbo sighed. “I suppose we should get you something to eat then, huh? Jack probably wasn’t feeding you much, knowing him.” Tubbo rummaged around a nearby chest for a minute before realizing he didn’t know what moths ate, so he settled on picking up some hay and bread. He walked over to the lantern that held the moth and after struggling to get it off the chain (god why did he have to pick such a tall husband), he held close to his face again just to see if Ranboo was right. Maybe he was just going crazy. There’s no way that this random moth looks like Tommy...right?

But as he leaned close to the cage, he saw the same thing. A humanoid insect staring at him as it banged on the glass in front it...him? Tubbo wasn’t sure anymore. He opened the glass holding the moth-boy-whatever it was to place some food down for it as it suddenly jumped out.

—————————

Tommy jumped out of the lantern, scrambling over Tubbo’s hand and landing on his shoulder as he cupped his hands around his mouth.

“TUBBO ITS ME IM HERE YOU’RE NOT CRAZY!!” He screamed into the goat hybrids ear, causing the giant to flinch at the sudden volume with no warning. Tommy was suddenly grabbed off the shoulder and pulled in front of Tubbo’s face, which looked back at him with a mixture of confusion and awe.

—————————

‘There’s no way’, Tubbo thought. He had thought it sounded like him, even looked like him, but it couldn’t be him, could it? The moth seemed to go still once he grabbed him, maybe from shock, maybe waiting for some sort of response, Tubbo couldn’t tell. He looked the smal hybrid over again before speaking, barely above a whisper.

“...Tommy?”

The moth hybrid’s antennas perked and wings lifted, and Tubbo was close enough to see relief forming on his face and tears threatening to pour from his eyes;

“Hey big man.”

———————————————————————

Pt. 4!! I hope it was worth the wait!

Btw, always open to asks and suggestions about where to take the story from here!

#cyncerity #g/t #mcyt g/t #mcytg/t #mcyt gt #mcytgt #moth au #moth!tommy #tw moths #tiny!tommy #giant!tubbo #giant!ranboo

[nonagesimus]

happy birthday! are you still taking prompts? something sam and cas discussing the whole casifer thing maybe?

if you wanted something more like. productive and healthy, I am sorry. again this is roughly part of touch verse (but all you need to know is that they're in an established relationship).

tw for references to sexual assault (Toni Bevell) and slight unreality in the aftermath of the incarceration in 12x09

(AO3 Link)

-

The basement door had shut, the sound echoing around the walls, and Sam had been left with his family -  Dean, and Cas, and the not-ghost of his mother, which – all of it was a story someone was going to need to tell at some point soon. But with just them, the British Men of Letters gone, he could slouch. Sag down. Not worry so much about letting the last couple of days show.

Cas said, “Sam,” soft and sad. “Let me heal you.” Then he stepped towards him, one hand reaching out and- and-

He’d been keeping his distance. They’d both been keeping their distance, or at least it had seemed like they had been. Maybe it hadn’t been enough time to tell, between Cas being Cas again and the ambush in the bunker. Because Cas was Cas again, Sam knew that, had known that, had held onto that like a lifeline and-

Cas reached out to heal him and he flinched. Froze. Sucked in a breath and held it because otherwise he was going to hyperventilate. Cas’ hand paused too, kept moving only when Sam nodded to him. A rush of grace healing him, then Cas stepped back, and Sam slowly let the breath out. Pushed himself upright, and Cas withdrew further, going to Dean. Sam flexed his newly whole foot against the floor and didn’t look at them.

There was a conversation happening. Mary - Mom? He didn’t know what to call her - was watching him like a hawk.

He needed to be outside. Out of this basement. The Brits had to be gone by now. He could hope they were gone. Mind made up, he strode to the steps - maybe Dean said his name, but his ears were ringing a little - and then up and out.

Daylight washed over him. Something in him relaxed, at the feel of sun on his skin again. It felt real. Real real, not the daydream of a bed, somehow both cloying and ephemeral. This was just the sun, warm on his skin, a reminder that the world was still there. He shut his eyes, breathed deep, listened to boots clomping up the steps behind him.

He already knew it was Dean, but hearing his voice say, “Sam,” before his hand clapped onto Sam’s shoulder still helped. “Ready to go home?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, opening his eyes again. Mary was with Dean, and Cas was behind them, eyes searching.

“I’ll meet you there,” he said, nodding towards them, and he walked away first.

Dean, thankfully, kept going like nothing was awkward. Jerked his head towards the road. “Car’s this way. You good on bare feet or you want me to go get it?”

If Dean went for the car, Mom would probably stay with him. Sam couldn’t tell if he desperately wanted that or wanted to shy away, so he said, “I’m good to walk.” It would be good to move, anyway.

Dean kept up the chatter all the way to the Impala. Part clear relief, part recognising Sam wasn’t up to talking yet, and the silence needed to be filled.

“We’re about six hours out from the bunker,” he said, as they finally approached. “So, you’ve got time to catch a nap if you want to stretch out in the back. Unless you want the passenger side?”

Sam shook his head. “I’ll take the back.”

He did fall asleep there, listening to Dean and Mom talk in the front, an odd parody of his childhood. Like he’d slipped somehow slightly to the left, some world just adjacent to the one he’d grown up in. Shuddered awake as the car pulled into the bunker garage, took a moment to reassess. Still Dean driving, Mary in the passenger seat. Body still whole, after being healed. Feet still bare, clothes still crusted with sweat and blood. He sat up carefully, rubbed a hand over his face to clear away some of the grogginess.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty, you’re up,” Dean said. “Did they feed you in there? I can make you some food.”

They hadn’t, but Sam’s stomach rolled at the idea of eating. “I think I want to shower first,” he said.

“Yeah, dude, you reek,” Dean said. “Go clean up, I’ll get started on food.”

He hadn’t been planning on going back out but showered, in clean clothes, he thought Dean and Mary deserved that. Proof of life. Put on a good show, eat something, take part in the conversation. Something about the way Mom kept glancing between them twinged something - he thought about when he’d come back. Before he’d remembered, a year and half of blank space, Dean and Bobby both watching him with a weight he couldn’t parse.

It was something to focus on, and he took her Dad’s journal, and tried to say the right thing, and when she hugged him he almost broke.

So when he got back to his room and Cas was there, he was already fractured.

It wasn’t an intimate tableau. Cas was just standing by his dresser, the door to the room open, waiting. He swallowed hard, shook off the arrested momentum, finished walking inside.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Sam,” Cas said. Grave, and soft, and concerned. His hands twitched like he wanted to reach out. Sam looked away, felt tension fill his shoulders. “Are you alright?”

The least Sam owed him was honesty. “No,” he said, “but I don’t think that’s anything you could help with. Right now.”

Cas’ face only got graver, and Sam hadn’t really meant it like that. That it was Cas in particular that couldn’t help, but he couldn’t quite grasp the words to explain.

“I understand,” Cas said. “If that changes…”

“I’ll let you know,” Sam said, not sure how he’d be able to tell. “It’s not- you’re not- I’ll be fine, this was just-“ He shook his head. Just physical, but it hadn’t been. Not Cas, but it was. He didn’t even have thought, he was down to sentence fragments and a hollowed out feeling in his chest.

“I want to help,” Cas said.

“You-“ said Sam, “He-“ and he didn’t have to specify who he was talking about.

Cas looked wrecked. Looked ashamed, and part of Sam thought, good, and part of him wanted to bury his face in Cas’ chest and never let go, and all of him felt wrong.

He took a deep breath.

“When she started,” he said, “When she had me in that basement.”

Cas said, “Sam,” and Sam help up a hand to stop him.

“I told her. I told her I’d been tortured by the Devil himself,” his voice was more even that he expected it to be. “So, what did she think she could do to me?”

Cas’ hands twitched again. He didn’t reach out. Sam couldn’t tell if he was grateful or not.

“And I was right, y’know?” He shook his head. “She couldn’t do to me in two days what he could in two minutes. And what he could do with your face.” It looked like Cas was going to speak again so he shook his head again, cutting him off. “And I get it, Cas, I do, I know why you said yes. I just-“ His voice cracked finally. Throat clicked shut.

“I understand,” Cas said. “I- if you want space?”

Sam nodded, guilty at the helpless look on Cas, face. “I think space would be a good idea.”

Then Cas was gone too, and he was alone.

It hadn’t been a lie. Not really. Lucifer - the name tasted like stomach acid even when he was just thinking it - could take him to pieces far more efficiently than Toni Bevell could. And Sam couldn’t stop seeing it, the tilt of his head, the line of his jaw, the curve of his smile on Cas’ mouth when he’d reached into Sam’s chest, ready to close that fist and detonate. It was there all the time in the corner of his vision but-

But.

The door to his room shut behind Cas and even as he breathed a sigh of relief, her voice whispered, Was it good for you? into his ear.

His skin crawled. He felt dirty but he’d already showered, and the comfort would be nice but he couldn’t take another body in his bed.

—

Sam broke through the trees, saw Cas, and didn’t think before he went crashing into him. It had- they hadn’t- It had still been tense. Before Dean and he had gotten arrested. Sam had still been holding his distance, a little, Cas hadn’t been staying in his room like he used to, it had been…

There had been an equilibrium, if one that pleased neither of them.

But that was before the- the time. Sam couldn’t put a word to how much. The cell door had shut behind him and he’d taken in the concrete walls, the buzzing fluorescent lights, the quiet and- He didn’t need to count days. Days would pass with him or without him. He’d eaten when they gave him food, and shut his eyes when he wanted to sleep, and done push ups when he felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin.

Tried to remember some of his college classes to pass the time. Twelve years ago, give or take a couple hundred. He didn’t remember much.

But they were out, and then in a forest that felt hyper-real, where the sky felt too far away, where Sam’s focus had to narrow down on getting out. Blood in his veins, breath in his lungs, cold steel in his hands. Cas appearing out of the trees like a dream.

Not a dream, Sam went crashing into him and he was solid, and warm, and holding Sam as tight as Sam was holding him.

A breath caught in his lungs. He somehow found strength to hold even tighter. Saw Mom over Cas’ shoulder. Hugged her too.

(It was bittersweet, it was probably going to be the last time, he didn’t want to explain it, Dean thought it was going to be him but Sam wasn’t letting him do that, it was going to be Sam, it was, it was, until it wasn’t, until Mom, until Cas’ blade plunged through Billie’s chest, and the broken deal felt bitter but Sam-

Sam was alive.)

The bunker was a relief and a cage. Familiar, and closed in, and concrete walls again. The buzz of the lights.

It didn’t smell like the cell had. Sam breathed in.

Cas was following him again. Trailing where Sam went, watching him like he was going to be tested on it. Like he didn’t know what to say. Neither did Sam.

He tried to ignore it. Showered, got into his own clothes again. Found Cas in his room, sitting on the chair beside his desk. It wasn’t unexpected. Something about it felt almost dreamlike. The forest, after the cell, that had been a shock to the senses. Too much, too different. The bunker, that was familiar. Even if he hadn’t been there in- in some amount of days. Definitely weeks. Maybe months. His mind shied away from the idea of asking. It wasn’t a dream though, he reminded himself.

“Sam?” He’d maybe been standing in the doorway too long. Cas looked concerned. “Should I go?”

He shook himself. “You don’t have to.” Moved further in to sit down on his bed. “Did you want to talk?”

Not the right thing to say - he saw Cas’ expression dim. “Yes, I- I’m so sorry, I couldn’t find you.”

“How could you?” Sam said, attempting a smile. “You were the one who hid us from angels in the first place.”

“I’m still sorry,” Cas said. “You were alone.”

“It’s not the worst thing I’ve been,” Sam said, which was true even if neither of them wanted it to be.

There was still something urgent in Cas’ eyes, so Sam lightly patted the bed next to him. Cas shifted to the bed. Sam felt the mattress shift underneath him.

A voice in his head whispered, was it good for you? and he tried to push it away.

Took Cas’ hand in one of his, but didn’t touch him otherwise. Didn’t look at him. He heard Cas let out a long exhale at the contact. Dry skin to dry skin, the one thing that didn’t feel like a dream.

“I let you down again,” Cas said, quietly, and Sam shut his eyes.

He wanted to say which time? He wanted to tell him it didn’t matter. Wanted to turn and pull Cas into his chest and hold him. He couldn’t quite get himself to move.

Cas said, “Sam?” again, and Sam realised he was gripping Cas’ hand so hard he could feel the bones grinding.

He let go. Folded his hands in his lap. “Sorry.”

Cas touched his arm. “You need rest.”

Sam nodded, but didn’t say anything. With his eyes shut the lights buzzing sounded like the cell.

“Why did you kill Billie?” he asked.

“Because I’m not losing you,” Cas said. “And I’m not losing Dean, and I’m not letting you lose your mother. None of you deserve that.”

“Yes we do,” Sam said. “All of us have cheated death. We need to stop at some point. I don’t- I don’t want anyone else to die for me.”

Cas’ fingers brushed his face and he flinched. Opened his eyes. Cas had frozen, hand still raised. The tips of his fingers were wet. Sam realised he was crying.

“I couldn’t let you,” Cas said. “I- After Lucifer, we never…” He shook his head. “You were gone, and I couldn’t find you. I wasn’t going to lose you again right after I found you. I didn’t want you to go through any more pain.”

“I know I should say thank you,” Sam said.

“You don’t have to,” Cas said. “I know you don’t want to.”

“I miss you, Cas,” he said. “I miss you all the time. I want us to work through this, I do, just-“ He broke off. The buzz of the lights was giving him a headache.

“Sam,” Cas said. “Sam, I would do anything-”

“Yeah,” Sam said, wetly. “Yeah, I know.”

That was always the problem. Someone who would do anything. Anything smelt like Dean’s blood soaking into carpet, felt like hellfire, felt like grace crackling through his hands. Sam didn’t want anything.

“I’m gonna get some coffee,” he said, after a valiant attempt at composing himself.

“Sam, you should sleep,” Cas said.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m gonna get some coffee.”

#supernatural #sastiel #sastiel fic #samcas #samcas fic #sam winchester #castiel #my fic #birthday prompts

[embrassemoi]

Makeup for Beginners • H.P

Summary: His scar is a constant reminder of death. It only makes sense that he would try to hide it. 

Pairings: Harry Potter x Ginny Weasley, hint of Deamus

Content: Throwing up, angst with fluff, nightmares, takes place during HBP

Author’s Note: Wrote this in... 10 mins? so there’s no spell check. 

DISCLAIMER: All original Harry Potter characters are owned and written by J.K. Rowling. I do not own any Harry Potter characters or the story. 

─────────────────────

The haunting pleads from his mother echo around, caging Harry as he’s forced to relive the traumatic death of his parents again.

Moments ago, he heard the thud of his father's body before the door was blasted open, a blinding white dusting the walls.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—"

Voldemort takes a step forward, agitated at her defiance. “This is my last warning—"

"Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy... Not Harry! Not Harry! Please— I'll do anything..."

A cold, shrilling laughter rings; familiar cat-like eyes flash blood red as unnaturally long fingers hold a wand, pointing directly at Lily’s chest. Within a split second, a flashing green light comes from the tip, bouncing off the walls and has Harry flinching.

Lily’s high-pitched screams pierce his ears before the sound of her limp body crashes to the floor.

Voldemort turns to Harry, smiling down maliciously. He draws closer to him, kicking his mother’s body to the side. His wand is now pointed at him, centred at his face. Harry begins to open his mouth, expecting a broken sob but all that escapes are the cries of a baby. Voldemort’s grin widens, his wand is drawn above his head.

“Avada Kedavra!” In a swift, zigzagging motion, a similar green bolt follows and—

He couldn’t take it anymore.

Harry’s body shoots up as he chokes on a strangled scream. His entire body shakes causing his bed to tremble, vibrating against the ground. The sticky feeling of cold and hot tears mixed as they dripped down his face. In his sleep, Harry managed to claw at his skin, red marks littered his knuckles and arms. Meanwhile, beads of sweat formed, causing his hair to stick against his forehead while the excess ran down the side of his neck. He frantically tries to blink the tears away. His first instinct is to grab his glasses and wand to arm himself as he directs it into the darkness, waiting for any intruders to attack.

He scans the room, a flurry of defensive spells dangle on the tip of his tongue.

The familiar red and gold sheets are pushed off of him while he sits upright in his four-poster bed; red velvet drapes hanging on each side. Close to the entrance of his dorm, posters of his and Ron’s favourite quidditch teams are plastered on. Various potted plants littered throughout the room, along with beautifully painted canvases. On his nightstand sat a few pictures of Ron, Hermione and his parents.

Looking to his right, Ron slept peacefully. He was snoring. Neville slept across from him while Dean and Seamus were sleeping together, cuddling.

Harry’s erratic heartbeats began to slow as he finally registers where he was.

See, an inner voice rings, it was another dream. You’re fine. You’re safe.

Harry drops his head into his hands as pure relief floods his body before it turns into guilt. The mark on his forehead burned, like how it always does after a nightmare.

Wiping his tears furiously, he tries to collect himself but it does little to help. He fights the bile barreling its way from the back of his throat.

In a rush, he swings his legs over the edge of his bed and runs to the bathroom. He manages to cast a silencing charm before opening the lid to the toilet and throws up. For the most part, he gags on air as he breathes in and out slowly, trying to prevent hyperventilation.

Harry scoots backwards until hitting the cool tiles of the bathroom wall. The sensation helps to bring down the burning sensation.

He’s beyond exhausted. His nightmares have become daily now. Every time he closes his eyes and allows darkness to surround him, all Harry could do is panic as relives the deaths he caused or will eventually cause.

His parents, Sirius, Cedric…

Some of his other dreams also conceit mainly of Ron and Hermione being hunted down and slaughtered by death eaters along with dreams of Ginny being tortured.

At this point, he’s so emotionally drained and overwhelmed as his sense fades in and out of course. His ears rang as the sound of his mother’s screams replays like a broken record.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—" He shakes and lightly hits his head in an attempt to clear his mind.

After a while, he picks himself up and rinses his mouth with cold water, splashing some onto his face.

A large mirror sits directly in front of him, the sight even causes Harry to stumble a bit. He looked worse than usual. His skin turned a ghostly pale, grey even. His eyes were sunken, dark circles underneath him as his eyes were slightly bloodshot.

And his scar… His ugly, vile, evil scar.

Harry found himself reaching up to touch it more and more. The raised skin was a constant reminder of death and he found himself picking at it in hopes that one day he would completely scrape it off.

Harry enters the main room again as he slides into bed. Tossing and turning for what seems like hours, he struggles to fall asleep. It’s the last thing he wants to do.

His eyes snap open again, growling in frustration. He grabs at his hair in the process, tugging down harshly. Throwing off his covers again, he slips his slippers on, walks up to his truck at the foot of his bed and pulls our invisibility cloak. Along with his glasses thrown on and wand in hand, Harry slips into the corridors.

He squints, momentarily blinded by the change in light. The moonlight was annoyingly bright as it coated the hallways.

Several secret passages rack through his mind before selecting one. Quietly, he walks towards it.

Behind the tapestry sat a window with a few blankets he forgot to remove from his last date with Ginny. He sinks, pressing his head on the window there as he brings his knees to his chest.

The twinkling stars shine magically in the dark as he tries to look for Sirius.

He swears it shines brighter than the rest.

The hours tick by and before Harry knows it, slivers of bright orange and gold appear on the skyline as he rushes back to his dorm. There he manages to sleep for about an hour before Ron shakes him awake, ready to start the new day.

─────────────────────

For the most part, Harry is stiff and robotic for the rest of the day.

His scar is bothering him. It’s redder than usual and his hand keeps darting up, trying to cover it. It did not help that images of dead bodies, along with imaginary scenarios of his loved ones dying ate at him. Fortunately, he begins to relax as he and Ginny’s Hogsmeade date neared.

He hardly registered when he disarmed the wards on the girl's dormitory as he stalked up to Ginny’s door, knocking.

She opens the door, rambling about how she was almost done and how he’d arrived early.

Her bright smile helps to bring him back a bit.

The room was empty, saved for the two as Ginny presses her lips to him softly. “I’ll be back.”

Harry blushes at her, nodding in a daze.

But when she pulls back, Ginny’s eyes scan his face, her brows knitting together tightly. She could see the dark circles, the tiredness. Her shand instinctively reaches up to cradle the side of his face. A moment goes by as realization sinks in, “Harry, we can stay inside today. How about we stay here?’

He stiffens slightly and she can feel it. Harry shakes his head and poorly tries to convince her, “I’m fine, truly.”

By no means does Ginny believe him judging by the way her eyes burn into him. Thankfully, she doesn’t press. She knows not to treat him like a porcelain doll.

Instead, she simply nods. Her head is held high before she makes her way back to the bathroom. “I’m almost done.”

Ginny pulls on her favourite jumpers, one that Harry gifted to her on a whim before she grabs a comb to brush out any tangles. Bored, Harry makes his way over to her, simply watching her as a swooping feeling settles in the pit of his stomach.

Ginny never failed to captivate him. He’s completely and utterly enraptured by her.

Although his attention is ripped away once she picks up a small glass bottle, opening it. An odd, smooth liquid that matches Ginny’s skin tone seeps out as she takes a stick with fur on it; dipping it into the liquid. She brings it back to her face, spreading it over a small area.

“What is that?” he asks. His head is tilted to the side as he picks it up from the counter.

“Hmm? Oh, that.” Ginny mumbles out. “It’s called foundation. It’s makeup— covers up marks like pimples or scars.”

“Brilliant.”

She continues to swirl the fluff fur brush over a scar she got while playing quidditch a few months ago. In seconds, the liquid blends into her skin flawlessly, covering up the scar completely.

Harry was beyond amazed. That stuff covered up scars better than some spells Madam Pomfrey or Hermione taught him.

Ginny finishes, looking up at him, “You ready?”

His eyes were still glued to the glass bottle. “Yeah… Hey, do you mind if I could borrow this?”

The redhead looks at him strangely. Harry never took interest in makeup before.

“Sure— keep it if you want.” He tucks it into his jean pockets while the two make their way out of the common room and string hand in hand on the cobblestone path, making their way to Hogsmeade.

─────────────────────

“Fuck!” he grumbles out. It was the next day and Harry woke up in another cold sweat. Luckily, this time he managed to sleep throughout the night with only thirty minutes left to spare before the shared dorm's alarm clock blasted.

This time, he heard his father mocking Voldemort and saw glimpses of Cedric’s body.

He felt like vomiting again.

Compared to yesterday night, his scar throbbed painfully. It was deeper in colour, resembling Voldemort’s eyes compared to the usual faint pink. A pounding headache started to pulsate in his temples as his fingers shot up, rubbing small circles into them.

Harry continued with his morning routine. He showered, brushed his teeth, washed his face, wore his school uniform and shoved his textbooks and parchment into his bag.

Out of the corner of his eye, the jeans he wore yesterday were thrown messily on a chair, piles of dirty clothes underneath it. He grabbed it, fiddling around with the pockets and pulled out the small bottle from yesterday.

His head swivelled in the direction of the bathroom. Staring at his reflection, he dropped his bags down. With clean fingers, he unscrewed the top of the bottle and tipped it like how Ginny did. Impatient, he shook the bottle a bit, tilting it more than necessary and accidentally spilled half of the liquid out and all over the sink.

He cursed under his breath before scooping a generous amount onto his fingertips. He rolled the foundation between his fingers, liking how silky it felt.

Unfortunately, Ginny’s skin tone was paler than his own. Nonetheless, Harry took his left hand and pushed back his messy hair. He brought his fingers to his scar, messily spreading the now warm liquid onto it. He failed to ask if he could borrow one of Ginny’s odd fluffy sticks to blend it out, as best as he could, he tapped the product on and blended it.

He treated it like finger paint and continued to smear it on his scar until satisfied with the coverage.

Once finished, he let his hair fall in his face again, making sure it still partially covered his scar. He cleaned up the messy and called out for Ron, using him to get ready. Without waiting, Harry made his way down the stairs and into the great hall for breakfast.

The smell of fried eggs filled the air as the clatter of plates and light chattered flowed. Hermione and Ginny were already seated at the Gryffindor table. Hermione’s eyes were glued to a large NEWT study textbook. Her eyes skimmed back and forth while Ginny babbled on about Care of Magical Creatures.

“Morning,” Harry says. His voice is still deep and raspy. He sets his bag down, taking a seat directly in front of the girls. He grabs a piece of toast, spreading butter lazily on it and manages to snag pumpkin juice. He’d been so caught up with his food that he hadn’t noticed Ginny and Hermione staring at him.

“Harry,” Hermione begins.

“Yeah?” He looks up at her.

Hermione’s eyes were filled with pity and worry, causing a spike of irritation to flare in him. He forced it down, “Um, Mione?

Ginny stans suddenly, picking up her bags. The rest of the students began to pile in as she looked around, seeming anxious.

They had noticed it immediately. Harry tried but failed to cover up his scar. Strands of hair were matted, sticking to the streaks of pale foundation which contrasted with his skin. You could still see smudges from his fingerprints left behind. He used too much product and it became clumpy, yet patchy. Despite the amount he used, the angry glow of his scar still managed to shine underneath.

“Come with me,” Ginny says.

“Okay. Where are we going?”

“My room.”

He tilts his head quizzically at her. “We have classes in a few?”

“We’re skipping first period,” she states.

Ginny speedwalks with Harry, avoiding most of the main pathways. Once there, she tells him to lay down on her bed. He does as told while fiddling around with his wand. Ginny disappears into the bathroom, shortly returning with an identical foundation bottle sitting on his counter. Additionally, she had a small bag and a few of those fluffy sticks.

She joins him on the bed, sitting crisscrossed. Her body is leaning over Harry’s head. She takes two blue hair clips and clamps back his black hair, pressing a wet cloth to his scar. She was removing the makeup.

Harry winced internally, a pang of shame hits him once his brain catches up and puts the piece back together. He tries to swat her hand away, defensively.

“Stop it.” She scolds gently, “I want you to listen, okay?’

He nods. She continues.

“When we’re trying to cover up, in this case, a scar that’s a different colour to our regular skin tone, we need to use something called a colour corrector.” Ginny pulls out three circular containers. One was orange, another green and the last one was purple. “This helps to cancel out any unwanted undertones and discolouration.”

She opens the minty green container. With a smaller fur stick, she coats it with green and paints it over his scar. The tickling sensation helps Harry to relax. His limbs loosen.

"Then," she continues, "We wait for it to dry. Sometimes I like to add powder on it before putting foundation on it— but we're going to skip that." She then picks up the foundation bottle, unscrewing the top as she casts a spell on it, making it several shades darker to match Harry. She picks the product up with a large brush, spreading it over his scar.

Ginny goes on to explain the other steps and gives makeup tips on how to cover other imperfections.

"There, finished. Would you like to see?"

Harry is silent. He doesn't know how to feel. Slowly, he shakes his head up and down before she passes him a hand-held mirror.

His eyes immediately dart to the scar; it's perfectly covered. Aside from the slightly raised skin, which would be hidden with his hair, onlookers wouldn't even know anything was there.

Ginny observes him quietly. "I'm not going to convince you that you don't need to cover it up," she gestures to his forehead, "If you want it covered, I'll do it and teach you how to do it yourself."

Harry never realized until now how attentive Ginny was to his needs.

At that moment, Harry's eyes glossed over. This time, he looks her in the eyes as an unfamiliar, overwhelming sensation washed over him. The scattering of her freckles and warm eyes causes an eruption of emotions. He’s never felt so loved before and he’s never seen someone look so beautiful inside and out.  Pushing himself up, he brings her into a crushing embrace. But before that, Ginny leaned forward, pressing her lips to his scar. Harry’s heart swells and he closes his eyes. He’ll still have to go through the horrors of the dreams and war, but at least just for a little while, he’s okay.

He’s completely and utterly enraptured by her.

#Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #harry james potter #harry potter x ginny weasley #ginny weasley #hp angst #harry potter and the halfblood prince #fanfiction #fanfic #potterhead #hermione granger #harry potter angst #Voldemort #Harry Potter fluff #Harry Potter imagines #HP #hogwarts #harry potter au #falling in love

[gaitwae]

It’s Fate •||• Loki x Reader

WORD COUNT: 3025

Loki stepped into the shadows of the forest, holding his breath and melting into his armor. He wasn’t sure if it was even worth it to go into the Forest of Ydraggsil. But the cosmos were born there, in the “branches” he had been taught about. Loki knew that the answer to his very soul was written in the songs the ruffling leaves sang. His heart hammered in his rib cage as he let out a shaky breath.

He scratched his palms with worry, closing his eyes in thought. He could prove that he was his brother’s equal . . . worthy of being more than just a Jotun. No matter what Odin had said, no matter what Frigga said, he was just not what either of them said. He couldn't be what Frigga had thought he was. He wasn’t even close enough to be as good as she thought. He was much more than Odin had said. Loki could prove that. He just needed to know...

Would it be worth it if he couldn’t?

Child, a beautiful voice of the Norns whispered. That startled him. The Norns were silent, spoke in riddles and curses. But he could just. . . . Tell. He hadn’t expected to hear that. She continued, What brings you to where souls are born and fate is scripted?

Loki swallowed, stepping in to the wood. “Uncertainty,” he says meekly, eyes welling with tears. “And losing the will . . . the will to live.” He sank to his knees. “I beg of you, help me find my place in the world.”

He knew that it was selfish to ask the Norns to give him things, things that not even they could change. He would be cursed for such confident brattiness. He held his head high in the sky, watching the cosmos conflict, purple and blue and green explode and tear at each other. Green smoke curled around his body. Loki had to refrain from panicking, trying his hardest not to scream in fear, not to sob from the pain of his broken soul.

The leaves rustled. He breathed deeply, his heart rate painfully fast. His neck hurt from the rush of blood. His heart kept crying out in the lonely longing for companionship.

Just a place in the world? Nothing else? She sounded. . . . Expectant. Like men who had braved the branches before had always asked for proud things. Wisdom; strength; a lady’s hand. Loki just wanted not to be alone.

A tear slips from his eye. “Give me my glory back. . . . Give me someone who will love me. . . .”

Loki Laufeyson, the Norns whispered with a reassuring tone, you’ll find someone who loves you. It’s fate.

Loki swallowed, gasping some. That was a lie; wasn’t it? It had to be. He wiped his eyes. He sat there, staring at the ground. One day, he would. One day. He tried to swallow his fears. But it didn’t work.

The cosmos rippled again, a woman’s laugh ringing through his ears. Not the Norn who had spoke, it wasn’t Hers. This laugh. . . . It stung. Loki covered his ears. No one he cared for loved him back. He started to hyperventilate. The laughing got louder and louder.

No. No. “Please. . . . Make it stop,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. The smoke curled around his body. His skin turned blue.

“You’re a dirty, evil Jotun,” Thor’s voice taunted somewhere. Loki stood, looking around for his brother. “Did you really believe that the Norns would help you?”

“Stop this illusion!” he pleaded. Loki spun around, hoping to find something. This had to be a lie. “Stop!”

“What illusion, my son? You’re seeing the truth,” Odin called, coming from a different direction. He turned toward the sound, hoping that his father wouldn’t scoff at him, punish him. Tears fell faster. Streamed. His father’s cold voice.

“Father—,” Loki tried, caving in and panicking.

“I’m not your father!” Loki flinched, raising his arms in protection as he stumbled back from the invisible people pushing him.

“No!” Loki cried. “NO!”

---------- -*- ----------

I sat bolt right up in my bed, chest heaving and sweat drenching my body. I looked over to my side. A beautiful woman. My panic melted quickly, but my fears didn’t. I was next to my fiancée. She gently pushed me back down.

“Loki, shhh,” she soothed. “It was all a dream. You’re safe.” I rested my head on her shoulder. She ran her hands through my hair affectionately.

“Oh, Bryleigh,” (Bry-lee) I sigh, hugging her gently. “It was the same dream as last time. . . . With th-the forest . . . you have no idea—”

Her hazel eyes and blonde hair were strangely lit from the moonlight in the window. I had never been more grateful for her. I sigh again, kissing her once, twice, three times. Bryleigh pulled away, resting her forehead against mine.

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep. I love you,” she said, rubbing my back. “We have to both work tomorrow, so we should go back to sleep.” I nodded in agreement. I would have to explain to my secretary, (Y/N) why I was late.

Oh, no. I sat up. I practically scrambled to get dressed. “Honey, what are you doing?” Bryleigh asked. I checked my cellphone. Truly a magical mortal instrument, the cellular telephone. 2:35. I still had thirty minutes.

“Picking (Y/N) up at the airport,” I said, my tongue between my teeth as pull on a shirt. “I lost a bet, so I had to chauffeur her to and from her flight.” I laughed, face hot from remembering her smile. Oh, (Y/N) was adorable. Like my little sister. And I didn’t have to actually chauffeur her; I just wanted to. But Bryleigh wouldn’t have let me.

“Wait; the trip she went on that you funded for her birthday? You spoil her, Loki,” she says, voice riddled with distaste. She sat up in bed. I rolled my eyes.

“Bryleigh, she’s going to be my best woman.” I pulled on my shoe and grabbed my keys on the nightstand. “You better get used to the godmother of your children being around my house.” Bryleigh gaped, looking at me with an offense with an origin I couldn’t place.

“What?” I ask.

“Since when is that bi—” I cut her off, giving her a glare. Good feeling gone. I truly adored my fiancée, but I simply could not stand it when she picked on (Y/N). Especially when she did that.

“Biiiiii-eautiful woman I have adopted as my sister,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “I’m sick of you acting like a jerk to her.”

Bryleigh flopped back down. I kissed her forehead goodbye. “If you loved me, Loki, you’d see she's just evil!” She smiled softly and tiredly. I rolled my eyes.

“Evil? That is a new one,” I comment, kissing her and rushing out the door. Before our bedroom door closed, I heard her scoff. Something in me stirred, both at the thought of Bryleigh making nasty statements about (Y/N), and (Y/N) herself.

-----skip-----

“Flight from [Place you've wanted to visit] now unloading at Platform 9.”

The PA announcements seemed to fly by since the time I got there, but that one I paid attention to. I was almost eager to find her. I was speeding past every person I passed, even doing 360s to see if I could locate her. Her smile, her hands, ruffling her hair.

I passed through crowds, hearing the TSA yelling at someone, kids crying—or was it the other way around?— and twisting and weaving through people to Platform 9. “Where could she be?” I whisper to myself.

Something about all this turning reminded me about going to the Forest of Ydraggsil. But without all the fright; just really confusing and overwhelming and something missing. I didn’t mind. My heart was pounding with excitement. (Y/N) would be in this building somewhere.

“Loki!” I heard her call. I got reminded of my dream, but it didn’t scare me as much as it should have.

I whipped around, beaming when I saw her. She had a rolling suitcase and messy hair; she must have fallen asleep on the plane. I ran to her, lifting her up. She dropped her suitcase as I held her. I spun her with glee.

“You missed me that much, Loki?” She wrapped her arms around my neck, standing closely when I set her down. It was probably because my arms were still around her. (Y/N)’s hands rested within my elbows as she unwrapped her arms.

“Of course, I missed you. Who do you take me for?” I laughed softly, my head spinning slightly as I realized just how tired I was. I also realized that I didn’t care. About anything.

I didn’t care about how mad I had made Bryleigh. I didn’t care about the time. I just wanted. . . .

Oh, no.

But I just couldn’t stop smiling. (Y/N) was the only thing I could see. I was here, with her, no where else.

“I kinda took you for a stubborn prince,” she joked, hands moving again to my shoulders. “You know, the kind that didn’t pick favorites without doing it so subtly, and throwing knives, and doing favors reluctantly. Not picking up your secretary because she asked you to at three in the morning and taking you away from your fiancée.”

“I don’t care what she thinks,” I blurt. She blushed, and so did I. But I stupidly kept going. “I don't want to marry her.”

She stepped out of my arms. “Loki, what are you talking about?” I grew idiotically confident, taking her hands. “Loki?”

“I was such a fool,” I laugh, looking at her. I press the heel of my hand to my forehead. “I’m not in love with her.”

It was all clicking into place, now. The constant dreams of looking for her. The wedding dreams, too, with her in white. It wasn’t just paranoia. And all the times I would feel that awful knot in my gut when she spoke of other men. I gaze into her eyes.

“It’s you.”

She shook her head, “Loki, I — I can’t just—”

“(Y/N) you can’t pretend that you don’t feel this,” I continue. I bring her luggage out with her. “Actually, it all makes sense now.” But as much as I’m grinning, she’s only standing in shock.

“Darling?”

Your POV

Okay. Seeing Loki was already amazing. But now you were sure that one of you had gone crazy, or that you were dreaming.

“What? Loki, you can’t just say things like that!” You felt your face heat up at the delirious Loki’s practically random confession. Your hands and legs were shaking. Yes, you loved him, too, but what about Bryleigh? They had sent wedding invitations already!

“Why not? Better now than in a month, (Y/N),” he said. He opened the door for you. You got in his car. He definitely looked crazed, loopy. But he was happy.

You study him for a second, a thought coming to light almost immediately. He seemed carefree, distracted. He revved up the engine and grinned at you. You knew exactly what he seemed like to you, now that you thought on it.

He was like a bachelor.

“You didn’t!” you gasp. “You didn’t break up with her, did you?!”

“No, but I will. Even if you decide you don’t want me as a friend or a romantic partner. The only person who I can imagine marrying would be you.” He laughs, driving you to your house. You gape at Loki. He really had gone mad.

Not only was he head over heels with you out of the blue, he thought he would marry you. Or, at least he wanted to. Your heart sank.

It all made sense now.

“Loki,” you say quietly. “I’m seeing Steve. From economics.” You ducked your head. He loved you. And you couldn’t see him as anything more than a friend, or a brother. You fiddled with your shirt’s hem.

Loki frowned some, but quickly regained his smile. Except it was fake. You could tell so easily. You shifted in the passenger seat, watching cars pass by. “Oh,” he whispers. “I understand.” You hated this, but you really preferred not to lie.

“I’m so sorry, Loki,” you mumbled. You hugged yourself. You wanted him happy, but you couldn’t be with him. It was the worst kind of lie. “We became an item about three weeks back but I asked him to keep quiet about it. I didn't want to cause any gossip.”

Loki nodded. “No, I totally understand. . . . I was meant to be alone. It’s fate.” His bottom lip quivered. You felt your heart break for your best friend. Then you wondered if he had been dreaming again. He had nightmares that Bryleigh made worse, and you were the only one he could tell them about. Really tell. You felt warm inside. He really was in love with you. 

“Loki—,” you try.

“My immortal life was just . . . the worst. Now my mortal one is mirroring it,” he sighs. He gripped the wheel. Tightly. You saw his knuckles turn paper white. “I became cursed by the Norns. I made a mistake.”

“Loki, please, I am sure that you will find someone who will love you,” you try. You felt something in the back of your head tell you that this was a mistake, letting him go. But it was fate. You knew it. Loki was someone you felt for in the past. Never again.

“You know who I want,” he says. “This time, I won’t settle for something lesser.” He stared at the road. “I’m not getting any younger.”

Something lesser?

“Loki, really,” you sigh, “I’m not fantastic.”

“Steve sure thinks you are.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You growl, “That's low, even for you.” Loki doesn’t answer, just scoffing quietly.

You huff and cross your arms. Fiddle with the seat belt. “Just marry Bryleigh, okay? What do I care!” That came out harsher than you meant. Oops.

Loki pulled the car over so roughly you almost hit your head on the window. “Excuse me?” He turned to you. “What did you mean by that?” You felt your heart speed, but you had already turned him down.

“Just—take—me—home,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Tell me what that was about,” he protested. Loki rested his arm on the middle compartment, making you face him. Now you wanted to get mad at him and yourself. But he wasn’t your life, and he wasn’t ever going to be yours.

So who cared?

“It meant nothing,” you lie. “Nothing at all.” You shift in your seat, again. Look away from him. All the feelings you used to feel came rushing back, but without the affection they used to hold. You felt bitter about loving him before. A man who was engaged to be married. Now he could feel it, too. 

“Oh, sure. You never told me you didn’t want me married, (Y/N).” He had flipped a switch. He went from giddy to hurt within seconds. But saying something as sudden and intimate as “I don’t want you to get married but I’m seeing someone else” would have to hurt anyone.

“Because at least you were happy, Loki!”

“I wasn’t, you knew that!”

“I don’t want to fight about your witch fiancée,” you grumble. “Take me home, Loki. I’ll resign in the morning.” You sit back, watching through the window the rest of the ride. This would need to be solved, but in what way, you didn’t know.

------------(:V)------------

You stepped out into a clearing. You saw Loki dressed in his armor—something he hadn’t worn since New York. Green smoke billowed around your feet. You couldn’t move anything, no matter how much you tried to run and help him. He was screaming about being sorry, apologizing to whomever was laughing and telling him he’d never know love.

You couldn’t scream. Couldn’t get him. You wanted him.

“Please, I just want someone—!” He was cut off by his own cry of fright. He fell to the ground. You hated feeling so helpless. No. No, you needed to help him. The smoke surrounding the both of you covered Loki, and then—

You sat up, horrified. You were going to be late. Loki would—

Loki. Right. You had fought with him the night before. He probably wouldn’t want to see you. . . . Unless that was a dream. Again. You sigh. No matter what you had told him last night, you weren’t seeing Steve. And you were in love with him.

You picked up the phone. There was only really one thing to do.

“Hello?” he answered tiredly. He sounded like someone who had been crying, or losing significant amounts of sleep. He also had a tone of worry in his voice. You felt your heart skip.

“I love you,” you say. You were rushing to get the wires out. “I don’t want you to marry Bryleigh. I’m sorry for everything I told you last night and I don’t care if you remember none of it; you deserve to know. I’m in love with you, I always have been, Bryleigh is and always was someone who was just so much better than I am, and even though I think you two can be happy together, I want you to myself!”

Just before you hang up from fear of his long silence, he says, “Wait, wait. You said you were seeing Steve. . . . I’m so confused. . . . Bryleigh walked out last night, calling the wedding off, anyway. I’m not getting married.”

You sat there for a minute. “What? Why?”

“Apparently I spent more time talking about you than she liked,” he explained. “But I’m not sure if I should anymore?”

“No. No, Loki, that’s great. I mean—it’s not great, but you didn’t have to break up with her. . . . I just . . . spent so long thinking about what you said. You were right: it is fate.”

He sniffs on the other end. “You picked a fantastic time to tell me, (Y/N).” He laughed. “For the record: I think you’re right. It is fate.”

#loki x reader #loki x y/n #gaitwae writes #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki of asgard #loki god of mischief #loki mcu #mcu loki #loki #mcu #marvel

[just-a-few-prompts]

whumpee=🦸‍♀️=(🏝+🗝)+🥺 whumper=👯‍♀x(dead/lost loved ones)

Superpowered Whumpee // Stranded + Caged + Lonely/Touchstarved // Shapeshifter Whumper (as dead/lost loved ones)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been days. Weeks? Months?... Hero had lost track of the time after Villain took their watch. They’d stopped counting the times they’d seen the moon, the sun. The only thing constant was the sound of the waves, the occasional breeze through the bars of their cage.

Villain had taken them here, sometimes leaving them alone for a few days. It was a simple cell - just a simple hut on a sandy beach. A simple hut that had a pretty big cage inside, where Hero had been living for who knows how long, now. They’d long abandoned their mask because of the heat, not that either of them cared. Villain didn’t know who they were anyways, and it wasn’t like they could fight back; their earth powers did nothing with the billions of granules of sand outside, against the metal bars of the cage, couldn’t do anything with the wooden hut.

The door opened, and Villain strode in, running their hand through their hair as they pulled their sunglasses off. “Hey, Hero!” they said, rather friendly, per usual. “How are we today?”

Hero looked up hopefully at the sound of their voice, but shook their head. They straightened up as they realized they had leaned toward the villain. They shouldn’t want Villain’s friendship, not their care, they were the ones that brought them here, that trapped them. “‘m fine,” they muttered, waving a hand at the cage. “All sorts of activities. How’s your vacation going?”

Villain frowned, glancing at the empty floor in front of them. “... Hero, there’s nothing there. Are you hallucinating again?”

Shutting their eyes so hard it hurt, Hero let out a groan. “It’s just a joke,” they said, leaning their head back onto the bars as they relaxed. “That’s not funny.”

“I don’t know,” Villain said, a look of concern on their face as they crossed the room, standing on the other side of the cage of the Hero. They put a hand on their shoulder from behind, the other hand on the Hero’s forehead. “Are you feeling alright? I really don’t want you to get sick, you know, that’s not the point of this.”

Hero rolled their eyes, sighing. “Right,” they said. “I’m here because Sidekick and the others are going to be here any day now to rescue me. That’s the point, right?”

There was a soft sigh, and the hands withdrew. Hero furrowed their eyebrows, trying to resist the urge to respond to the feeling of emptiness left behind. After a few more seconds, though, they couldn’t help themselves. They glanced over their shoulder, then began to turn around. “Villain-?”

A red-gloved hand darted between the bars of the cage, grabbing a fistful of the Hero’s hair. They cried out as their face was slammed against the bar, and they clutched their face as they slid down the metal. Their nose was broken, had to be, they could feel blood-

No time to think as the arm wrapped around their throat, pinning them to the bars. “Have you seriously been here that long?” seethed a familiar voice into their ear. One that Hero had never heard so violent, so hateful, before this stupid cage. “You can’t break out of one tiny cage?”

“S... S-S-Sidekick,” Hero choked out, struggling to be let go. “P-Please- No- No!” They started clawing at Sidekick’s arm, trying to pull it away. “No, you’re not real, this isn’t real-”

“Do I feel real to you?” Sidekick swiftly punched Hero in the lower back, grinning as they cried out. “I don’t think that’s very fake. Do you?”

“It’s not- you’re not-” Hero let out a wordless scream as they finally broke away from Sidekick, scrambling to the center of their cage. They clutched their head as they tried to curl up into a ball, tried to hide from the sight. “You’re not real- you’re not real- you’re not-”

“What, you don’t want to be saved?” Hero flinched at the sound of another voice, looking up to see their boss. Superhero. “Sure, I guess you’ve got this under control. I bet the cage is fake, too, right?”

“N-N-” Shutting their eyes, they began to move away from Superhero. It was a fruitless effort, since Superhero was pacing around the cage now.

“Face it, kid, you don’t have what it takes to be a hero,” they were saying. “Can’t even get out of one cage? It’s just one villain. Come on, kid. You might as well quit if you aren’t out by now.”

Hero was beginning to hyperventilate, shaking their head roughly and pressing it to the ground. “Get out of my head, get out of my head-”

“I taught you better than this.”

A wretched scream tore through Hero as they failed again to hold back tears. They knew that voice. They didn’t have to look up. They knew it was Mentor.

“I taught you to never give up, and what do you do? You sit here like a little pet, just letting Villain do what they want. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. I can’t believe I trusted you.”

“Stop-” Hero’s vision was swimming as they tried to sit up, tried to blink through the tears, the pain from them clutching their own hair was doing nothing to ground them. “Stop, please-!”

“Hero!” Villain’s voice was the last one, and the assault stopped. The cage door squealed open as they ran in, gathering Hero into their arms. “Breathe, breathe!”

“I’m sorry!” Hero cried out, clutching onto Villain, their lifeline, the only person they had left. “Please, please, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry-

“It’s just a hallucination, they’re not real!” Villain said, shaking them. They looked around wildly. This was a horrible time for them to both be alone on the island. “Hero, you’re hurting yourself, come back to me, alright!? I’m here. They’re not. They’re not real.“

“V... Villain,” Hero choked out, their wide eyes darting up to their face. They clutched Villain’s hand as it came to cup their cheek, their chest heaving as they tried to control their breath. “Villain- they-”

“No- Nobody is here,” Villain said, shaking their head. “It’s just you and me, nobody else is here.”

The words in Hero’s throat died before they came out. All they could do was stare at Villain. They were so close, they were always so close when they tried to comfort them. Letting out a whine, Hero began to sniffle, coughing at the blood running down their throat from their nose. “I... I-It hurts,” they whimpered, shutting their eyes and digging their cheek into Villain’s chest, desperate for the warmth of a person and not the breeze. “It hurts.”

“I know, you hit yourself pretty hard, Hero,” Villain said sympathetically, beginning to stand up. Hero clutched at them with a high keen of desperation, but Villain only took their hands in their own. “It’s okay - I’m just going to get the first aid kit, and some water for you. I’m going to patch you up, okay? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Hero still hadn’t fully calmed down, but the sincerity in Villain’s eyes, their voice... They’d taken care of them so far, why would this be an exception? They knew how to help with the hallucinations. They could help.

Sniffling, Hero let Villain go, holding their arms. “O-Okay,” they whispered, curling up into a ball. “But-B-But please hurry...”

“I will, don’t you worry about a thing,” Villain said as they rushed away from the cage door, making sure to close it behind them. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” they heard as they hurried away from the hut. “Okay.”

Villain waited until they were in the next building to let the facade drop, letting out a relieved sigh. Everything was working as planned; Hero would be terrified of their allies, they would see Villain as a protector. It was all working out.

As a smile slipped back onto their face, they were so, so happy that they had never let Hero know they could shapeshift.

#whump prompt #superhero prompt #hero #villain #villain prompt #hero and villain #hero prompt #sidekick #superhero #shapeshifter #tw: blood #scene prompt #character prompt #story prompt #writing prompt #prompts #It was a brain rewired and the lies it told

[gone-daddy-gone]

18 with Shinsou please I beg of you

Rating: 17+

Warnings: murder, yandere themes, gore, throw up

Word Count: 5,288

Tags: @the-grimm-writer <3

Prompt: “Cry for me baby.”

 The day had an odd air to it that soaked your senses from the second you opened your eyes. It felt colder than usual, even with his arms caging you in. It compelled you to push him off you, make breakfast and clean yourself off from whatever happened last night. You tried to forget the grisly details, glimpse of sweat and purple hair invading you peripherals. So you fought his grip, whispering about how much you loved him and will be back with his food. You're praise had earned you you’re temporary freedom. His large arm relieving you of its weight before settling behind you. A sigh of relief pushed itself out of your raged body before you pushed off the large bed with the palms of your hands. He grumbled at you, looking at you with those empty violet eyes; and for a quick second every punishment you ever received came rushing back to your hippocampus. Luckily, he let them flutter closed again. And another sigh was pushed out. 

 “You know what today is right?” He asked, waiting till you were almost free of that godforsaken room. 

 “Y-yes...our...our anniversary?” You tried to make it sound less like an answer and less like a question. You didn’t want your loyalty to be questioned after all. 

 “Mmm hmm. Why don’t you make me my favorite?” You nodded, shooting him the best half smile you could muster. You hated being docile for him, so much, but you hated when he was angry even more.

 The living room had changed some from when you first arrived into your captivity. Originally he had glass and other breakable things to be thrown during a tantrum. Now there was a single couch, adjacent was his rather large TV courtesy of his pro hero money. In the corner was his wall of toys as he liked to call them. A large range from things to shove into you to things to beat you with. Below his sadistic wall was his cage he would put you in when you were in aforementioned tantrums. He preferred to gag and bind you, placing you in that chair till you exhausted yourself out with all the kicking and screaming you would do, the tears would do little to energize you either. He just liked those. That was all he had in his living room, like his whole life revolved around you, which it did. If you stared at it too long, you might just break out into hysterics again, and as much as sobbing uncontrollably on the floor sounded pleasant; you opted to just finish your original task.

 Now the kitchen was a much livelier place than that so called “living room”. The kitchen was the only place he let you have free reign, he wouldn’t even grope you, or shove your head into the counter to force himself on you when you were in there. It was like those safe zones you used to have during four corners, back when you were a kid and your only worry was going home and being able to catch the reruns of pokemon. Oh, how the times have changed, now you were making food for the number five hero, praying he’d like it and won’t slap you around for not saying you loved him right. 

 The daylight was spilling in from the kitchen windows and illuminating the pale floor in a beautiful yellow and orange. Oh, the daylight. You missed that simple privilege of being able to be outside in the morning. Feeling the UV rays cook your skin in the most pleasant way. Walking towards the window, the only glimpse of outside you ever got. You reminisced on when you were first in captivity and tried for hours to break it, a horrible mistake on your part; as he had already thought about it and made sure to put some sort of plexiglass on it thus making it unbreakable. If you soaked in the sun and wallowed in your misery for too long you might just break down. Not that he would be upset, he liked watching you cry, to crumble like an old withered statue. Today might be one of those days, you were almost too suspiciously reminiscent. 

 Making breakfast was a good break from your surroundings that we’re going to send you into a full fledged panic attack. The eggs reminded you only of eggs, the bacon reminding you about that one video you watched in health class, the one about what they really do to those animals. For that small moment in time, you could pretend that you were a willing participant in your domestication. 

 Once you had plaited up a mountain of food for the lean hero, you allowed yourself some of the same meal; much smaller in comparison. Holding up both on your forearms, a ghost of your old life taking over your senses. 

 Suddenly you were back at the Sushi Bar and Ramen restaurant you worked at. Your hair up in a messy bun, four plates of food and two cups of water in each hand. The heat making fat globs of sweat run down your back, beading at your forehead. It all seemed so real, the low rise lanterns casting that oh so familiar orange hue over mahogany tables. 

 “(Y/N)?” In absolute horror, you turned your head to see your old manager. A middle aged man with ashy hair, golden eyes and a smell of designer cologne faintly in the air. 

 “What-what?” You began to shake. You weren’t so sure what was happening, but you were more than happy to hear a voice that wasn’t Shinsuo. 

 “Dear, why are you so shaken? Did that guy come by again?”

 “What- I….What guy?” 

 He made a face of confusion, shaking his head from side to side to signal his displeasure. “The one with purple hair...he’s a hero?” You felt yourself begin to hyperventilate, a sense of dread coming over you. 

 “I don’t...I was just…he...he” 

 “Baby? Commer why are you crying.” He began to walk towards you. 

 “NO! Don’t come near me…” You began to sob, setting the food down and backing up. 

 “Darlin...what did he do?” You just shook your head, frantic as ever. The mirage was too good to be true, too kind.

 “Listen, commer, ok? Let’s talk it out.” He moved towards with you, hands up to show he meant no harm. 

 “Please...please…” Your withered and beaten body caved under the pressure of your mental psyche, before you crumbled to the ground. 

 “What’s wrong? What did he do?” His shadow casted over you, words refused to come out of you as you hiccuped a sob. You flinched in horror, and he looked miserable to see you in pain. It was such a beautiful contrast to glee at seeing you in pain. You gave into the illusion and let your body slump itself into him. He cradled you like he used to during a particularly hard dinner rush. Rub soft circles into your back before rubbing the opposite direction into the same spot. You clawed at his arms, reveling in the feeling of his flesh in your nails.

 “What is happening? Common, you can talk to me.” 

 “He...he...I was…”

 “You were what?” His voice sounded like home, a place you missed so desperately. You took his hand and rubbed your face into the back of it, smelling the sweet smell of miso paste. Talking was going to ruin this moment, you just wanted to be held by him while you still could.

 “He killed me didn’t he.” Your heart and your breathing stopped all at once. If this was a fantasy your brain was cruelly displaying for you, why was your heart racing?

 “What...did you just say?” You wanted to make sure you heard him right. Yet you still lacked the courage to look him in the face as he said it. Maybe it was the guilt. Wait what guilt?

 “I said that he murdered me. And it’s all your fault.” Your heart was thundering, and your ears were ringing as you brought your head up slowly to look at him. Your breath was shaky when you looked to see Shinsuo staring back at you this time.

 “I killed him Kitten...all for you...now come here be good…”

 “NO! I won’t!” With all your strength and what little sanity you had left you pushed away from him. Kicking your feet desperately until you were almost to the couch.

 “No what?��� The intrusion surprised you enough for you to avert your eyes to the offender. The only other person in the house, Shinsuo.

 “But...but you were…” You looked feverishly from him to the spot your episode had taken place at, only for there to be an empty spot where there was once a body.

 “Are you feelin alright kitten”

 Not wanting to have him stay home and “nurse you back to health” you sputtered out a yes I am fine before you clambered up to your feet, still a bit shakin. He must have taken notice.

 “Your face is all red and puffy...and you’re shaking like a leaf. Were you crying?” You felt a twinge of disgust as you could practically hear the grin in the way he spoke about it.

 “No! I...I just cut myself on a knife and its cold in here…” Those were very obvious lies, not well thought out lies on your part. Which is something he hated when you do. Lie to him. He owned you heart, mind, body and soul. He had made that abundantly clear taking over your mind by force plenty of times. You could feel what was coming next, the complete shut down of your brain by force. Making you prisoner in your own body, mindless to your own actions. The sunken place like Get Out. You could hear him about to form words to take you over, his mouth was already forming them when, by the grace of god you heard his familiar ringtone. Saved by the bell.

 “Do not move.”

 You didn’t respond, not even in your head, only doing what you were asked. While he was steadily raising his voice in the other room, your mind was going wild. Did he kill him? Why would he do that? You had worked there so long ago after all, he wouldn’t be a threat. But...just how long ago had it been? You gave up counting the days. Shinso never let you near his phone, as if he didn’t have a million and one passcodes on that thing if you ever did get your hands on it. On top of all of that, you had no cable either. No new outlet to let you know what was going on in the outside world. No recent TV shows to watch, no movies to update you on pop culture. All that put together made it quite literally impossible for you to know about his possible untimely death. The episode was obviously meant to feel real, anyone who had the trauma you did would want to create that escape, if only for a minute. But what kind of deranged masochistic person invisions someone saying something like...that. Maybe you were over analyzing it...what reason would he even have for killing him. Like a reason mattered to him, he was one of those “the end justifies the means” type of hero’s, a red flag the public liked to think of as a light blue.

 Almost if on cue, Shinso emerged from the dungeon that was your shared bedroom. You gulped and couldn’t fight the instinctual flinch at his seething that seemed to sour the already grim room. He looked at you before he clenched his jaw and shook his head. 

 “You are lucky, I have to work.” Your fingers dug their way into your palms, scrapping over the scabs, the intensity increasing as he went on, getting ready for his day.

 “You do not lie to me, you know that.” The aforementioned scab had finally broken its very fragile seal, and you felt the blood flow out in time with the tears in your eyes. Crescendoing with that sickeningly familiar sense of dread rising in the very core of your chest. 

 “Get over here, now.” You released your palms from your self inflicted torutre. Almost running over to him, willing to do anything in that moment to appease him. 

 He just gave you a long look, those violet eyes holding nothing in them against his snow white skin. He breathed out his nose slowly, to anyone that would have seemed like he was trying to take as much oxygen into his system as he could. Not to you, the trained eye. That was his signal that he wanted you to know he was trying his hardest not to beat you.

 “You better do dinner right, and after we are done, you’re going to tell me what was going on.” After he was done ordering you around, with a dash of a threat. He forced you into a kiss, capturing your elbows in between both of his pointer fingers and thumbs. You kissed back, hoping your desperation would be mistaken for genuine love.

 He slammed the door and you stood there. Stood there breathing in the silence. What was I supposed to say? I don’t even know what I had experienced you thought to yourself. You moved in slow motion to the couch, setting yourself onto the couch. One day, all you wanted was one day where you didn’t get “punished”, for anything. You let your body fall back onto the couch, a heaviness that wasn’t quiet sleep taking over you. Your nose was so stuffed up with snot you could barely make out the smell of eggs still...that smell of eggs.

 “Hey! (Y/N), crack this egg and put in the bowl why don’t cha?” You opened your eyes and you were...back in that restaurant…in the kitchen to be exact.

 “W-what?” 

 The young cook, who for the life of you you can’t seem to remember the name of; rolled his eyes and sighed.

 “Common toots, I know you aren’t just a pretty face, crack these for the customer while I go flip this meat before it burns.”

 You took the egg out of the rude cook's hands, giving him the stink eye. If I was going to hallucinate, why can’t it be people who aren’t snarky. With reluctance, you tapped the fragile shell on the counter before you pulled them apart and watched the egg splash into the broth. You smiled at that familiar sight, enjoying the ripple and all.

 “Ya see, that was juuuust perfect.” You watched as he looked up from his meat that he was now cutting into pieces.

 “We need it to be perfect...with that customer out there. Thank god he’s in your section.”

 This conversation seemed so familiar, like it barely felt like you needed to think about what you were to say next.

 “Who?”

He slams the knife down making you jump, the fight or flight mode you’re always in is still active even in your dreams. 

 “Who? WHO!?” He looks around like someone was going to hear your conversation, or care for that matter. “What do you mean who? You live under a rock or somethin’?” 

 “No I-” 

 “EH, I don’t care when you see the customer, you’re going to act like you know him alright?” With no other real choice than to agree you shake your head yes, face contouring into an uncomfortable one.

 “Take these and get out of here...can’t you see it’s crowded in here?” You slowly pick up the bowl he had so delicately placed the meat in, and you so carelessly plopped the egg in. Looking around, he was wrong. It was the exact opposite, there was no one but you two in the kitchen. A rarity in any restaurant. 

 “No...actually I can’t…” 

You stared at you, expressionless before he busted out laughing, he kept laughing as he threw his head back and cradled his stomach. He kept going for an inhuman amount of time before he took his knife and slammed it into the cutting board, exhaling the air in his lungs with a sigh eyes upward.

 “You know...I get it now.” 

 You shivered, feeling scared for some unknown reason.

 “You get what?”

 He smiled, eyes skyward still. “Why he loves you.”

 “Who?” 

 He cast his eyes downwards, not tilting his head just letting his eyes come down to see you. 

 “You’re a funny thing, you know that.” You didn’t say anything, slowly trying to walk out the door into the main floor. “You killed me…” He let those out with a smile, before walking to you.

 “You killed me...and the worst part is we all get why he loves you...but I just…” He was right to your nose, you could smell whiskey and mint on his breath. “I don’t think I can forgive you.” 

 “I-”

 “Wake up.” He shoved you, and you quite literally were pushed back into your body. Rising up from the couch, gasping and clawing at your throat for air. You were panicking, trying to grip onto the cushions frantically looking around trying to ground yourself. After a while you finally got a grip on yourself. Why was this even happening? What did you even do to deserve this? You rubbed your forehead and pushed yourself off of the couch; approaching the kitchen to relieve your dry throat. You took a small glance at and noted that it was now lunch time, and you had been knocked out for at least four hours. Shinso would be calling any minute now. Turning on your heel and retrieving a glass you watched the bubbles of the water form at the top of the glass. You started off with a small swig before chugging the rest down. Your hand seemed to act on its own, as you absentmindedly wiped the sweat off your face. You filled the cup up more before you went to the bookshelf full of Shinso approved books, trying to find one you had yet to read. Then you heard the phone that only received calls ring out, beckoning you into retrieving it. With a sigh you sauntered over and pulled it up to your ear. 

 “Hello Kitten, how are you?”

 “Oh I’m...just trying to pick out a book.”

 He hummed happily before responding. “That’s my girl, always trying to better herself. Did you see the new one I got you.”

 Your ears perked up at those buzz words. “New one?” You couldn’t hold back the smile that pushed its way onto your face.

 He giggled. “Yes Kitten, happy anniversary. I love you.” Your smile faltered at his words, loving someone and being utterly obsessed with someone was two totally different things.

 “Happy anniversary, I love you too.” 

 “Alright Kitten, I’ll see you when I come home for dinner tonight.” 

 “Ok.” You hung up the phone, setting it down and letting your face fall. You turned to the bookshelf, scanning over all the books before you landed on the new one. You smiled, letting out a shaky laugh. He could be sweet, when he wasn’t being manic. It was a book from before you were in containment, so you couldn’t get a grasp on reality. You turned it over and went over the reviews before flipping it over and looking at the cover again, only to discover it was a different book. One you read. Oh no.

 You shot up and suddenly you were in your bedroom again. Sitting criss cross applesauce from your sister. 

 “This book should take your mind off of...you know. Picked it up just for you sis!” She beamed at you, and your heart ached. You just stared at her and all her beautiful glory, it had been so long since you'd seen her, or even heard her voice. The only reason you realized you were crying was your sister looking at you in shock, mixing with horror. 

 “Hey, hey now it’s ok! You’re safe here...you’re safe here.” She wrapped her arms around your torso and pulled your sobbing form. 

 “Sissy...what’s happening to me?” She furrowed her brows and kissed your forehead, petting your head.

 “Nothing baby...just...some boy with too much power had taken a liking to you…” She didn’t know what to say to you to keep calm, to make you feel safe. It was like she was insinuating without insinuating, that she knew where this was going. 

 “He’s a monster…”

 “Oh baby.” She kept stroking your hair, letting you vent all your emotions out.

 “It’s not fair! It’s not fair! It’s not faaair!” You screamed into her shoulder. 

 “Remember what momma always told us.” She knew what she was doing as soon as you turned your sobbing into some suppressed laughing. 

 “I hate you.” You smiled, wiping your tears and globs of snot off of your face. 

  “Now that’s just blatantly not true!” She said with a laugh, turning around to grab her wine glass. She took a large swig before looking down at you, meeting your expectant eyes staring back at her. 

 “You know what happens now right?” 

 “Yeah…” You said sadly, a part of you is happy that it wasn’t a sad twisted goodbye this time. Maybe your brain just couldn’t bring itself to turn her into a nightmare. 

 “You need to make dinner afterall…” You nodded and closed your eyes, the last thing you felt was her lips on your forehead. Before you opened your eyes.

 You stood back up and walked into the kitchen, four thirty. You laughed, she was right for once. It was about time you made dinner. Shinso’s favorite, ramen. You turned the water on to boil in a few different pots for different reasons. Going into the fridge to retrieve the noodles, the vegetables and your special ingredient in your broth. You got to work chopping, seasoning the broth, and cooking the meat. The kitchen smelt so lovely, you were proud of your forced skill you developed. You were weary at every turn waiting for another hallucination to take over your senses. Weary as you dropped the eggs into the ice bath, weary as you grilled your vegetables, weariest as you dropped the noodles into the broth. Something about them seemed untrustworthy to you. You looked back out the window to be greeted with the sun going down, a deep shade of maroon with just a twinge of yellow outside. It was a calm end to the stormy day. You plaited up the food, throwing the tea kettle on the stove so Shinso could have his favorite tea with his favorite meal. You looked over the bowls one last time, realizing that you forgot to put the egg in. You giggled at yourself, how could you forget the best part? For the second time today (at least in your head) you cracked the egg on the counter and watched it fall into ramen. You smiled at your masterpiece.

 “Hey that's pretty good!” You groaned before you turned, and this time it was your best friend who also worked at the restaurant. 

 “Hey, don’t be dick , I'm being nice to you!” She chuckled out before taking the bowl in front of you. 

 “I wish you wouldn’t…” You mumbled, watching as she took an ungodly amount of dishes into her arms. 

 “You just gonna check me out or are you gonna help?” You rolled your eyes and took the rest of the plates. 

 “Listen pop your tits out I need to pay rent.”

 “Girl!...I am not doing that” 

 “First off, don’t pretend I haven’t seen you do worse.” You glared at her before you mocked her behind her back.

 “I can see what you're doing.” She taunted before turning her head only a little bit so she could see you out of the corner of her eye. You just rolled your eyes at her, watching as she set her table's plates down, encouraging you to take the foot out of your mouth and do the same. You snapped out of your stupor and did just that. She said something about you being new and absentminded before gripping your elbow and tugging you in the direction of the kitchen. 

 “What is your problem?...Is it...you know?” You sighed, why did no one ever say his name?

 “You mean Hitoshi?” Almost exasperated. 

 “You’re on a first name basis with your stalker?” She said inquisitively. 

 “Oh you don’t know half of it.” You retorted back.

 “Oh...don’t like the sound of that. Here, I made you something that will make you feel better!” She exclaimed out loud. You really doubted it. And you gave her that look that meant, you doubted it. 

 “Don’t look at me like that. Common, I have just the thing.” You reluctantly followed after her, hoping this would be just like the time before. You couldn’t say you were entirely disappointed when you two stopped at a ramen bowl, it looked like your favorite. 

 “Come on go ahead, I made this one myself.” She said so giddily that you couldn’t help but smile back and obliged her. Letting the large spoon take in the broth, sipping it and letting the warm liquid slither down your throat. It felt good, tasted even better. You smiled and looked at her confused, as she sucked at cooking. 

 “What do you think?” She urged you to give your review. 

 “It’s amazing, what did you do to it?”

 “You have to guess!” You took another sip, twirling the chop sticks in your fingers to catch some noodles to assist the broth.

 “I don’t know...extra ginger?” You asked, genuinely at a loss. 

 “No! Do you see any ginger? You dense chicken wing.” You looked at her with offence, shaking your head as you shoveled more in your mouth. 

 “No I suppose I don’t” You scratched your head before taking some of the meat into your mouth.

 “Is this wagyu?”

 “Yes but that’s not it!” You shrugged your shoulders, signaling your defeat.

 “Give up?” She asked eerily quietly. You nodded your head, still absentmindedly digging into your meal. 

 “The secret ingredient is me.” She said it sounded like a smirk was on her face. Her ominous words caused you to stop mid bite. With shaky hands, you looked from the bowl then back at her, your breath caught in your throat as you realized you weren’t looking at anything. Her neck was clean off of her neck. You began to breathe heavily through your nose, looking to the ground to find her head before you heard.

 “Psst, over here.” Coming from the direction of the ramen in front of you. You tried swallowing the food but realized you couldn’t. You turned slowly, gagging before you made eye contact with her lifeless head in the soup. You began to cough, spitting up something that had to be cartilage, something was still in your mouth, so you reached inside, retrieving a long strand of hair from your mouth. That was the final push you needed as you threw up all over the floor, chunks of your best friend getting all over your shoes. 

 “Do you see now?” You looked up, hiccuping in horror at the severed head speaking to you now. “He killed all of us. In this very shop, right in front of you.” You shook your head, trying to deny it, for your own sanity. “Just look.” Her freaky bulging eyes moved over to the left, and you followed accordingly. You had to cover your mouth to stop yourself from throwing up again. Every person who worked there was dead on the ground, their body parts strewn around like they were those dolls whose limbs popped off. Perhaps, in the most horrible of displays was your manager's body, stomach open, arms sprawled backwards and organs on the outside. The worst part was that his lungs were moving. 

 “Do you see now? You sleep and kiss the monster who did this to us all those years ago...it’s your fault...its all your fault.”

 “No..”

 “It's all your fault. It's all your fault. It's all your fault!” “NO! I-I didn’t do this…”

 “IT’S YOUR FAULT IT'S YOUR FAULT IT’S YOUR FAULT!” 

 “NO!” You were screaming now, covering your eyes and crying. 

 You kept screaming till the only other sound's the tea kettle screaming back at you to ift it off of the burner. You were still crying, standing shakily as you removed it rather violently from the burner. You look at the time, Shinso would be here any minute now, so you cleaned yourself up and put both his tea and ramen down in his spot. Putting your food in yours and sitting down, face stone cold as you stared at the door, waiting for him to come in. 

 It was a few minutes before he came bustling in, exclaiming about how hard his day was. Right. You said in your head, watching as he took his coat off. He walked over to you and gave you a kiss on your forehead.

 “Guess who I saw today.” You didn’t answer him, only looking at him waiting for him to tell you the answer you didn't ask for. 

 “Chargebolt! Can you believe that? Haven’t seen that kid in-” You tuned him out, the sounds of your best friends screams and blaming you were all you could hear. The stench of death still burns your nostrils too.

 “Anyhow Kitten, how was your day?” You looked at him, cocking your head. 

 “How was my day?” You repeated the question. You thought about it, before you licked your lips and looked him in those cold eyes.

 “Fine.” You said, poking at your food like a toddler. 

  He just hummed in response. Then talking incessantly about this villain he had a hard time dealing with. Somewhere between needing to call backup and him getting punched in the face, you tuned out again. Thinking about how much you wished that could have been you that did that to him. You snapped out of your thinking when he spoke to you directly again. 

 “What’s wrong? Is it your finger.” You looked back at him, not caring to play this game anymore.

 “You killed them, didn’t you?

 He made a face that said “whatever do you mean kitten?”, it made you mad. “Who? The villain?” He had the audacity to act dumb.

 “My friends...all of them...you killed them...in front of me.” 

 He cocked his head, before smiling. “I don’t know what you mean Kitten.”

 “Don’t lie to me!...Don’t you dare lie to me...I remember it...I remember it all.” You began to sob and shake, staring at him expectantly and angrily before watching him rise to his feet. He tilted his head back before he laughed, long and hard, making you angrier. 

 “Oh Kitten, of course I did…” You cringed and sobbed harder, tears mixing into the broth below you. 

 “That’s right, cry for me baby, you know I love it when you do.” You let out a wail before your fingers found their way into your hair again, ripping out the strands. 

 “I brainwashed you to forget, for a year, every year. Just so I get to see the anger and horror on your face like it’s brand new. You don’t remember any of it all year, until I ask you the phrase “Do you know what day it is?” He said smiling, that cold sadistic smile down at you before he leaned into your face.

 “Think about it this way Kitten, I save you from all that pain for a whole year. Aren’t I so thoughtful?” He said with a sinister cackle, and all you could do was sit there and cry.

#yandere #Yandere love #yandere drabble #yandere scenario #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere one shot #yandere prompt #yandere imagines #boko no hero academia #boko no hero academia fanfic #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #yandere my hero academia #yandere my hero academia imagines #bnha imagines #yandere bnha #yandere bnha imagines #yandere mha #yandere mha imagines #hitoshi shinso imagine #shinso x reader #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #shinso hitoshi #yandere hitoshi shinso #yandere shinso hitoshi

[nerdywriter36]

It’s Only the Rain

when there's a thunderstorm in paris, meg is there to calm erik's nerves.

tw: panic attack 

i'm finally writing merik (meg/erik) content!! @ofserien requested this sweet little fluff-filled oneshot, and i'm such a sucker for her merik fic 'only for you' (which you should definitely read, it's amazing) that she got me hooked on the ship, so here we are. enjoy!

FFN

AO3:

~

He had tried to ignore it when it had started; the pitter-patter of the raindrops against the windows of their home had been almost soothing at first, inspiring him as he worked at the latest composition that had been occupying his mind, but when they got stronger and came along with bright flashes of lightning and loud thunderclaps, his anxiety had started to build at an almost exponential rate. He hadn't been able to focus on the sheet music in front of him anymore, his mind flooded with horrid memories of being left to cry alone in his mother's attic while thunderstorms roared outside, longing to be held in a pair of comforting arms and hushed or sung a lullaby, or when he was held captive in a tiny cage, completely exposed to the elements when it rained and the gypsies were staying put for the night. He could still practically feel the cold droplets beating down on him, soaking him to the bone and leaving him with only a chill to remember it by.

When his hands started to shake, he abandoned his composition, stepping out of his study as the room started to feel like it was closing in on him, almost constricting his ability to pull air into his lungs. He didn't want to wake his wife; he knew that Meg would scold him like there was no tomorrow if she found out that he had been struggling so much and didn't say a word, but he hated to bother her; with her work at the Opera House, rehearsing for hours at a time and then having to perform on top of that. And if her suspicions about a pregnancy were true...

He quickly banished that thought from his mind, already feeling it adding to the pounding of his heart. He had reached the parlour and had initially considered just sitting by the slowly dying fire, but the idea of sitting still was not an option anymore. He couldn't sit still when he was in this state, he knew that; that would only allow him to focus on how cold, clammy, and shaky his hands were, and with his wingbacked armchair, it would only make it feel like the room was growing even smaller than it already seemed to be. So pacing was the only option he had and it was the one he would go with.

He paused in that effort for only a moment to lean against the back of the sofa, trying to breathe in steadily through his nose and out through his mouth, but every breath was strangled and shaky, and just when he thought he might have had some semblance of a handle on it, a loud thunderclap practically shook the house. As he jumped slightly, a whimper slipped out of him; god, when was the last time he'd whimpered? He couldn't even recall, but naturally, the situation when that was all he did in the cage he was confined to on stormy nights such as these came to mind. Left in the cold, dark, rainy night, crying and quietly pleading with God to let his mother, as cruel as she could be, simply walk out of the darkness, free him, and take him home.

With a bright flash of lightning that lit up the room, closely followed by another roaring thunderclap, the shaking in his legs finally grew to be too much and he fell to the ground, pressing his back firmly against the back of the sofa as his breaths came in short gasps. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, his mask having been left behind in his study, to try and block out all the stimulation around him, almost as if not seeing the lightning would convince him that it wasn't really there. He realized the fault in his plan, though, when he still heard the roaring thunder, so he immediately pulled his hands away from his eyes to press them over his ears, desperate to keep any sound out that he could, his eyes still squeezed shut all the while. He pulled his knees to his chest and leaned his forehead against them, his breaths coming short and fast as he tried desperately to distract himself, but knowing that it was only inevitable that he would end up hyperventilating more than he already was and then the cold sweat would come followed close by tears and then...

Then there was a gentle touch on his shoulder. It made him flinch, true, but he knew who it was and just knowing that she was there made it even slightly easier to breathe.

"Erik? Erik, take your hands away from your ears," Meg whispered, gently wrapping her hands around her husband's wrists and pulling his hands down when he failed to move on his own. "I'm here, you're okay. Take a deep breath for me."

"I- I can't," Erik choked out, his forehead still pressed against his knees.

"Yes, you can. Everything's okay, just breathe, my love," Meg replied as she sat up on her knees and wrapped her arms around him, gently running her fingers through his hair with the knowledge that that always calmed him if he woke up from a nightmare or suffered from an attack such as the one he was in the midst of.

The warmth of her embrace was exactly what Erik had been dreaming he had had as a boy and it quickly began to calm him; he felt the pounding of his heart start to slow, and within a few minutes, he managed to lift his head to rest it on her shoulder, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he slowly took a breath through his nose.

"There you are, it's okay," Meg whispered, one hand cradling his head to her shoulder while the other gently stroked up and down his back. "Just remember that everything is okay, you're safe. Tell me what you can think of that helps you remember that you're safe, okay? Go through them for me."

For a moment, he couldn't think of any at all, but slowly, all the things keeping him safe in their home came to his mind: "Th-the door is locked, and so are the windows. We have lights so I can see, and have you here."

"Good. I'm glad you mentioned me; you always have to remember that you aren't alone anymore," Meg said, a small smile on her face as she leaned back from their embrace and held his face in his hands, brushing a few stray tears away with her thumbs. "Everything is okay. Nothing's going to hurt you."

Erik nodded slightly, only to flinch when there was another clap of thunder, which moved him to quickly wrap his arms around his wife again to hold her tight.

"Oh, the storm is what's bothering you, okay," Meg said softly, nodding to herself as she began to piece together a plan to help him. "Alright, come on, let's get you up. We'll go sit on the sofa, I'll go make us some tea and I'll put another log in the fireplace to keep it going, alright? Everything's okay."

"Okay. Thank you," Erik whispered, smiling weakly as she pressed a kiss to his cheek before he took her hands as she stood up and let her pull him up to his feet. His legs were still weak and shaky, he could tell, so he draped his arm around her shoulders for extra support. Not that she would be much help if he were to collapse; given their height and weight difference, he could drop like a rock and bring her right down with him.

The two slowly migrated to the sofa and Erik gave his wife a small smile as she grabbed her thick knitted blanket off of the back of the piece of furniture and wrapped it around him. "Thank you," he said again.

"Of course, my love. Now, just stay cuddled up like that. I'll go put on the kettle to boil and be back in just a moment, okay? You'll be alright, won't you?" she inquired.

"I think so, yes. I'll come to find you if I'm not," Erik replied with a slight nod.

Meg nodded and leaned forward to gently kiss his forehead before she padded off towards the kitchen, her steps as light as they always were; what with her ballerina training, he wasn't a bit surprised. He loved how delicate she was, but at the same time, the fact that she could be feisty and fight for herself only made him adore her all the more. Two polar opposites, perhaps, but his wife encapsulated them both and he couldn't be happier about that fact.

That was something he wouldn't mind seeing in their child if they were ever to have one; the more the little girl or boy was like their mother, the better, in his mind. He knew that Meg disagreed and that she hoped they would have a son and that the boy would be just like him in every way, whether that included his practically non-existent face or not, and as much as he didn't want that at all, he tried his best not to smother her dreams; when it came to the baby, so long as she was happy, so was he.

She reappeared by his side without him even noticing, which was the curse that came along with her delicate footsteps, but it always made her giggle when he jumped slightly as she appeared next to him.

"I got you again," she said with a quiet laugh.

"Yes, you did," he replied, a breathy laugh escaping him as she sat beside him. He moved his arm to wrap it around her, pulling her under the warm blanket with him. "Is the tea on?"

"It is, yes. I have some chamomile set aside for you; it'll help you sleep," Meg said softly. "What is it about the storms that are so difficult for you, hm? I know they bother you, especially when they happen at night, but I've never seen you get quite so bad as you were when I walked in."

Erik sighed; he'd known the question as coming, but still had neglected to prepare a true answer. "I have bad memories of them from when I was a boy," he said simply. "They always frightened me, and I...I didn't always have someone there to comfort me when I was afraid, so that fear has stayed with me and has only worsened over the years, as childish as that may be. There are much worse things to be afraid of, but thunderstorms were always difficult."

He heard her sigh quietly before she set her hand on his chest, over his heart; that was something she always did when she was feeling particularly sympathetic for what he'd been through. "I'm so sorry. You deserved so much better," she whispered.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I have everything I could want now because I have you," Erik replied, resting his hand over hers. "And I know that you will always keep me safe, which I never thought I could have before; everywhere I went, I was in danger or exposed to the elements or running for my life. I was still in that position when we met at the Opera House, as hidden as I may have been; at any given moment, I could have been discovered and the gendarmes could have been down in the cellars, arresting me and dragging me off to prison or a much crueller fate. Now, though, I know that I am truly safe with you, ma fleur, and I couldn't ask for anything better."

Another sigh escaped her, but it was quickly followed by a breathy laugh, which Erik quickly discovered the reason for when Meg turned to look up at him and he noticed the tears in her eyes. "This was supposed to be about me stopping you from crying, not you making me start," she said.

"I am merely speaking the truth," Erik replied as he reached up to cup her cheek in his hand. "When I had panic attacks like that as a younger man, I was always alone to cope with them. Well, almost always; I had Nadir in Persia to guide me through them, and that was a true blessing, but he couldn't be there every time. Sometimes he would be working or asleep or tending to his son and I would have to deal with it alone, which often meant that I suffered through it before I fell asleep again simply out of exhaustion. Now, though I have you next to me in bed every night to help me when I have a nightmare and to rescue me when the thunder is so loud that it's the only thing I hear and I believe it is the only thing I will ever hear. I do not know what I did to deserve you, but I am glad to have you."

"And I am so very fortunate to have you," Meg said softly, tipping her head up to press her lips to his. "But just stay close to me, my love, and all will be well; it's only the rain, there is no need to fret."

#poto #phantom of the opera #rarepair #merik #meg/erik #erik #meg giry #phanfiction #phic #my writing

[sadistgalore]

Killian and Luther: Beating the Monster

New characters alert! (Psst...guess who Luther is best friends with?)

CW: Dehumanization, minor character death, failed escape, strangulation, whistle torture, brainwashing, manipulation, beating, small spaces, hyperventilating

It was a simple order, really.

Bring me my dog.

But with his boy, nothing is this simple.

Luther had sent the order just a few moments ago, wanting to distract himself from his work with his pet. Now, he begrudgingly got from his desk and grabbed his baton, walking out of his office.

He followed the same man who busted into the room, ear ripped off and a large bite mark in his arm. Luther didn’t need to hear the man’s “He fuckin’ just killed Dave!” to know his pet had become unruly. The said man limped towards the dog’s room from which he came, seeing the door was wide open and yells coming from inside, not to mention a low growl.

Inside the dark and small room, the young man had managed to get himself free from his shackles and when his transporters came in to take him, and used that moment to lunge onto one of them and rip his throat out. That man was Dave, who slowly died listening to his friends yell his name in shock, and then fail to fend up the attacker. That boy landed several hits to the two of transporters left, clawing and biting whenever he could. Finally, one of them left and ran to Luther’s office, hoping his other friend would survive the feral.

And the scene that Luther saw when he walked in, was his dog straddling the third man from the encounter and strangling him relentlessly.

Luther sighed and drew out his whistle, then blew.

The boy-dog scrambled off of the man, retreating back to his corner with his hands over his ears. He was whining incoherently, but bit his tongue painfully once he looked up and saw who blew the whistle.

Luther was looking at him with a cold glare and eyebrow raised, secretly hiding the fact that he enjoyed his pet in such disarray. He tightly gripped his baton and smacked it in the palm of his hand, making his pet flinch.

“Killian? Have you been a bad boy?”

He was met with yet another whimper.

“Killian, buddy, I promise I won’t hurt you.”

The boy shakes, thoughts bouncing in and out of his head.

Liar. He’s a liar.

No! Obey him, obey him. He protects you.

He tortures me!

Killian almost yelped when Luther was suddenly kneeling in front of him, hand caressing his cheek.

“Just tell me what happened, bud.”

Killian swallowed. “S-shackles...came loose...wanted to-.” But he stopped himself before he could finish, making Luther smile.

“Oh, pup. Wanted to what? Escape?”

No response.

“Why did you stop yourself, Killian?” Again, no response. Luther scrunched his eyebrows, then tightly grabbed the boy’s chin.

“Tell me.”

“Because pets aren’t supposed to want anything.”

“Good boy. Now after the shackles came loose, why did you make the decision to attack my men?”

The boy’s eyes darted past Luther to the other surviving men, one leaning on the other as they began to limp out.

“T-they hurt m-me.”

Luther hummed. “They need to. It’s how we keep you in line. And you can clearly see why, you just killed someone after all, you monster.”

The sick man always loved seeing his pets reaction to that word, and it never fails to bring that boy to tears.

“Alright then,” Luther stated as stood up and began pacing around the room.

“Your shackles became loose and instead of telling either me or your transporters, you chose to attack them and kill one of them. You almost killed another one before I stopped you, and you did it all in the hopes of escaping?”

The boy fearfully shook his head.

“Oh, my boy, you know I need to punish you for that.”

Killian looked up, eyes blown with panic.

“Please...S-sir Luther, please, I’m sor-ah!”

“You had your chance to apologize,” Luther warned, raising the baton for a second blow.

Killian put his arms up in defense, hopelessly praying that the pain would be bearable. But with Luther, it never is.

His owner reigned in blow after merciless blow, ignoring his pets screams and cries and he pounded down on his poor body. The man then resorted to his hands and feet, kicking him with full force and landing punches to his already abused abdomen. Once he finished, he wiped off his clothes with his hands and grabbed a handkerchief to dry them with.

“You know, we were going to have some bonding time together, but instead you went and fucked it up,” he grunted, before pulling on the boy's hair and dragging him to another door in the room.

Killian whimpered in protest as he saw the door open up to a familiar dark and small room, with a cage inside.

Luther let go and kicked him again. “Get in there.”

Killian shamelessly let tears fall as he crawled inside, jumping as the cage door slammed shut behind him.

It was already so small in here, how was he going to-

Killian gasped aloud as Dave’s dead body was flung against the cage, not noticing the flashlight being placed next to it.

“I think you need some time with Dave to reflect on what you’ve done.”

Luther made to close his door, before realizing another way to mentally torture his pet.

“He had a family, you know. Two little girls, four and six. Shame they’re going to grow up without their daddy,” Luther finished and he cruelly spit on Killian.

The boy wailed as his owner closed the door, slowly beginning to hyperventilate as he was not met with his usual darkness, but the light shining on his victim’s dead eyes and bleeding neck.

Monster.

I'm a monster.

#whump #whump writing #whump community #whumpee #whumper #original work #my writing #Devil's Playground #Luther #Killian #dehumanisation tw #beating #brainwashing #manipulation #sadistic whumper #minor character death #death tw #torture #captivity