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vanilladove · 4 months

Text

~ get free (3/3)

pic creds luvpngs | gif creds akashi-tetsuki

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: asylum patient!nikolai x asylum attendant!fem!reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre: smut w/ plot + dark content; 18+ only pls!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ content warnings: smut/nsfw, kidnapping, mentions of abuse + death, manipulation, violence, unhealthy relationships, infidelity (revenge hehe), slightly yandere!nikolai, dubious consent, husband yapping🤓

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ summary: you've been kidnapped by your patient and taken to meet "dos" and another member of the doa. you notice someone familiar and are forced to make a quick decision. will you free yourself or stay in another man's cage? ˚₊‧꒰ა read pt 1 & pt 2 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ word count: 5.6k

Your head was pounding and your eyelids felt heavy, along with the intense soreness coursing through your body, especially on the left side of your waist. Trying to open your eyes through the blinding light, you could barely make out two figures in front of you--they looked like they were talking, so you tried to listen to the warped voices as much as you could with the remaining consciousness you could muster.

"Nikolai, I've meaning to ask you..." A deep, disinterested voice inquired. "What are you planning to do with that?"

"That? Don't be rude, Dos! This is Dove, I wrote to you about her in our letters, remember?" You could make out Nikolai's whines.

"Yes, but what use does she have for the Decay of Angels? If she's just another plaything, then she doesn't belong at the base. Besides, that woman is just another liability."

Nikolai sighed annoyedly, "She's my lover. I intend to keep her with me. I'm sure we can find a way for her to contribute later," he smirked, "I guess you wouldn't understand though...When's the last time you felt the touch of a woman, anyways?

You heard Dos scoff loudly at Nikolai's remark, "Fine, do what you like with her. Also, Sigma and I have finished getting information out of the target, so he's ready for disposal in the basement. He was a real pain to deal with."

Nikolai giggled at that, joking more with Dos. The exhaustion was taking over you again, though, so you couldn't keep yourself awake to glean anymore information from their conversation.

You heard the two men's voices fade out into the background as sleep overtook you once again.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

When you finally woke up, it was dim. You winced as you got up and took in your surroundings: the silk sheets you were under, a large bed, a spacious gothic-style room, cream curtains covering tall windows, and cuddled next to you...Nikolai?

You flinched lightly when you looked down to see his eyes staring directly into yours. He got up slowly and pulled you into his strong arms, moving the stray hairs--which had been mysteriously braided--out of your face and kissing your forehead lovingly. "How are you feeling, myla? Did some of the pain go away?"

You blushed as you felt his warm chest against you. He was shirtless, and all of the passionate hickeys you'd given him were exposed. Nikolai smirked cheekily when you stared at them for too long and watched your blush deepen when you realized you were wearing his white button up with nothing underneath. You looked so cute in the oversized shirt, so his.

Confusion coming back to you, you pulled away a bit, "Wait, Nikolai, where are we?" You frowned, last remembering being in the bath house, "The asylum...what happened?"

A sigh left his lips as he placed your head on his shoulder, "Well, after we had sex in the tub--by the way, you're pretty good at riding--" heat rose in your cheeks from his dirty comment, "back up was on their way and I didn't have enough time to explain things, so I needed to subdue you quickly for us to escape. That was why I had to use the tranquilizer on you. Sorry, you must've been shocked..." Nikolai stroked your hair softly, but you pulled back in bewilderment, staring into his softened eyes.

"Wait, why couldn't you just tell me that before? And how did you escape so fast? Where is this pl--" Nikolai cut you off suddenly, dramatically pressing a finger to your lips, "This is the Decay of Angel's temporary base...we're pretty far from the asylum and ran away like you wanted. I couldn't tell you anything because we needed to know if we could trust you." You tried to object at that, but your ex-patient only pushed his finger further to silence you. "And how we got here? Hmmm..." he paused to giggle manically, "Well, dove, that's a secret I can't tell yet...I'm a jester after all. I have tricks up my sleeve that I can't reveal to the audience--even to pretty girls like you~" You groaned as he replaced his finger with his lips and peppered kisses all over your flustered face.

He clearly wasn't telling you everything, but you didn't have any choice but to believe him. After all, you were still in one piece and out of the asylum, and he'd at least taken you to a nice place with silk sheets and roses. Nikolai wouldn't lie to you or harm you without a good reason, would he?

You pouted, "Fine, I believe you..." Nikolai grinned proudly and rolled off the bed. He stretched and threw you your black biker shorts and underwear that he'd pulled seemingly out of nowhere along with a loose white shirt that matched his uniform linen pants.

"Come on, pryntsesa, there's someone I want you to see."

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You shakily stepped forward as Nikolai led you deeper into what seemed to be a basement. The walls were covered in pale bricks and dimly lit lanterns--keeping up with the medieval theme of the overall base. In the barely illuminated darkness, you could make out what looked like a jail cell. You kept trying to peer at Nikolai to ask him where exactly you were going and who he was taking you to see, but he only stared ahead with the same proud smirk on his face.

Maybe he was taking you to meet Sigma? Or the other members of the Decay of Angels? You shivered thinking about the fact you really were in their base; Nikolai's files had included that he used to work with a terrorist organization and the various atrocities they'd committed. Now that you were with them, you wondered if that made you a hostage or co-conspirator. You briefly recalled Dos mentioning "the target" in the basement. Was that who you were going to see?

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you bumped into Nikolai's back, his soft braid tickling your nose. You muttered out a quiet apology as he flipped on a switch to brightly light up the jail cell you stood outside of. He turned slightly to face you and smiled gently at you as he brought you in front of him, putting his hands on your shoulders and making you blush. Some sudden cries grabbed your attention to what was in front of you, causing you to instinctively recoil at the familiar face staring back at you.

The boss of the asylum--your husband.

"Dear, is that you?" His raspy voice called out. Getting a full look at him, he looked worse than ever--sweaty disheveled hair clinging to his forehead; uniform tattered and stained with dirt, sweat, and what appeared to be ash; and a desperate, blown out expression on his face. You couldn't believe your eyes--Why was he here?

"T-that man kidnapped you, didn't he?" He got up from the floor and stepped closer in response to your silence, "L-look, I don't know w-what those terrorists told you, but that f-freak--" your husband shrieked, pointing at Nikolai but quickly bringing his finger down in fear, "--burned down the entire asylum and dragged us here. The new girls, the guards, they all got burned or severely injured." Your eyes widened as he started crying and wailing miserably, "A-and Lacey...sh-she's dead...what a brutal way to die...Oh God...Lacey--" The boss clutched his face as tears streamed down his face, mixing with the ash and further sullying his appearance.

Disgust and shock hit you, partly from the mess in front of you that was still reminiscing about the home wrecker he'd cheated on you with and partly because of the events you'd just learned--assuming your husband wasn't lying, Nikolai committing arson and presumably killing Lacey were details that he kept from you. You turned to face the jester, but he only kept his smile from earlier--eyes now devoid of warmth and stoically cold, gazing back into your dilated pupils before turning your head around back to the cell. You shuddered lightly: that was him confirming it was true.

Your husband's eyes twitched at your lack of reaction. He abruptly lunged towards the jail cell, clinging onto the cell bars and struggling against them to try to reach out to you. You screamed as his arm extended in your direction, and Nikolai stepped back to wrap his arms protectively around you, pulling you into his chest.

Your husband was banging against the bars, "Please! L-listen to me, darling!" You cringed at the fake nickname. "Forgive me for what I did in the past and save me--I'm sure h-help's coming. After this, I-I'll...buy you a new car and w-we can go on a nice vacation, start a f-family--start over, y'know?" He gave you a distraught smile, and you cringed at his pathetic display of promises. There was absolutely no way you could willingly go back to a man who'd abused and betrayed you.

Snot was now falling down his nose as he tried to fix his hair and steady his voice; he was practically yelling at you now. "Look, I'm sorry for cheating on you. Lacey was just too tempting...but I regret it, a-and now I know that I really love you." You weren't convinced, he was clearly just trying to save face. "S-shit!" He clanged against the bars again, knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping them, "I'm trying to apologize to you, dear. I love you--I'm wearing my ring for fuck's sake! C-can't you see that that freak's manipulating you?" He tried to make eye contact again with the white-haired man in front of him, but only cowered back in fright after meeting his intimidating gaze.

You could sense Nikolai glaring back as he tightened his grip around you. It made you frown seeing your husband trying to act like he knew everything about your relationship...Nikolai wasn't manipulating you; he loved you in the way your unfaithful husband never could.

"What are you talking about?" You asked sadly, completely shattering whatever pitiful resolve your husband had left. He gasped horribly and fell to his knees, realizing that you were too far gone, too in love with Gogol.

He stopped when he looked up and noticed your bare neck. "Your ring...why isn't your necklace on?" You traced around the empty space, feeling how light it was now that it was gone. Nikolai smirked in response.

"I--"

"She doesn't need it anymore." Nikolai replied darkly, cutting you off. He laughed a bit, the expression not quite reaching his eyes. He turned to you, startling you a bit. "Actually, you threw it away yourself, didn't you, dove? 'Cause you don't love him anymore." You nodded affirmatively, exasperating your husband even more as he resumed his sobs. Nikolai only curled his lip up coyly at his reaction and brought one of hands down to stroke your inner thigh provocatively as another brought your chin up to kiss you passionately. Heat flowed throughout your body as you blushed deeply. You couldn't tell how much time passed as you felt dizzy after he slipped his tongue in. The anguished cries in the background were drowned out as Nikolai pulled away slowly, making you flustered from the string of saliva left behind.

He licked his lips satisfyingly and gave you a peck before whispering in your ear, "Go on, ptashka, tell him how you feel."

Flush still on your cheeks, you looked directly at your old partner, who was now shaking in agony, "He's right--he's not manipulating me, either. I'm not yours anymore, and I don't want our old life back. I--" Nikolai was still stroking your thigh and was dangerously close to your panties. "I--mmh--I'm in love with Kolya now, and I want to be with him." You missed the pink on Nikolai's face as you saw your husband practically collapse, banging on the ground as he bawled awfully.

"Y-you fucking slut! How could you betray me like this? A-nd your p-parents--w-what would they think about this?" You backed away from the cell, bothered by his yelling. You wished he would shut up already.

Your husband's rambling was stopped suddenly as the sound of a gun cocking reverberated off the brick walls. It was from Nikolai. He placed it in your hands while gazing into your eyes sincerely. "Dove, you've been trapped in this man's cage--stuck on a ride you want to get off, but you keep riding. I want you to decide...If you want to keep playing his game or live your own life."

Your eyes widened at that. This was your chance to change your life and free yourself from the burden of your old life. There was no more chasing rainbows and hoping for an end to them, no more waiting for an inconsiderate man to love you. There was no sure promise of a better life if you saved him and went back to him...

Shit, what the hell were you thinking about? Could you really kill someone by yourself so easily?

Brain an absolute conflicting mess, you felt like you had a war in your mind. You couldn't think clearly as your thoughts jumbled together, and the intensity of the cold metal was making you unsteady. Nikolai noticed and wrapped his warm hand around your shaky one, bringing it up to aim at your husband's head.

"Do you want him gone, myla?" He whispered into your ear, placing your finger over the trigger. "All you have to do is shoot, and it'll all be over." His soft whispers drowned out the sound of your husband begging for his life and backing away desperately in the background. Nikolai gave you the same warm smile as before and his usually dull right green eye was sparkling with emotion. In a strange way, it was comforting, reminding you that you weren't alone.

You didn't remember much after that, just feeling the gun go off and Nikolai's hand over yours, followed by a deafening silence. You winced as you felt something wet against the side of your skin and blood splattered across Nikolai's white clothes. You didn't dare look at your own shirt. Your heartbeat was so loud in your ears, and you swore you were about to explode. Nikolai was grinning and laughing maniacally, while you could barely register your own emotions. You slowly turned your head to peer into the cell, but Nikolai put his hand out to block your sight. It was probably for the better, anyways. The stillness already confirmed your husband was dead.

Instead, Nikolai put his hands around your face and crashed his lips onto yours possessively. You closed your eyes as he muttered sweet nothings in between kisses and wrapped your arms around his torso, collapsing as your body slowly gave out and the gun dropped to the floor.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Nikolai kissed your forehead gently again as he wrapped a warm towel around your shivering body. After leaving the murder scene, you'd taken a shower together. You guessed it was like 'washing away your crimes' and getting clean again. It was strange, despite how lovesick he was over you, he didn't touch you sexually at all while washing your body. You thanked him and mustered up a small smile as you turned away from towards the mirror.

"Are you still shaken up, myla?" From your--no, our--first kill?" You stared into your reflection and looked down, basically giving him your answer. "It's okay, it's human to feel guilt and remorse after a death...even a horrible monster like me still feels that way, too!" He beamed at you, giggling contagiously.

You pouted back at him, feeling a slight burden lifted off of you, "Don't call yourself that--you're my lover now..." You mumbled, blushing slightly. You could love each other openly now.

He smirked and hugged your waist, the fabric of his clean white button-up--unbuttoned and exposing his toned six pack--and black slacks pressing against your skin. He'd gotten ready while you were spacing out in front of the fogged-up mirror, but you couldn't help stopping to admire how handsome he was.

"Ahhhh, I almost forgot...I never told you why I fell in love with you in the first place, did I, dove? You looked up at him curiously and he kissed the tip of your nose, "It's because you reminded me of my past self. Unknowingly in a cage, slightly different from the rest--I still remember the pretty little smile you flashed me the day we met and how sweetly you treated me...kinda unprofessional by the way...flirting with a crazy man..." Nikolai slowly trailed his kisses over your jaw and down your neck, making you start to feel warm inside, "I wanted to free you from the control of the outside world...I could tell you already had the willingness to change and just needed a small push." You yelped as Nikolai bit down softly to mark your collarbone and dropped the towel from your body.

You instinctively tried to cover up your body, but Nikolai stopped your arms, placing them on the rim of the sink instead. His hands left your waist to fondle your tit, drawing circles around the hardened bud while his other hand crept down your stomach to slip over your slit. A familiar rose dusted your cheeks as he kissed your neck softly and a moan slipped out from you, "A-ahhh, K-Kolya..." He nudged your jaw up towards the mirror.

The fog had evaporated away, so you could now see your reflection. To see yourself in such a lewd, shameless state, completely naked while Nikolai was basically fully dressed was...you couldn't describe it. He tenderly kissed your skin again before grinning at the mirror and taking his hand off your chest to lift up your face.

"Look how cute you are, dove. You really love my touch, huh~?" He pulled his slick-covered fingers out from your thighs and licked them clean. Watching him do it through the mirror was an enticing sight: it made you want more. Nikolai wasn't oblivious to your slight panting and trembling either. "Watch clearly as I make love to you, pryntsesa." His fingers dipped back into your cunt, parting your folds as his middle finger slipped inside of you while his thumb played with your clit. His other hand resumed massaging your breasts as he licked down his trail of kisses. You couldn't help but mewl at his actions, getting wetter watching the sight in front of you.

It was strange, he was typically rough and forward, but he was unusually soft with you this time. You didn't have time to think about why as he inserted another finger and went at a slightly faster pace, making you start to rock your hips against his hand. You moaned as the sensation coursed through your lower half, fingers gripping the rim of the sink and ass arching into his back, making you blush when you brushed against his clothed bulge.

"Mmmm~Kolya...your fingers...they're--ahh--s'good--"

"Y-yeah? You like 'em, pretty girl?" He heaved into your ear. He wanted to be gentle with you today, but the sight of you in the mirror and the way you were moaning his name so angelically was making him more hot and bothered than he wanted to admit. "C-cum whenever you want, 'kay?" Nikolai pumped his fingers more intensely into you, needy to make you finish as you struggled against his hold, the pressure making you lose balance and lean forward. He sturdied you against his chest again and captured your lips to pull you into a deep kiss, your tongues wrapping around each other.

The coil in your stomach got tighter as his long fingers pressed against your sweet spot, and his pointer and thumb coming together to pinch your sensitive clit finally sent you over the edge. You cried out his name as you came all over his fingers, staining the front of his pants and shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. Nikolai gently kissed away your tears as you came down from your high, hugging your waist and caressing your sides.

You gasped as you heard him unzipping his damp slacks, and you looked in the mirror, your eyes traveling straight down to his hardened member. Nikolai started stroking his length slowly, pale pink tip sticky with pre-cum, as he lowly groaned your name. "S-sorry dove, I--fuck--wanted to play with you more, but I--ah--can't wait any longer..." Heat went straight to your core upon hearing that.

"I-it's fine, p-put it in..." You looked back at him sweetly before parting your folds with your pretty nails, and he grunted after seeing some of your arousal drip down your thighs.

"F-fuck, myla, you're so beautiful~" You hissed at the feeling of Nikolai teasing past your slit before entering you slowly. Even though he'd prepped you more than last time, you still whimpered lightly from the stretch, secretly making him smirk pridefully. He silenced your moans with another gentle kiss as he started thrusting inside of you, lewd sounds bouncing off the walls. Both of his hands went back to your tits to play with them again as he broke away from the kiss, groaning into your neck as he pushed deeper into your pussy. It wasn't enough for him, though.

He lifted your leg up slightly and bent it slightly at an angle before drilling his cock harder into your cunt, your hands pressing close to the mirror as your back arched, so he could go deeper inside you. Nikolai groaned and bit his lip as your walls clenched around his length. He soothed your pleasured cries by kissing down your back, pressing his abs against your hot skin. The foggy reflection of your tits bouncing up and down with his movements and the fucked-out expression on your face made him moan lowly, praising you for taking him so well.

You whined at the tight feeling in your core as your pussy sucked in his cock. The feeling was so good you were moving your hips back and forth to meet his thrusts, ass recoiling perfectly in response. Nikolai was still hyper-focused on leaving hickeys on your skin and squeezing your tender nipples, and his hot breath tickling your neck was driving you crazy. He groaned as you squeezed his length again, pre-cum starting to leave a creamy ring at the base of his cock.

"A-ahh~ I'm close--keep going, p-please--" You begged, desperate to cum and hoping he wouldn't edge you like last time. He smirked, pleased by how needy you were. He nodded, locking you in another messy kiss as his free hand traveled down to your hips. Nikolai pulled away from you slightly before re-entering you harshly, making you see stars.

You choked on your moans as you whimpered his name, pussy clenching around him even more. He was breathing heavily, and his thrusts were getting slower and messier, signaling that he was close, too. You got up slightly on your elbows and looked back at him affectionately, "I love you, Nikolai."

His eyes widened as he pulled your back against his chiseled stomach and buried his face into the crook of your neck, secretly blushing like crazy. His strong arms came back to wrap around your waist, making you yelp when you felt him all the way inside you. "L-love you, too, dove~" He rasped quietly as he came in your pretty cunt.

The warmth made you moan as you followed with your second orgasm, panting at the euphoric sensation. Only Nikolai could make you feel like this. He pulled out slowly and turned your fragile body around towards him, hugging you intimately and kissing your forehead softly. He tucked your damp hair behind your ear and kissed the spot again, "You did so good, myla." You hugged him back, nuzzling into his chest and blushing when you heard his frantic heartbeat.

"I'm so happy you're mine now..." He whispered quietly, kissing your head again before steadying you against the sink to wet a towel and clean himself off. Nikolai bent down a bit to wipe you down, and you impulsively ruffled his fluffy white hair, making him giggle and plant a small kiss on your inner thigh. You smiled adoringly.

So he has his soft moments, too, huh.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Your and Nikolai's hands were intertwined as he led you to a grand dining room. Apparently, you were supposed to have dinner and meet two other members of the Decay of Angels. You fidgeted nervously as you approached the grand dining table, which was decorated with gold candelabras and a cream cloth table runner. Despite the warm decorations, the room still had a slight eerie feel.

The two men seated at the end of the dining table looked up at you. Nikolai had given you some fresh clothes, lending you one of his oversized chunky cream sweaters and a silk midi skirt that he'd quickly sewn out of the sheets. From the occasion, you'd learned about his surprising little hobby. On the other hand, he kept on his white button-up--now loosely buttoned--and just changed into a different pair of black and white striped pants.

Nikolai placed his hand on your waist and beamed excitedly, "Sigma, Dos, meet Dove! She's my lover and is going to be staying with us from now on!" He pushed you forward a bit and you nervously bowed.

"N-nice to meet you both. Thanks for accepting me, and I hope we all get along." You cursed yourself mentally for not coming off as confident as you wanted, but you couldn't help but crack slightly under the two men's stares.

Dos, who was sitting at the head of the table merely sneered silently and continued glaring at you as you sat down next to Nikolai. The man sitting across from you offered you a bashful smile instead, "N-nice to meet you, too. I'm Sigma." You smiled back at him, secretly grateful that he was trying to cut the tension.

Nikolai clapped his hands, "Okay, we've gotten introductions out of the way! Let's eat now~" Your eyes drifted to the bowl of pelmeni soup and borodinsky bread in front of you. To be honest, you were starving but concerned since Dos hadn't touched his food at all and was still intently staring you down.

Sigma cleared his throat and spoke up again, "Y-you can eat the food. It isn't poisoned or anything. Ivan made it." Ivan? You didn't know who that was, but you nodded and thanked him quietly, trying a spoonful of the soup. You wished you could just scarf it down, but you decided to eat in a ladylike manner as to leave a good impression.

You weren't quite sure if you'd impressed Dos, though, who had finally introduced himself as Fyodor Dostoyevsky a few minutes later, resting his chin on his linked hands.

"Welcome. We're the Decay of Angels, a terrorist organization that commits murders and causes great fear and suffering--find a way to make yourself useful or you'll be disposed of--" He stared straight into your eyes, "--by me personally." Your heartbeat increased in fear and your hands went slightly clammy upon hearing that.

Nikolai put down his spoon, "Oi! Be a bit more gentle with her, will you?" Fyodor's gaze left you and he turned to Nikolai, "I know this is the first woman you've interacted with face-to-face in years, but you're already threatening her? Seriously? No wonder you're single..."

Fyodor's eyebrow twitched in response as Sigma turned away, obviously trying to stifle a laugh, and he and Nikolai glared daggers at each other. You hid your face in embarrassment as Fyodor scoffed annoyedly and dismissed himself from the table, taking his dinner with him. So much for getting along.

"God, he hates me now...he's probably going to murder me in my sleep..." You looked sadly at Nikolai, but he only grinned snidely.

"Don't worry about it, ptashka, Dos is just like that. Anyways, the mood's lightened up so much now that he's gone, right?" He giggled maniacally--unserious as always. Sigma chimed in as well, trying to cheer you up,

"Y-yeah! To be honest, I haven't spoken to him much, either, and I've been here for a while. He's just the serious, loner type." You weren't convinced fully, which he noticed. "I-I'm the general manager of the sky casino." You looked up and nodded, hearing about it before--a luxurious place for people to gamble away their fortunes and essentially be ungoverned and off-the-grid. "If you're not doing anything tomorrow, why don't you come and visit? I'll give you some money, on the house!" You perked up at that, taking up Sigma on his offer, much to his relief.

"I'll be going, too, just so you know." Nikolai butted in, making Sigma sigh and tell Nikolai he wasn't invited didn't have to come with. The two bickered back and forth, Nikolai being insistent on going to the casino with you two.

You giggled at that, they were just like real friends. Perhaps your stay here wouldn't be too bad--at least now one more person liked you. Sigma and Nikolai stopped arguing after hearing you laugh and looked at each other before smiling softly at you. You yelped as Nikolai jumped at you suddenly to attack your face with kisses, making Sigma cringe.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You'd finished dinner with Nikolai and Sigma, successfully being cheered up from the previous tension. It wasn't too long-lived though, as Nikolai had asked you to get Fyodor's dirty dishes. You tried to object, but he'd simply just waved his hand at you while he resumed washing the dishes with Sigma.

Knocking on the door to Dos's room, you hesitantly cleared your throat and spoke, "Can I come in? I just need to get your dishes." You heard him shuffle around and click his tongue,

"The door's unlocked. Come in." You gulped before turning the knob and entering. The stone room was cold and barren, with the only 'decoration' being a table holding several different monitors and keyboards. The room was only lit by the screens, which were circling with code and all sorts of data. Fyodor didn't even try to acknowledge your presence or turn around, so you just tried to step around the various cords on the floor and grab his bowl in front of him.

He was reading a book in his chair and still didn't speak a word, but you could feel his glares cutting into the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You grabbed the bowl and turned back around--again trying to avoid stepping on any cords--and your eyes curiously tried to see what book he was reading.

He rotated his chair briefly, "You know, being a housewife isn't--"

"Crime and Punishment?! Oh, I remember reading that book in the asylum's library. It's a great commentary on the transformative power of guilt and the possibility of redemption, isn't it?" You chirped, instantly regretting your impulsive input on the book. Why did you have to be such a bookworm?

Fyodor's eyes widened slightly as he closed his mouth, truly caught off-guard, "Yes, it is." He went back to his book as you shyly smiled and made your way through the cords, back finally turned away from him. He paused, "You can borrow it if you like. I can give it to you tomorrow after breakfast."

You stopped in your tracks, turning your head slightly. You were only met with the sight of his chair, though. "R-really? T-that would be nice, actually...Thank you." You trailed slowly towards the door before leaving. "G-goodnight!" Flustered, you closed the door quickly, missing him saying it back and the pale rose that was dusting his cheeks.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Life with the Decay of Angels had been going surprisingly well. It had been two months since Nikolai had taken you to the base, and you'd adjusted in that time span.

You got close with Sigma, who admitted he was a bit intimidated and scared of you at first because you were Nikolai's lover, but he was relieved you weren't exactly like him. Fyodor had become more open and accepting of you, and you both mostly connected over the literature he would share with you. Nikolai tried to keep you away from him as much as possible, though he would never tell you why...

You had become a decoy of sorts and helped Nikolai on the ground with disguises and espionage. Currently, you were both infiltrating Mersault. You had learned that the true reason for Nikolai coming to the asylum was to get a hold of the space-creating ability that both Mersault and the asylum were built with. Fyodor was hoping to harness it to build a secret, impenetrable base for the Decay of Angels.

Criminal profiling and socialization skills from your previous attendant position had come in handy when going undercover, along with your "feminine charm" that none of the other members possessed. Of course, Nikolai was all too excited to have you working with him, never missing the chance for quickies or subtle flirting and teasing. You couldn't exactly say that you hated it, though...

Whenever you walked around in public, you would occasionally see a "missing" poster with your face and information on it. You would always discreetly rip up and toss them, though, having no desire to be found or go back to your old life.

After all, you'd finally crossed the threshold from the ordinary world to a new life with your true lover. You'd been freed, and you were never going back.

˚₊‧꒰ა bad ending໒꒱ ‧₊˚

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acapelladitty · 5 days

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Trouble Like A Mugshot (1.5k)

Pairing: Lucy Maclean/Cooper Howard

Summary: After a long day of travelling the wastelands, Lucy is feeling horny and asks Cooper if he wants to have sex with her. A question which is much more complicated than she could have possibly known.

(A/N: I might turn this into a short series of moments showcasing the pairs developing relationship from this to hard nsfw if that's something folks would like to see.)

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Part 2 (link)

Lucy Maclean was no stranger to the difficult to ignore feelings which were pressing at her body. Fingers slightly trembling, breath coming in shorter bursts than she would admit to, eyes unable to pull themselves fully away from the lounging ghoul who reclined in his nearby bunk with a relaxed stance; cowboy hat tipped across his face as he feigned sleep.

Lucy Maclean knew herself enough to understand that her restlessness wasn't the radition sickness which had recently started to touch at her peripherals again. Nor was it the fact that it had been weeks since she'd had any time to herself that wasn't shadowed by either her ghoulish companion or some other entity.

Lucy Maclean was horny and she was never one to deny herself a simple, sneaky little indulgence when the mood took her.

"Hey, Cooper." She called, fingers rolling across her bare forearms as she sat with her back to the wall, legs crossed in a neat pile. "You awake and listening to me?"

"Hard not to with those foghorn vocals." A grumpy response, muffled by the hat rang back at her. "What are you yapping your flap about?

"Do you want to have sex?"

In their time together, Lucy had never witnessed Cooper doing anything that her vault lessons had taught her were sexual acts. He didn't touch himself around her, didn't disappear for some self-relief as the boys did, didn't make any kind of pass at her like some of the others had done before her husband had been selected. As far as she knew, maybe the ghoul didn't even feel the same things she did, and that realisation made her roll back on her question almost as quickly as she had asked it.

"I mean, if you can have sex that is. I don't know if your," Lucy paused, unsure how to describe her partners physical state without causing offence, "condition, makes it possible. I don't even know if you have the right parts for it but there's other ways of experiencing pleasure. We could use our mou-"

Cutting herself off as her babbling reach a new octave, Lucy watched as Cooper's body - his frame stock still since she had asked her initial question - finally stirred into action. A reddened hand slowly rose from its position by his hip until it reached the cowboy hat, plucking the leather from his face as he turned to look at his bunkmate and travelling companion with an indescribable expression; various emotions fluttering through his typically stoic face.

"I know your experiences with ghouls are limited, princess." Cooper spoke patiently, voice low as he fired the hated nickname at her, her vocal dislike of the new monkier making it a very quick favourite of his. "But the whole package is still intact so let's get that established before you go telling people falsehoods about my good person."

"Okay. Noted." Lucy held her hands up apologetically and her knees touched as she lounged against the concrete wall which was supporting her. "But you didn't answer me. Do you want to? Have sex, I mean? Last time i did was with my assigned husband and it was good enough, great even, but then he tried to kill me and it was this whole thing."

Mentally filing that information away for future use and subtle further investigation, Cooper lay back fully against his own cot and tilted his head closer in her direction, thankful for the dimness of their shared room as it shielded most of his features.

"As much as I'd love to bury my bone in a new patch of land, I don't think that's necessarily the best choice in terms of this little partnership we've stitched together."

Indicating his sewn finger, he wagged it at her dismissively as a discomforting sensation flooded his stomach, mild arousal at the thought of some tail mixing with something dangerous that set his teeth on edge.

"Why not? It's only sex."

Suddenly feeling older than he had any right to, Cooper fell silent as he mused on her question for a moment.

Lucy Maclean.

Eyes as big as a doe, that girl was built soft but he was lucky enough to see people for what they truly were and the steel which lurked beneath the painful optimism and naivety that shone free of her would make her a dangerous player if she ever truly entered the game. He felt the burden of his own cruelty at times, cornering her into making decisions that would cause her little vaultie friends to vomit if they knew the violence she enacted, but with every difficult choice came a fresh coating to that steel which would see her survive and thrive in the wastelands.

It's only sex.

In his life, Cooper Howard had enjoyed less sexual partners than many would believe. A sticky fumbling in the upper level of an old barn had been his first, the other party a sweet girl from a nearby ranch who was two years older and knew what she wanted from him. Pretty soon after that came Barb and as soon as he laid eyes on her he never saw anything past her.

War was terrible for the other men and many lost themselves in drink and the women who haunted the barracks and backlines looking for poor souls to feed on. But not him. Never him.

Not when he had to come home to Barb.

Even when married and at the height of his fame, when aspiring young things would throw themselves at him, their perfumes overpowered by the stink of wine and cigarettes, he had rebuffed them politely. He was loyal and he enjoyed the fruits of that loyalty as he held his wife in his arms and basked in the sweet sounds that she would make as they fucked. Hell, she had even given him a daughter and he loved her every day for it.

War never changes.

But he did.

And fuck him if his new appearance and designation as a Ghoul didn't screw him out of any chance of some stress relief as he wandered the wastelands. Might as well have been a fucking leper for all the tail which was now afforded to him and his leathery visage.

Not for Lucy Maclean though.

She, it seemed, didn't care about any of that.

"Did I say something wrong? The leaders explained all acts of intercourse to us so I know what I'm doing and I consent fully."

Lucy's voice, heated with an almost defensive lilt, broke into his musings and Cooper blinked at her as the hole that made up his nose flared while he inhaled deeply.

"I don't doubt that, darling. I've seen how you handle a pistol." Reverting to his typical sarcasm as he looked, truly looked, at her, Cooper sighed at the earnestness which oozed from her features. "But I'm gonna have to decline. Politely."

"Is it because of me? Did i do somethig wrong? I mean, my husband didn't seem to mind but then he was planning on killing me anyway so y'know?" Making a wild gesture with her fingers as she spoke, the casualness of her speech wasn't enough to mask the genuine insecurity which threaded through the questions.

"You're fine. Attractive little thing, even. I think any man would jump at the chance to have you wrapped around them like an old holster."

He wasn't lying- and he wasn't blind. She was a good looking young woman, her innocence flickering like the dull embers of a welcoming fire in the darkness of the wastelands. She was enthusiastic, eager, and damn pretty with those big eyes and curved figure which hid beneath the bulky clothes which she used for protection. More than once he'd caught himself glancing at her as she bent to snatch up things from the floor and the few times he did allow himself to fall into something like sleep featured breathy moans and the feeling of long, brunette strands brushing through his ungloved hands. Mouthy too so he knew she would be a vocal one - probably yowling like a hellcat.

It would be so easy to have her.

A simple yes and she would no doubt leap into action, shedding those clothes as quickly as did her weapons when trying to find peaceful solutions to violent problems. He would treat her right, everh inch the gentleman cowboy and no doubt much better than that shady husband she'd unwittingly fucked. He'd show her things with his fingers and mouth that would have her screaming loud enough to wake up all the devils in hell. Against the cot, against the wall and against whatever furniture she wanted, he could show her how a real man treats a woman as they both burned off some stress.

Feeling a very definite stirring in his groin, Cooper was quick to banish the dangerous thoughts.

"But a bad man like me shouldn't be allowed near a pretty little thing yourself. You're ready for a lot, Lucy Maclean, but you ain't ready for that."

Something almost like understanding passed through her gaze and Lucy nodded, instead exhaling deeply as she tapped the back of her head against the wall behind her.

"In that case, would you mind leaving for an hour so that I can masturbate, please?"

Cursing himself for the little shred of morality which plucked at his heart and refused to allow him to ruin this unknowing tease of a woman, Cooper dutifully rose to his feet and marched to the nearby door.

"You get half an hour." He grunted, barely tilting his head towards her as he stormed out into the nighttime air - determined to get far enough away that there was no chance that he would hear her and break his determined stance.

Besides, he might not be fucking her but as his cock pressed against his slacks, he wasn't masochistic enough to deny himself a similar pleasure and the distance would also give him some much needed alone time.

Goddamn Lucy Maclean.

#fallout #fallout amazon #lucy maclean #cooper howard #lucy x cooper #ghoucy #lucy x ghoul #cooper x lucy #ghoul x lucy #fallout smut #walton goggins #ella purnell #vaultghoul #ghoulcy

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anakin-pilled · 4 months

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𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part two)

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader

wordcount: 4.7k

warnings: no use of y/n

rating: rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)

author's note: thank you so much to everyone who liked and reblogged the first chapter! it meant so much to me. i cant believe i managed to push out two chapters in a week!! this chapter might seem slow, but only because im still new to writing fanfics and im trying to find the right groove of things, but please be patient as i hope to fasten the pace and tension with the new few chapters. as always, proofread but please let me know if you see any mistakes and feel free to nicely provide any criticism or suggestions (pls). i really want to keep everything as canon compliant to the star wars universe (minus the timeline, that's unspecified), but i decided to take some creative liberties for minor cultural and geographic details. i get most of my information from wookiepedia or the star wars reddit, so if you have any questions about anything, i'm happy to send any links. okay im gonna stop yapping now. taglist at the bottom! creds to saradika for the header!

You couldn’t bear another moment of dinner with Anakin. Something about him set your nerves on fire and left you completely unsettled–in a good way, a way that you’ve rarely felt before. But it was a way that you didn’t know how to deal with, and this deeply troubled you. How were you going to spend the next ten rotations with him? It sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. You doubted Anakin would do anything wrong. No, you would be the one to do something wrong. Totally embarrassing yourself in front of him or unintentionally acting off-putting just because you found him too attractive.

Dammit, you were thinking like a schoolgirl with a crush.

After retreating to your quarters, you began to pace around your room. You had to get yourself out of this situation. Avoidance was always your favorite escape plan. It made life simpler when you avoided anything that made you uncomfortable or anxious. You weren’t exactly sure how you would avoid the 6’2 hunk of a Jedi. Asking Gido to remove him was out of the question. You couldn’t have Anakin removed, especially after the Chancellor had been kind enough to request one of the Jedi’s best members. You were being immature and you knew it. It hadn’t even been a full day and this man already made you so nervous that you felt like going haywire.

You gave yourself a small facepalm. “What am I going to do?” you whispered to yourself. You needed to put distance between you and Anakin. That way you would stay as unaffected as possible. Plus, it’s not like anything could happen between you two. Anakin was a Jedi, and you knew that the Jedi had some unorthodox rules surrounding relationships. However (a small and delusional) part of you already imagined a future between the two of you. You already imagined your lips on his. A man that captivating only came around every few millennia. Well, that was hyperbolic of you to think. Even you, a celebrity with access to Coruscant’s rich and famous upper echelon, never came across a man like Anakin. When was the last time you even got fucked or had one good Holodrama kiss? Dating is hard when you’re a celebrity. You meet people with the wrong intentions–cocky men who care more about having you as some sort of trophy or are afraid of looking beneath you just because you’re more rich than them. Plus, aside from the shitty dating pool, you were simply too busy with your career to indulge in relationships and sex. It honestly quite was ironic considering many of your songs revolved around love.

The more you thought, the more you felt trapped in your room. An intrusive thought popped into your head, but you quickly brushed away the thought before it got you in trouble. But then the thought appeared again, and you couldn’t help but entertain what your brain was saying.

Her presence is suffocating is the first thing Anakin thought as you left the room. As a trained Jedi, Anakin mastered the practice of shielding others' thoughts and emotions from affecting him. But you were being so loud through the Force. Anakin felt the same nervous energy he felt earlier in the day when he first met you. Except this time, he felt it ten times worse.

Anakin knew he was being quiet during dinner. But it was hard to focus with your energy screaming in his ears! So, he focused on trying to enjoy his meal instead. You were nice, Anakin would give you that. But he felt if he talked to you, while also trying to stave off your energy from his, he would overwhelm himself. It was all too distracting–a feeling that Anakin rarely felt.

Anakin then proceeded toward his assigned room, ready to prepare for the night. Luckily, he didn’t have to stay on guard the entire night as there was no threat direct threat to you in Coruscant. Sleep slowly became a stranger to Anakin in the past few months, so he welcomed the guest room’s luxurious, canopy bed with an unrefined flop. He lay there for a while, though he didn’t know how for long as he just stared at the window in front of him and thought.

Anakin suddenly heard a crash! noise coming from the living room. He quickly jumped into action and ran towards the sound. What if an intruder was trying to harm you? Anakin wouldn’t let them get near you. Though he would protect you, a pang of annoyance ran through Anakin’s head. How could anyone gain access to your apartment? He went through your security details with Gido and made sure that all access points were being guarded by either a security guard or a droid. Anakin hoped this wouldn’t become another Padme situation–he wasn’t in the mood for a high-speed speeder chase tonight. Better yet, why didn’t he sense anything? Were you distracting him so much that his senses were dull? Anakin couldn’t have that happening if you were both to survive the next ten rotations together.

As Anakin reached your living room and investigated the sound, he saw what object made the sound he heard. His eyes first laid sight on a broken flower vase. The turquoise vase was shattered into a million pieces on the floor. Anakin then looked at the figure next to the broken pottery and there you were, dressed in a dark robe, halfway to the entrance of your apartment. A look of shock, then brief fear and then embarrassment, went through your eyes when you saw Anakin standing before you with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows raised.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Anakin questioned you with a glare. His voice had a deep edge to it. He was relieved that there was no intruder, but he wondered what you were doing. If he didn’t know any better, Anakin would say that it looked like you were in the middle of trying to leave your apartment. Except, Anakin did know better so he knew that was exactly what you were trying to do. The dark robes were a telltale sign of this–it disguised your figure and the hood covered a majority of your face.

You cleared your throat before putting on a tight-lipped smile, “Oh, I was just trying to night walk in the gardens before going to bed.”

“The gardens? I thought they were closed for renovations. That’s what Gido told me.” There was a slight smirk on Anakin’s face as he replied. He knew he had you.

“Not for me. I have special access…you know, the building manager is a fan of mine. Perks of being famous.” You felt slimy using that as an excuse, but it was better than letting the Jedi know your true intentions.

“Really?” Anakin admired you for doubling down on your lie, but once again, he could sense your energy through the force. You were hesitant, like you weren’t fully convinced of what you were saying either. Anakin continued, “Then why are you wearing such a thick robe? The weather has been warm lately, even at night. Don’t you think that you would sweat too much?”

You chuckled nervously before saying, “I sweat all the time.” You quickly shook your head. Kriff that’s not what I meant! you cursed in your head. “I mean I’m used to sweating during practice and performances so it does not bother me too much. I felt chilly which is why I decided to wear my robe on my walk. Please excuse me for disturbing you, General. I must have been in such a rush that I accidentally knocked over this vase. I assure you that I did not intend to raise any alarm.”

“It looks like you were sneaking out to me. Is that why you feel so tense right now? You know, we Jedi can sense emotion. I can sense that you’re not being truthful. There’s no lying to me, pop star.” Anakin replied smoothly.

You shook your head. It looks like your plan of trying to put distance between you and Anakin wasn’t going to work after all. You should have known–how could you outsmart a Jedi? It was easy to sneak out with your regular security staff, but Anakin was different.

“I apologize. You’re right. I wasn’t going to take a walk in the gardens. I thought I could visit the night market on level 3204, the Alderaan district. I just needed to clear my head. I didn’t tell because I didn’t think there would be an issue since I was going to keep my identity hidden.” Anakin noted how your apology sounded genuine.

“Level 3204. Isn’t that a bit far from you? I never suspected that you would stray anywhere past the 5000th level,” said Anakin. When people on Coruscant managed to achieve enough wealth to live on the 5000th level of Coruscant, it was very rare that they ventured anywhere below. The only people that ventured below were those dealing in shady business. That’s not to say that the 3000th level was necessarily bad–he knew that the lower levels were a mixture of the classes ranging from middle-class families to criminals. Anakin had been to almost all the levels of Corscant while on Jedi business. He had seen the most impoverished slums, where crime was rampant and everyone fended for themselves. Yet, he had also seen the richest that Coruscant had to offer–elegant restaurants, opulent theaters, and people dressed in the most expensive fabrics. It always amazed Anakin how in the capital city of the Republic, one of the richest planets in the galaxy, could house such a dichotomy.

You took offense to Anakin’s words. What did he know about you? Sure, you were wealthy and privileged, but that didn’t mean you had to confine yourself to a small circle of society. You enjoyed visiting what Coruscant had to offer–the different cultures, species, etc. It may have been unconventional for someone of your status, but your parents raised you with humility. Anything you earned in this life could be taken away from you at any moment, so you tried your best to explore and enjoy everything while you still could.

Now you weren’t thinking about this annoyingly handsome face or soft curls. You were thinking about how he pissed you off. Just another person making assumptions about who I am. Your eyes narrowed before dignifying Anakin with a response, “And where is it that I belong? Please enlighten me. What? Do you think just because I am rich, I wouldn’t dare mingle with anyone in a lower class than me?”

“That’s not how I intended my words to come across.”

“How did you mean for your words to come across?” Anakin felt your energy shift. You were no longer hesitant or nervous.

“What I mean is that it is unorthodox for celebrities to venture anywhere below Coruscant’s surface. It’s not exactly the most celebrity-friendly place. I would know as I’ve to the 3000th level several times before,” Anakin explained.

“Well, I’m an unorthodox person then. I’ll let you know that I enjoy the night market in the Alderaan district, it has good food and honest people. Now, you can either accompany me or stay here and make more assumptions about me. Whatever you choose, I will still be attending the night market. Feel free to tell Gido.” You turned around and continued walking toward your front door before you were stopped by Anakin.

“Kriff. You’re not going to make this easy, huh? Fine. I’m going with you to the market because it’s my duty to protect you, but don’t try anything.”

You first discovered this night market in Coruscant’s Alderaan district only a few months into your arrival on the planet. Your fame had not skyrocketed yet, so you could easily travel between Coruscant’s levels without being chased by HoloNet reporters or crazy fans. You stumbled upon the market one night while lost on level 3204. It was a serendipitous moment for you. The night market operated every night and was primarily inhabited by Alderaanian expats, however, there were a few stalls run by species from exotic planets who sold even more exotic goods and foods. At the time you discovered it, you were feeling homesick and lonely. Your home planet of Bar’leth was nothing like Coruscant. Though Bar’leth had some metropolitan cities, it also had greenery and fauna. And the population wasn’t nearly as dense as Coruscant! You grew up in Bar’leth’s capital city, but you could still name your neighbors and there was a sense of community. Coruscant had none of these features. The night market was more than just a market, it reminded you of a tiny piece of home in the most bustling place in all of the galaxy.

The familiar smell of grilled bantha skewers and roasted pormork flooded your senses. The area was decorated with a mixture of bright, fluorescent neon lighting and the warm, cozy light from twinkle lights from the vendor’s stalls. Light music played in the background from a live band playing in a corner somewhere. Though the market was mainly filled with adults, the occasional child and their family were seen. You and Anakin walked at a comfortable place in the middle of the road. Neither of you was talking, just observing the scene around you. You observed how people interacted with each other and made up life stories for them in your head. Anakin observed for any potential danger.

“I’m sorry for snapping on you earlier. I hate when people make assumptions about who I am. It’s a sensitive spot for me. You know, with my name always in the tabloids,” it was you who decided to speak first.

Anakin listened before responding, “Maybe I was wrong to make those assumptions about you.” He still thought it was odd that you wanted to venture so below the surface, but if there was one thing that Anakin understood, it was your disdain for assumptions. As the Chosen One, everyone made assumptions about Anakin—assumptions he should act or think. And somehow, Anakin always failed to live up to people’s assumptions of him. There were very few people in his life who accepted him the way he was. This was another point of contention in his life.

Instead of letting this event take place in a silent awkwardness like dinner, you decided to make an effort to keep the conversation going. Anakin didn’t directly apologize, but you took his words to be a positive sign. “I know it must be a shock to you that I wanted to visit this market. And you were partially right to judge, who would suspect that I stray far from my life on the surface? The truth is, no one would expect that from me which is exactly why I do what I do. Not even Gido knows that I come down here.”

“What makes this specific place worth sneaking out for? Aren’t there any other places you would rather be than down here?” Anakin asked this question sincerely. He was curious about you. While he was no stranger to Coruscant’s rich elite, the people he met were confined the the political sector. He knew how politicians acted and their thought processes, but he knew nothing about the other type of elite—the celebrities, like you.

“It reminds me of home, and the simple days I used to live before the glitz and glamour. There was a farmer’s market on Bar’leth I frequented with my family. There was local produce, lots of gourmet food, and trinkets of all kinds. I stumbled upon this market by happenstance one day and I never stopped visiting it ever since,” you explain truthfully. You loved the life you lived now and you were extremely grateful for it. But nothing could compare to your old life when you could enjoy the simple pleasures of life without any care in the world. Nowadays life barely gives you a chance to breathe since you were always working on something–whether it is new music, media appearances, or special performances. “You know, you’re actually the first person I have told about this place. You better keep it a secret, or else.” Anakin could tell you were joking by the smile on your face. He returned your joke with a small smile of his own.

You continued the conversation by asking Anakin a question of his own, “Don’t you have a special place that you like to visit when life gets too hectic?”

Anakin’s automatic response was to give you a generic answer. Before he could give you that generic answer, he changed his mind. He knew that was too guarded, but he couldn’t help himself. Anakin had been hurt too many times now–hurt by life, by his actions, and by the actions of others. Opening up was a recipe for disaster, especially when Anakin knew how passionately he felt about almost everything in his life. The only person Anakin managed to completely open up to was Padme, but even she was off-put sometimes by the level of passion and truthfulness he displayed. She never verbally admitted it, but Anakin could tell. Though you two didn’t know each other very well and have had minimal conversation so far, something about your energy invited Anakin to open up. Your energy in the force was serene. However, it wasn’t the type of serenity that Anakin felt whenever he was at the Temple. At the Temple, it was so peaceful, it was almost like it was devoid of any energy–it perfectly balanced all the energies of all the Jedi order and created a feeling of equilibrium. Your energy was serene in a way that reminded Anakin of his mother–comforting and warm. He could feel it radiating off your person. Ever since Anakin left with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, he could never sense that same energy in anyone else. Not even Padme, whose energy was more dynamic and loud. Thus, Anakin decided to be honest with his answer.

“There is a place that I like to escape to sometimes. It is located in a secluded corner of the Jedi temple and only accessible through the garden wing. I used to go there all the time as a Youngling and then a Padawan. It has the best view of Coruscant since it faces the intersection where the old Republic Theater house and Senate offices meet. On clear days, you can watch the sunset from there.” Anakin didn’t know that the Senate offices were in that direction until a few years after he moved to Coruscant. Once he found out Padme had stepped down as queen and became Naboo’s senator, he would stare at that intersection as a way to feel closer to Padme during their years apart. Despite the breakup, the spot still comforted Anakin because it served as a reminder of how far he had come. He was no longer a lovesick fool and rambunctious Padawan, but a mature and fully-fledged Jedi Knight. Through the transitional nature of life, that spot would always be there for Anakin.

It was your turn to nod and listen to Anakin.

“How was it like…growing up in the Temple?,” you hesitated, not wanting to overstep any boundaries with Anakin. You remember how the tone of his voice earlier when you questioned him about Tatooine.

“Growing up in the temple was…different. When I first arrived, I didn’t realize I would be living in a religious organization. There’s a lot about the Jedi that was very different from the life I lived on Tatooine. Though I can’t complain too much, I had a permanent roof over my head and food on my plate every day. And, there was practically no sand at all. The best part,” Anakin finished.

“I imagine it’s like one big family, no?”

Anakin sucked his teeth in response before continuing, “Since I arrived at the Temple later than the normal age, I didn’t grow up with my crèche. We had lessons together every now and then, but if there was anybody I considered like family to be in the Temple, it would be my former master Obi-Wan, and my Padawan Ashoka. She’s actually a fan—I promised her I would try to get an autograph.” Anakin looked sheepish at the mention of the autograph.

“Remind me before you leave. I’ll make sure to sign something. Should I sign her lightsaber?” You made sure to make a serious face while looking at Anakin. Then, you let out a giggle. “I’m only kidding about the last part. Come on, let’s get something sweet.” Your pace picked up before leading Anakin in another direction.

You stopped by a stall owned by an older Twi’lek lady who sold homemade rishi honeystix. The honeystix quickly became your favorite item at the market because of its’ sweet flavor and crispy batter. They were similar to a childhood favorite snack of yours, except the rishi honeystix was fried, not baked.

“Can I have two honeystix please?” you asked the owner. She nodded yes before you handed her over the credits, adding some extra for a tip. The owner quickly prepared the dessert before handing it to you and sending a warm smile to both.

“Enjoy the sweet treat! I love seeing young couples like you visit the market,” she stated with a look of adoration on her face.

You and Anakin straightened your postures and sent a sheepish smile to the owner.

“Oh, we’re not-” “She’s not my-” You both said at the same time.

The owner giggled out an apology before turning her back on the both of you and preoccupied herself with preparing more food.

Her comment affected you more than you would have liked to admit. You couldn’t say you wished you were dating Anakin, you hard knew him after all. But the idea of someone mistaking you to be in a relationship with someone as attractive as Anakin made you feel a funny feeling. You felt a moment of giddy before telling yourself to calm down.

You led Anakin toward an old fountain that sat in the middle of the market. “Ever tried these before? They’re the best! I don’t come here too often anymore, but whenever I do, I make an effort to buy these.” You then handed Anakin his dessert.

“I don’t think I have had these before. The Jedi diet consists of the Temple’s cantina food and whatever rations we have for off-world assignments. Though I try to explore new foods when I have the chance,” Anakin stated. He picked up the dessert and observed it. Anakin didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he was intrigued by its flavor. A sweet aroma wafted off the dessert and even Anakin felt tempted to try it.

You were looking toward the distance as Anakin inspected the dessert. You were about to take a bit of your honeystix when you made eye contact with a small figure in the distance. As your eyes focused on the figure, you realized you were looking at a young Rodian child. Their gaze shifted from your eyes to the dessert in hand. Despite the Alderaanian district being one of the more wealthy districts in the lower levels, many families still lived in borderline poverty. You smiled at the child in reassurance before getting up from the fountain and slowly making your way towards them.

Anakin looked up at the sound of your figure getting up and was about to ask you where you were going before he saw you walk to a child and kneel before them. He couldn’t hear what you were saying, but he saw you hand over your honeystix to the child. You hugged the child goodbye, but not before handing them a few extra credits. The child’s purple eyes widened and a bright smile appeared on their face. They gave you another hug before retreating to wherever they came from.

You got back up from the ground and walked back toward the fountain without saying anything to Anakin. You continued like nothing happened and asked Anakin, “Did you enjoy it?”

He ignored your question. “What was that about?” He was referring to the instance in which you gave away your dessert to a child.

“I saw the little one looking at my food, so I decided to go over there and offer it to them. I could tell she was hungry. It’s alright, I can always buy myself another.”

Anakin always believed that you could tell a lot about a society or individuals based on the way they treated children. He hated Tatooine and regarded it as one of the lowest civilized planets in the entire galaxy–for many reasons, of course, but the primary reason is that those on Tatooine had no issue trafficking children into slavery and treating them as chattel. He wished that more people displayed kindness toward him as a child. Anakin’s only crime was being born into the world, but aside from that, he was innocent and deserved to be treated with dignity and humanity. You were kind. It seemed like a bare minimum requirement to be astonished at, but with the type of people Anakin has had the displeasure of meeting, kindness was a trait he rarely witnessed outside of the Temple walls.

You stared at Anakin as if you were waiting for him to say something, but he simply observed your face without saying anything. A timid look washed over your face before you turned your head to the side and blew a piece of hair out of your face.

“Well, I think it’s time we head back.”

Being with Anakin was different than you expected. At first, you were overwhelmed by his presence–caught off guard by the fact he looked like a literal god from one of those classical paintings located in one of Corucant’s largest art galleries. You’ve always had a soft spot for pretty boys. Plus, you also had a penchant for romanticizing almost every interaction and person in your life. Not always in the romantic sense though. From brief strangers to friends, you tried to put a positive spin on everyone you encountered. There was no way of telling if fate was real, but you liked to believe so. Anakin was no exception to these rules.

You were so close to successfully sneaking out of your apartment, without being detected, until you accidentally bumped into that stupid vase. Anakin came running out while you scrambled to make it look like you hadn’t been caught in the middle of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing. You knew that if Anakin found out that you were leaving the building, he would either force you to say or contact your manager. So, you lied and tried to convince him you weren’t sneaking out. Of course, he saw through you and you gave up without a fight, until he made that stupid comment. Lying was never your strong suit anyway and it wasn’t worth the hassle anyway. So, Anakin joined you on your night adventure.

Though you were initially anxious, once to got to the market, you felt your head clear. This was your comfort place, and it soothed your racing heart and clouded mind. Once you were past that anxiousness, you found that Anakin had a calming presence, once you got over your initial nerves. Anakin was observational, though it was expected of him to be so. However, it felt like he was really listening to you and clinging to what you said. He looked pensive as you described why you liked the night market so much. You wanted to make conversation with him, you didn’t feel forced to. Maybe it was the nature of the predicament you were both and the fact that he would be your bodyguard for the next week and a half, but you felt drawn to him. You wanted to know more about who the “Hero with No Fear.” You feared that if you got to know him anymore, then you might fall for him. Except, you had to stop yourself before it went any deeper than that. Once again, you reminded yourself that Anakin was a Jedi. Off-limits. So, as you settled into bed, you promised that you would actually keep your distance. There was no use in getting attached to him. The Jedi belonged to no one.

taglist: @angie2274 @bunnylovesani @0709fullofstars @js-favnanadoongi @payton-dixonreader it wasn't letting me tag u ):

#kendra's works !!!#star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fandom #sw fanfic #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin x you #tcw anakin #anakin x y/n #the clone wars #darth vader #darth vader x reader #hayden christensen

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cherri-balms · 3 months

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♡﹕𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓, 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓! — PROLOGUE

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A/N﹕YAY I FINALLY FINISHED THE PROLOGUE FOR MY FIRST SERIES!

This is the first full fledged fanfic I have written in a long time, I hope anyone who finds this finds it enjoyable, I had a fun time writing this prologue chapter and I currently have around a 10-12 chapter vision for this series as it stands, but if this proves to be something you guys like I will be happy to extend the series! I do plan to create a tag list, if you would like to be added shoot me a DM and I will add you to the list! As always any replies will be made through our main acc @caravan-mad!

This prologue pretty much gives most if not all the information about the reader aside from important plot details. I wanted the reader's demon form and time period to be as ambiguous as possible and limit the use of Y/N, the reader in this story has allegories to butterflies.

Not all chapters will have warnings nor does this one, however the full fic will contain dark content and will be under the dead dove do not eat tag.

Some content will include but are not limited to: Unhealthy relationship dynamics, N.SFW, Unrequited love, Yandere themes, Dubcon, and pretty much any tag youd find listed in Hazbin Hotel tbh

𝐄 × 𝐌/𝐅 × 𝟐.𝟔𝐤 × 𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 × 𝐀𝐎𝟑

♡﹕Bored at work performing repetitive choreography and pleasing faceless demons, you find yourself reminiscing on life, death, and limbo.

♫ envy baby ~ ♫

“Lights clear? Sounds clear?”

“We’ve been fucking over this Steven! We’ll know it’s clear when they finally stop tuning our shit-”

“Anne chill, we still have six minutes till airing. Don’t waste all your energy on the roadie.”

“That crowd doesn’t seem to be getting any quieter does it…” The little imp’s observations were now only being met by eyerolls and silent treatment by the two drummer girls as the completed instruments silenced in countdown.

Lights crew above, sounds crew from behind, and effects team surround. The way every single backstage member of your cast would run and scurry around you to get their various tasks done always made you think of little mice, rats even, so worked up making sure everything was in perfect position before those curtains had a chance to stop separating you, from them.

It was cute enough to make you laugh as though you were still a highschool girl.

“Broadcasting live in 60 seconds!” Dark blue scene lighting begins to fade your entire surrounding to a pitch black, and among doing so freezes your little mice into statues all around. Only the tiniest crack in the fabric ahead illuminated the space with a sharp vertical line down the curves of the figure that stands as the adorning center piece of this particular attraction. Roaring bass brings about a quake to the stage beneath your feet, queuing time for you to give your puppies a treat.

“Awwwe~ Did we leave you waiting long?” The volume of pure passionate devotion always rang to your ears louder than any electrical speaker could achieve.

The wave of the new future adorned in electrical inventions was something you’ve always been prepared to face; why even in the faint blur of the overworld it was all the grown ups could ever yap enough of! No, that wasn’t where that bitter taste came from.

In the full truth of things, you just never knew you’d stick around long enough to bear full witness to its infection of mankind.

Oh come on. Who are we kidding right now?

“Hi. I wanna people save, all right? ”

You’ve never been more liberated.

“You’re in m-my way!!”

Your eyes have but a second to adjust to the flood of bright neon before life hits play once again. The choreography you, and and the other 4 devils fanned out beside you have programmed into your bodies for the past months flow across the stage with ease. among the camera men you can make out the mass of waving pen lights stirred ablaze after the long anticipation, oh how you love they always use the color dearest to your heart…

“The tightrope falls, broken by others”

Once you felt the rushing high of the stage the first time around tolerance for it subsided immediately after. You’ve seen the looks on those poor saps down in the front row, each one hyper fixated on every movement you make wishing they could be you, or be up here with you.

And of course, you all flash them bright smiles, longing gazes and praise them with verses of purity more fitting for the angelic souls looming up above. Customer service is the utmost desired, as they say!

“What a lady, she’s gonna jump

towards the light and shatter humiliatingly”

Actually, can you even remember when your first performance was? How old were you even? All of this came from a cheap shot of gaining a few quick pennies back in the day. Landing yourself a handsome and rich husband with the filth you wore on your back was the first childhood dream you found dead on arrival, but what you were cursed in status you were blessed with the cuteness that made kittens hiss in envy. To say you had “the voice of a goddess” would mayhaps be a bit too presumptuous, but who were you to refute the compliment when it came your way?

Well, maybe trying to parse through finding the day your career debuted or took off was a fool's errand, but the moment it ended certainly still remains as a burned film stuck to your mind. You stopped caring about the “Oh woes me~ what did I do to deserve this~” a long time ago. Still, the punishment you received in death far exceeded what you ever did to earn in your eyes, more so than your sentencing of eternal damnation.

“High and without care I’m lonely, lonely”

Right on que, as always every time you reach exactly 32 seconds into your first song the intrusive memory flashes the same images of the past over your current reality it almost feels as if you were stuck suffering that fate again each time.

You wish there was more to say on the matter of your demise, but there’s only a brief two second window between staring down some heckling loud mouth making a scene in the crowd and a bomb beneath the stage going off before your soul is falling down under the earth’s crust as a blazing comet onto the asphalt below.

And two days before your 21st birthday too are you serious?! UN-Fucking believable!

“From their idle words, the clown becomes a prisoner”

The only thing you wanted to do was scream in the immense burning agony you were suffering until the whole world knew the kind of pain you were in, but each time you cried not even a croak could get past your scorched throat

Even after the blazes subsided and your charred cocoon was all that was left behind, the inferno decided your vocal chords were going to be its payment.

…. That was it?

This was your payout…

And after all that work…

“It’s the same love as always, no way I’d have regrets”

Surreal didn’t even begin to describe what became of the following weeks, months, you haven’t a clue. The construct of night and day seemed to mean jack in the bizzare wonderland of maddness holding you, only so much telling what shade of putrid red in the sky was darker than the same shade of fucking red from two hours ago! What a productive way to spend your newfound endless time!

Every aspect of this place made you absolutely sick, enough so to have you still praying you just were drugged and having the worst trip of your fucking life, but the horror in maddness is the consistency that lies between the lines. You’re certain that damned illuminated “WELCOME TO HELL!” sign and the stranger you befriended in the mirror was that line that made you finally cave.

“Hey, it's a amazing.”

Honestly, you couldn’t say what specifically led you into the epiphany you had, all of a sudden one day you heard a sudden snapping sound in your conscience, and like that everything made sense to you. Why your life was snuffed before you could emerge from your cocoon, why your makers deemed this your new home, and why that bomb taking your life just wasn’t enough to deem your afterlife a hell.

There was a certain liberation that came with hell that you were never going to get being the glowing little diamond you were in human society, through terrorism, cannibalism and bloodshed one thing would remain a constant throughout devil society. No one would ever give a damn about anything.

Hell became your fucking playground by the time your first extermination came around, and keeping on the move while broke as shit was a cakewalk this time around, but your first encounter with an overlord after catching your foot in the grave in the casino humbled your inflating ego. Chaos for society did not necessarily mean chaos without hierarchy, and going without a voice to call your own put you at an extreme disadvantage.

“LA-LA-LA!”

The crescendo of the opener is right around the corner, for the leading front and center of your group your vocals and choreography had primarily remained reserved for backup. The primary color of lights among the crowd made the obvious clear with who the majority of these demons were here to see, your manager was aware of this more than anyone else.

Your fans tended to be aware of this for a majority of your shows, your parts in particular tended to stand out even as mere background vocals.

“I’m ready for this this lover baby!

My garden of love is in danger from a drawing hand.

Truly, this this lover’s crazy!

In the garden of harm, the bud of a human is a lie-ai-a!”

Sinners rejoice once the solo everyone was edging towards drops with the bass of the loudspeakers and the flares of the strobes above. The pitches your vocals were now capable of hitting and the frequency you were able to synthesize between notes wasn’t just inhuman, it was impossible for any singer whose notes carried on oxygen.

Your manager always made it a note in the writing room or when creating your setlists that overfeeding wolves with delicious treats would dull the taste over time, your solo singles often did well enough to prove this didn’t need to always be the case, but whenever it came to the business decisions you always put your full trust in him. Where you are standing right now is more than enough proof in your eyes that he knew exactly where and when to move his pawns, and in doing so he turned you into a valiant queen.

“Ah! I love you and even things about you I probably shouldn’t love

I love you too much, on a count of one and two

Lie-lie loving you, such words

and doing such things, you’re in m-my way!”

Survival was of the least of your concerns after so much time had passed, but survival was all you could find yourself able to do in your forced retirement. Where you yearn for character in sound you were able to temporarily find when turning to radio, but living vicariously only quenches so much before greed starts cozying up within.

Plausible excuses for your laziness were wearing thinner by the day, even the last sane smolder of human morality trying to keep itself sparked wanted nothing more than to argue you weren’t supposed to be living to the fullest in hell, but the mute silence in your throat was beginning to phase your memory of the voice your inner conscience called its own too, and you'd sooner go mad trying than wither away again a fucking waste.

“Here comes the love maniac who never misses,

Stack up all the whining,

Fall in a high-fi love lie-ai-a!”

Overlords were still beings that had you nauseous upon first glance, your first meeting of one of these overlords had you vowing to never end up in the claws of one again, should you find yourself in a deal you can’t unbind yourself out of. Pride stuck thick to the roof of your mouth and there was nothing more you wanted to do than stick to your morals and prove use on your own, but reality had pelted you with stones throughout your entire afterlife.

You were going to need to write out a loan before you’d find yourself with any ounce of power to call your own, not like you didn’t have options for whom to choose! Even so, you needed to keep a steady head and an even sharper nose. In your ponderance you'd come to realize there was only really one option for you to go to this whole time. Maybe that gambling kitty taught you a valuable lesson on staking bets in the long run.

“Copy their acting and keep the truth hidden

Stacking three and lonely, lonely

You’re surely a clown, a prisoner”

A bet on the future was what you were going to stake it all on.

“Copy their acting and keep the truth hidden

Stacking three and lonely, lonely

You’re surely a clown, a prisoner”

Everything about how the world operated changed so rapidly from the days walking in the sunlight to your eternal party in the redlight, the wave of the future had finally hit with the promise for a solution to everyones problems. There couldn’t have been any better timing, if technology was going to be the way of the future, who's to say you couldn’t prove what was achievable? Like that, you had your sales pitch. The hardest part on your end was complete.

“Hey, it's a amazing.

LA-LA-LA!”

“So you were a singer in life and lost your voice in death, and just what the fuck made you think I was the man to go to for this?” Those were the magic words you were waiting for, with his composure shaken it wasn’t long before he was the one asking the questions and allowing the ball to move into your court. Your fingers dance on the illuminated tablet laying on the table once again before you flip it over toward his direction.

~Have your inventions not made it to that level of advancement yet?

Hook, line, and sinker. You had a hunch a passive aggressive challenge toward the ego would be what ultimately won you over with any overlord you chose, but the speed in which he stood from his desk and held out his hand, it felt almost too easy.

“If it’s a new voice you wish to invest in, consider your stocks opened, Monarch!” Finally…

“I’m ready for this this lover baby!

My garden of love is in danger from a drawing hand.”

“Now for what you have to offer me,” You don’t care. “I hope you weren’t planning on extorting me out of a generous gift and then making the big bucks with it, hm?” These overlords just love to hear themselves go on.

“Truly, this this lover’s crazy!

In the garden of harm, the bud of a human is a lie-ai-a!”

“I suppose I could just issue a royalty for your voice, after all you wouldn’t be making a sound without my tech. Lucky for you, I’ve been having fleeting thoughts of entering the music industry. So why not invest in each other instead~”

“Ah I love you and even things about you I probably shouldn’t love

I love you too much, on a count of one and two”

Being owned by an overlord in the end wasn’t so bad, or maybe this is the fated “stockholm syndrome” everyone seems to be crying about these days. Either way, the biggest price you had to pay in the end was just having someone else do all the “business” part in show business.

Naive maybe, but rosey eyed you weren't. For all that he’s done you still fail to see how your end of the deal has in any way repaid what’s given, which can only lead to one thing down the line. You were going to have to give him your everything.

… Yet, how could you find yourself ungrateful to someone who fulfilled your afterlife dream and still continued to provide for you?

“Lie-lie loving you, such words and even such things, they’re in m-my way!”

The audience went absolutely ballistic at the final group pose signifying the end of your opening set, some of the really hardcore fans in the front row you swore passed out the second eye contact was made.

Yet when you turn your chin upward to the VIP section after performing your tricks so well, all you’re met with is a turned back and a schmoozed up producer instead of a tasty bone.

“Thank each and every one of you for coming to see us tonight!!” No, you only wanted him to come out to see you.

Only you.

Hey, Vox?

Can you just turn your stupid flat head this way?

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel x reader #Vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #vox smut #vox x reader smut #hazbin hotel vees #the vees #Hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x you #mdni #🍓My one and only!#🕊Dead dove do not eat!#💔I’ll leave you be…#next next!

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silverzoomies · 2 months

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Cunning Linguist

pietro maximoff x reader smut

warnings: cunnilingus, porn with (slight) plot, blow jobs, dissociative identity disorder, dissociation, existential crisis, smut, shameless smut, halloween, canon divergence

word count: 3,990

a/n: i meant to finish this ages ago. but i always overthink shit. i rewrote this several times, and it still doesn't feel worth posting. oh well !! just meaningless filth - same old story, different clothing. i wanted to play with the concept of pietro as an alter in ralph's head. again. lol

he's a little ooc here. but i'm blaming the brain fog. i'm running on three hours of sleep every night. fuck it, we ball. also, not including a tag list because tumblr's system kinda sucks for it. sorry !!

Pietro recalled the moment his consciousness came to light.

Agnes waved her spooky hands in his face, as though she were taunting him. She muttered incantations under her breath. The words of which Pietro didn’t recognize as English. After implanting sentimental memories in his mind - based on stories of Wanda’s childhood - she sent him off on his own. Like letting a dog loose, free to roam.

Pietro’s mission? Find Wanda, have a gabfest or two, extract information. Or something along those lines. Pietro hadn’t paid much attention while Agnes yapped about it. Why focus on that, when the mystery of his own sentience piqued his interest instead?

He was given an easy enough job to do. No problem-o. Pietro had a talent for pestering people til’ they cracked. That’s what Agnes told him, anyway. He wasn’t too sure why she wanted him to play undercover rat. It had something to do with magic. Pietro knew that much. There was some kinda witch-on-witch rivalry in the works. But unfortunately for Agnes - and maybe fortunately for Wanda - she might have to take a raincheck on her duel of the sorceresses.

Pietro could be a bit of a dipshit. Was he stupid? Not so much. He had brains where it counted. He could be crafty. Even sneaky. But his expert level slyness didn’t make him any less of an idiot. Pietro couldn’t refute that factoid about himself. Around Wanda, he forgot how to function like a normal person. Which he blamed on the fact that he wasn’t a normal person. Being brutally honest with himself; Pietro technically wasn’t even a person at all.

More like a conceptual incarnation of human sentience, really. Simple enough.

No ifs, ands, or buts about it, though - Pietro carried the irksome flaws of a human. Often, he acted thoughtless when he didn’t mean to. Without filtering himself first, Pietro unapologetically spoke his mind. He’d drop fourth-wall breaking quips here or there. Sometimes, his careless habits made for entertaining slip ups. Perfect for sitcom shenanigans. Other times, his blunders resulted in pain. Lotsa pain.

Halloween night, Pietro found himself whisked away by a forceful wave. Conjured by Wanda’s potent magic. The same power Agnes wanted her wiggly witch fingers on. After going aerial in a wild whoosh, Pietro got up close and friendly with some Halloween decorations. But, hey, what’re a few broken bones between pseudo siblings, eh?

Wanda sure had a helluva temper. She quickly banished Pietro from ever setting foot in her house again. Talk about a major bummer. Pietro suffered a huge loss on that front. One part because he’d have no choice but to crash with Agnes again. Ninety nine parts because he’d miss his troublemaking nephews. Those fun, lil scamps.

Tough luck, Quickie. Try and do better next time.

Honestly, he’d prefer if there wasn’t a next time. If Agnes wanted to make small talk so bad, she could do it on her own. Calling it quits for the night, Pietro wandered off to a Westview bar. To his surprise, he found the place still in operation. And despite Pietro’s memories - vague imagery of Busch beer cans crushed under his fist - he hadn’t had a beer since his consciousness manifested. Shit. Did he even like beer? Whether he cared for it or not, a subconscious instinct drew him to it.

He assumed that instinct was none other than Ralph himself. The poor dude wanted to drown his terror in alcohol. And after all the twisted shit Agnes put Ralph through; who was Pietro to deny him one of life's simplest pleasures?

The mellow atmosphere of the bar oozed Halloween spirit. Kinda unnecessary, in retrospect. Considering Wanda never stopped by for a drink. Why bother sprucing the place up with her wispy magic, if it never saw any use?

The bartender’s clever quips reminded Pietro of Cheers. Another totally bonkers concept. Pietro had memories of watching Cheers, sure. But he couldn’t decipher if they were Ralph’s or not. For all Pietro knew, they might be a part of the ‘dead brother’ package deal. False memories, meant to give Wanda someone to relate to. Making him liable to tear down her defenses when she least expected it.

But why did Pietro get the sense he was more of a Frasier guy anyway?

Sitting at the bar on a rickety stool, Pietro spun around to satiate his boredom. He cradled a beer, inhaling all of it in a single beat. Superspeed really did have its ups and downs. Consider quick consumption a positive. As far as negatives go…well…inebriation was completely unattainable. Sucks for Ralph. As Pietro flagged down the bartender for another beer, he tuned his ears to a radio broadcast. On a shelf amidst dollar store Halloween decor; a radio droned old fashioned tales of wicked witches. Subtle.

Outside interference interrupted the broadcast. Voices intermingled between buzzes of static. Whispering soft, but panicked mantras of 'Wanda? Wanda, are you there?' Pietro narrowed his beady eyes. His ignorance of the world outside Westview should’ve stayed intact. But whatever the reason, he knew exactly where those voices came from. Why he carried such knowledge was anyone’s guess. Maybe Agnes let too much her own insight slip into his psyche. Whoopsies. Oh well. Shrugging, Pietro flagged down the bartender for another beer. Deja vu.

Bored outta his mind, his thoughts explored elsewhere.

Pietro dreamt of something a little more down to earth. He remembered a cutie-pie neighbor new to Westview. A ‘next door’ kinda type, with a quirky sorta charm. They had no idea why they were in the city to begin with. Pietro knew these details, only because he gathered the what’s what on just about every person in town. It took him all of two seconds to do so. Zip around. Observe. Make mental notes. Report back to Agnes. Spill the deets.

Anyway, about you…

Call it a crush, loneliness, or even instinctive lust; whatever the case, Pietro thought you were cute as could be. You didn’t remember how you got to Westview, or where you even came from. One day, you woke up in town, and found yourself wearing unfamiliar clothes. Threads evocative of decades long past. But hey, it happens to the best of us. Pietro was well-acquainted with feelings of confusion and alienation. That mingled sense of being both lost, and born anew.

For crying out loud, he was the very materialization of sapient awareness itself. Agnes forbade him from that knowledge as well. But again, Pietro credited his oopsies and ding-dongs to her shoddy miracle work.

Whenever you questioned the reality around you, the world only stifled you into silence. The everyday citizens of Westview seemed so content with life as it was. Acting as if you had nothing to worry about. Wanda’s sitcom setup was nothing beyond sunshine, rainbows, and television tropes. But Pietro could see the unspoken terror hidden deep in their eyes. The truth Wanda kept hush hush.

Just thinking about it was enough to give Pietro the heebie jeebies. And if his intuition was anything to go by - it never proved him wrong yet - you had a bad feeling about Westview too. Way to go! You caught on even quicker than he did. Which was kinda nuts, if he thought about it. Wasn’t he supposed to be the fastest at everything? ‘Cuz speed was his middle name or something. Or…well, it wasn’t. But it could be. Who’s to stop him from seizing his own destiny at this point?

Pietro Speed Maximoff.

Eh, maybe not.

In Westview, you had no friends or family. And much like Pietro, on Halloween night; you found yourself at the bar. He caught your curious gaze from down the counter. You were dolled up in a scanty, witch's dress, leaving Pietro to wonder why witches were such a recurring theme in his life. Looking too much like a manchild goober, he spun around a few more times in his seat. His sneakers kicked against the stool’s railing. No matter what, he couldn’t sit still. He thought he might be embarrassing himself. But his antics appeared to make you smile even brighter.

Tilting your head, you shot him a look of familiarity.

You weren’t familiar with him, though. But there was a chance you saw him appearing and disappearing around town. During his impromptu stake outs, more than likely.

Bringing your drink to the seam of your lips, you stifled a playful giggle. It was obvious you were gawking at his costume. Arching a brow, Pietro grinned into the rim of his beer bottle. To be fair, he looked supremely ridiculous. The blue tights under his cut-off jean shorts rode up in the crotch a little too much. He dipped his head, staring at the frayed edges of his shorts. Yeah. It was clear he did the job cutting them himself. A hasty one too. Since he was too eager to pull pranks with his nephews.

Damn. Pietro missed those kids like hell already.

The dirty blond hair/ear-things atop his head bounced every time he knocked his neck back. As Pietro downed yet another beer, he lost track of how many he drank. A dribble of it plummeted into silver. Creating a sheen against the lightning bolt duct taped diagonally down his shirt. Pietro sighed and pursed his lips.

His outfit was an all blue ensemble. Garnished with a spritz of silver here or there. Quicksilver. His hero name, apparently. Pietro knew he’d never live up to it.

A bit of friendly conversation later, and the air between the two of you shifted. Your playful look morphed into something a little wanton, the more Pietro acted in silly ways. Holy shit. Seriously? He hoped he wasn't misreading your signals. Because really, your attraction was too good to be true. If you honestly wanted him, where should he proceed from here? How much freedom had Agnes even allowed him? And furthermore - if Wanda’s happy, dream town ran on a curated schedule; what if credits rolled just as the two of you finally got handsy?

Maybe sitcom rules didn’t apply to conscious manifestations of witch hocus pocus? Wishful thinking on his part.

Outside the bar - in an alleyway too uncannily clean, like a set straight out of Hollywood - Pietro beckoned you in with kisses. Technically, he played the role of Agnes’s deadbeat husband. And if that were the case, did kissing you count as cheating? Shit…was Pietro committing adultery right now?? In the midst of macking on your sweet lips, he pressed a palm to the wall next to your head. Pietro pretended to do so for balance, as he devoured you with his mouth and tongue.

But unbeknownst to you, he cracked an eye open. Just to double check for a wedding band.

Nothing there to prove he ever got hitched. Go figure.

You giggled coyly into his lips, letting a soft moan ease through your teeth. Bringing your hands up to the hair/ear-things on his head, you toyed with them. Your pretty voice teased him, as you played with his hair in gentle strokes of your thumbs.

“Ooooh…such a good boy, huh? Fast too.” You cooed, the same way one might praise a puppy.

Oh. Fuck yeah. To hell with sitcom tropes and bogus wives. Agnes scared the ever-loving shit out of Pietro anyway. He had no semblance of a domestic connection to her. Not that she gave much of a damn herself. With how often she threw insults his way. Agnes always used Ralph as her little punching bag, before hijacking his body for her own gain.

No wonder your simple praises got his proverbial tail wagging.

A chuckle hummed in the back of his throat, as Pietro purred into your lips, “Speed’s kinda my middle name, y’know?”

You snorted one of the dorkiest laughs he’d heard since cognisant birth. And with a sudden spark of primal urgency; Pietro felt something else spring into transcendence down below.

Sifting through Ralph’s sidelined psyche, Pietro came to realize how much of a recluse he was. The guy never seemed to get out much. In fact, Agnes might’ve even been his first partner. If one could classify her as such. So, really, Pietro was doing him a major favor. If Ralph knew he planned on using their body for some frisky fun - on an otherwise lonely Hallow’s eve - surely, he’d give his brain roomie some thanks.

Pietro’s hands were vascular like a wired-up machine, clad in arm-warmer paws. Grabbing hard onto your curvy hips with them, he pulled you in closer. He sought the friction of your crotch against his. And after some seriously sloppy making out, Pietro dropped you an invite to his place.

Or…Agnes’s place.

Uh…or…was it technically Ralph’s? Shit, this sitcom roleplay sure gave way to some mental gymnastics.

You didn’t expect Pietro to zip you off at superspeed. Moving abruptly fast, he brought you straight to his disaster of a man cave. Laying you back on the futon, he gave you little time to adjust over the blankets. The wrinkled fabrics reeked of pot, in desperate need of a wash. You got as comfy as you could on the skunky sheets. Blinking your needy gaze up at him, you tugged his white belt, pulling the band undone. Pietro grinned lazily, colliding his swollen lips into yours. His primal instincts left him wreckless with want.

Burying his tongue in the cavern of your mouth, he brought with him the flavor of cheap booze. As you tasted him, you moaned, shucking his dumb jorts down his hips. A sizable swelling twitched in his tights, squirming under muted blue. Your eyes bulged in their sockets, cartoonishly wide. The way you whirled your tongue across your lip gave off a vibe of animalistic hunger. As though you were eager for an all dick dinner. With Pietro as the appetizer.

And the main course. And the dessert. He hoped you'd rate him five stars.

Restaurant metaphors aside; this was the very first test of his capabilities as a lover, after all. If he couldn’t live up to his superhero name, maybe he could make a name for himself in other ways.

Pietro Speed Maximoff. Quicksilver. Cunning Linguist.

But first…he really should satiate your hunger.

One, generous tug downward, and Pietro’s - or Ralph’s - slightly above average length sprang out. Bouncing in your face in mesmerizing oscillation, his cock appeared pulsating and roused. Thick veins weaved like threads through his shaft, akin to his vascular hands. His balls bulged in his tights, his jorts hanging halfway down his thighs. Pietro took his blistering cock in hand. Aching for the kind of stimulation Ralph never got, his desire painted him so flush and ruby red.

Since you looked so delighted at the sight before you; Pietro gave his cock a few strokes. He played with himself for your viewing pleasure. And as his firm grip tugged his shaft, the world pulled suddenly back. It was as though Pietro viewed life through a third person perspective. Metaphorical cameras fixed their lenses on the two of you, in an all too human position of closeness.

The weight of a cock in Pietro’s hand felt both familiar, yet weirdly foreign. Combine that with the sight of another living, breathing body below him; and his nerves buzzed uncomfortably. Frenzied in such a way that matched the quick pulsing of his heart. Focusing instead on your fluttering eyes, Pietro weaned himself out of dissociation. Your hands braced his hips, thumbs circling the fabric of his tights. The gentle gesture brought chills throughout his body. Inching forward, you teased his bobbing cock with a flick of your tongue.

Wet heat grounded him in reality. Upon racing to the forefront of his own mind; Pietro’s breath hitched with a husky groan. He held your head, massaging his fingers in your soft hair. Cute mewls spilled from your lips as you flitted your eyes shut. Swirling your tongue over his cock’s puffy head, you lapped any tearful pearls of precum. His thickness sank between your plush lips, and Pietro’s own lips parted for breath.

Of all things to happen on Halloween night, getting his dick sucked wasn’t on the docket.

Not that Pietro had any reason to complain. This? Wicked awesome. Ralph was really missing out.

You drew lazily back just to lap his balls over his tights, staining fabric with slick saliva. Rolling the tip of your tongue up the underside of his dick, you giggled in that dorkish way again. Pietro’s teeth pulled his lip as he tilted his head back. His dick twitched, throbbing while the heat of your mouth embraced him fully. He moaned, smiling wide enough to show off his dimples. You pumped his cock at the base, teasing his veins with your tongue.

Pietro’s brows turned inward. You suckled his head like you longed to guzzle anything he could give. He sank his fingers deeper through your hair, holding on tightly as he rutted his hips. With each slam of his weeping tip into your throat; he hoarsely grunted. You really did try your best, just for him. Even as tears spilled down your cheeks and your lips began to swell. Plush and puffy, circling his slick length. Pietro kicked up the speed at which he rutted.

Fighting his instincts, he was cautious enough not to choke you. Or, he wanted to be cautious. He braced his hands on both sides of your tear stained face, his arm warmer paws soft against your cheeks. Sinking his dick even deeper between your lips, he accidentally went balls deep. The wet fabric of his tights smothered your chin. You sputtered on his cock, which made your throat wring him so tight. As your tongue curled, sliding under the thrum of his veins; Pietro cursed. Playful chuckles and shameful apologies fell from his lips.

Bitter heat coated your tongue in sweltering jets, thick and explosive down your throat. Pietro’s groin twisted in a blossoming surge of pleasure. And as he ruptured your esophagus with his sticky load, he found himself that much more grounded. As if such a bombastic nut somehow tethered him to reality - securing Pietro from any further derealization.

Righteous. His first big O since Agnes blessed him with the gift of consciousness. Significantly more electrifying than any sad, jerk sesh Ralph had in the past. And since you so humbly took him like a champ - giving Pietro a most euphoric experience; he saw it fit to return the favor ASAP.

Neither Pietro - nor Ralph, it seemed - had any experience toying around with partners. But he did have a vague knowledge of how to do so. Thanks to the backlog of not-so-safe-for-work memories deep in his subconscious. Raunchy porn, mostly. Magazines. Tapes. Jesus, Ralph…why’s there so much dirty stuff in there, huh? Lots and lots of it. Pietro would have to do his own research later.

He gave you no time to prep for his oncoming nose dive. Perched on your knees, coughing and clearing your throat - you found yourself abruptly resting on your elbows. Your upper back pressed into the futon. Pietro lifted your hips, using his strength to hike your thighs over his broad shoulders. As you parted your swollen lips to protest, blinking your reddened eyes; Pietro pulled your panties to the side. He kept the soaked lace pinned under a thick thumb. Burying his lips in your cunt, he lapped up your honeyed heat.

A sudden addiction, triggered by something carnal, overtook him instantly. Pietro became hooked on your fragrant flavor, swirling your cute bud in high-speed circles. He worked your stiff clit like a microscopic joystick, flicking wet heat in a spastic whirlwind. Alternating between drawing patterns, and sucking your precious pearl hard. Pietro so easily made you squeal - even without any prior experience - until you scratched your fingernails deep into Ralph’s sheets. Kissing your cunt, he let his thirst take over, and dove deeper.

The tune of his name melting through your moans made him wish the night would last forever. A small fraction of him hoped Ralph would never take over again. If consciousness offered rewards this scrumptious, Pietro wanted to stay sentient into eternity. Not to be selfish or whatever, but he almost considered playing minion for Agnes again - if only to secure the lifespan of his psyche.

Your supple, pussy lips parted as he wormed his tongue through your slick walls. Smooth, bumpy heat squeezed the fuzzy ridges of his tongue. In milliseconds, your fluttery love gushed over his taste buds and leaked down his chin. Tears teased the edges of your eyes. You cried whines of sugary bliss. Pietro’s thumb kept your panties pinned, his other hand locked around your thigh.

He smirked into your pussy, deep chuckles burning hot on your mound. And since the position wasn’t exactly the most comfortable; he allowed you some reprieve. Pushing you past your breaking point at light speed, Pietro bashed the sopping slickness of his tongue into your clit. You trembled, shuddering through powerful waves of orgasmic intensity. White-hot flashes of light flooded your vision. Under Pietro’s zippy tongue, your sweet pussy quivered.

Totes mcgoats. If he learned anything tonight - aside from the obvious lessons in subtlety; Pietro now understood why the everyday man lost his doggone marbles over puss.

After your first release, he eased your tired body into the futon. Your back met cozy blankets, engulfed in that skunk weed scent. Before you relaxed, he edged you even longer, drawing out your pleasurable suffering. Pietro sank his fingers deep into your heat, pumping the length of them inside you. His digits curled perfectly, finding every spongy spot that made your core burst with a desire to cum again. His tongue teased your swollen nub until you grabbed at his hair. You mussed the funny looking ear things atop his head, pressing your palm into his forehead to try and push him back.

You begged him to stop. Pleading in disoriented whimpers, your noises went straight to his limp dick. A few more hot, wrathful waves of pleasure later - he finally stopped. Only after your cunt erupted in one more, wet burst. You leaked like a fountain into his lips, soaking his chin, even making a mess of his makeshift costume. More than worth it. Pietro sat up on the futon, admiring his handiwork. He wiped his mouth with one of his arm warmer paws. Your mouth fell agape as your lungs begged for air. More tears sparkled on your flushed cheeks, mirroring the twinkle of your pussy. Pretty as a rose in a rainshower.

With your sluggish arms, you gestured for Pietro to climb over you. And once he did, you pulled him into a lazy kiss without a single care. You paid no mind to the taste of your sweetness on his lips, or the scent of your musk on his chin. Sleepily blinking, you bravely asked if you could stay the night. Too tuckered out to even consider a long walk back home.

Pietro could just as easily speed you over to your place. But even at the risk of his not-wife catching him in bed with someone else - he felt too adverse to loneliness. Besides...your company brought him more delight than he ever expected of anyone. Settling into the futon, he popped on Ralph’s old TV set.

Cheers was on. Pietro snickered to himself, rolling his dark eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, snuggled up against Pietro’s strong form. He’d changed clothes at some point in the night, finally foregoing the tights. Oh, and he lended you one of Ralph’s shirts too. A Grateful Dead t-shirt, of which you were very grateful. Hah, “You don’t like Cheers?”

Pietro shrugged, sipping a beer. A Busch beer. He scowled at the taste, curling his lip.

“Eh. More of a Frasier kinda guy.”

#peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x you #peter maximoff #pietro maximoff #wandavision #txt #sorry for dropping this in the main tags !!

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generalpalacefishgoop · 4 months

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You know the posts recently about bbh neg on twter, the timing of it with that going on, makes me want to hurl, they don't give a shit about "victims" or the real issues. They just want to dunk on the next cc they hate using the current "momentum".

You know what, I say let them go ahead and try to "cancel" Bad, really, go ahead. They're just regurgitating shit DSMP fans has said over the years again and again about Bad. Its fcking funny actually. Oh not forgetting they had to invent new ones or ones THAT THEIR FAVES HAVE DONE TOO BTW, to "cancel" Bad. To think I was looking forward to QSMP fans being "healthier" or "better" than DSMP ones, oh boy am I sorely disappointed.

Let them run their mouths about Bad. Cuz I'm 100% sure the CCs , QSMP admins, and Quackity give 0 shit about them. Etoiles knows and has already expressed how he knows that Bad is overly hated by the fandom and how he receives neg on the daily. Despite knowing that, he's still cordial with Bad. And he even expressed how he tries to not be "angry" or "frustrated" at Bad or else the parasocial fucks will come running to "defend" him from "evil" BBH when he has said a million times over that its not a fcking big deal, and hes just expressing himself NOT IN A NEG WAY. but noooo parasocial fucks be like "oh no my skunkrly wrunkly his feelings got hurt oh no" same shit with foolish fans. Fcking blind af. Esp the new ones who hasnt experienced the prank wars in dsmp. Fcking joyless fucks who cant handle a fcking block game that theyre not even playing. But thankfully, Etoiles stopped being so concerned, and well, yk with Foolish lmao same old same old.

(Disclaimer: SOME FANS NOT ALL, IM TALKING ABOUT THE TOXIC PARASOCIAL FUCKS, YES EVEN THE BIG ACCOUNTS ON TWITTER WITH THOUSANDS OF FOLLOWERS. You know who. Big numbers doesn't mean they're more RIGHT. A parasocial fuck is a parasocial fuck. Also, when I say parasocial, I mean the ones who are toxic and project themselves onto the CC. Being parasocial is fine, if it's the healthy kind, if you know what I mean)

I digress, there's no fcking unfollows or subtweets from CCs to Bad, unlike with D or F. In fact, some CCs and CLOSE FRIENDS of Bad's have always praised Bad and defended him TO THIS DAY. If that is not enough of an indication of how unproblematic he is, Idk what else to say. Just fuck off and live a life in constant misery and hatred ig. That's why don't respond to fucks like that. Just mute em. They can yap all they want but it means SHIT ALL if you don't see it. BBH's community is WAY WAY smaller than the whole fandom (and theres wayyy more toxic fucks) so bbhs community saying shit back to the toxic shits will also mean SHIT ALL. They CLEARLY don't watch Bad anyways so what's the point. Better way to deal with this shit is fight the misinformation, that's all. Spread more positivity and give ppl FULL context and CORRECT information. If you see some shit against Bad, report it and send it to whatever ban list qsmp uses. Send it to mods or something. Ik that Bagi's discord has something like that.

Oh but ppl be like /rp or /lh or "it's just my opinion", who gives a shit. Still report them. We're not dumb. The mods or whoever admins are not dumb. That negative toxic fuck smell on it, is fcking obvious enough.

STOP GIVING THEM ENGAGEMENTS. We can happily stay in each others bubbles without ever talking to each other, AND THAT IS FINE. Don't let the negative fucks in. Mute and report them, and I guarantee you, that fcking stranger on the Internet, you'll forget within DAYS. those fuckers won't even exist to you, vice versa.

THEIR WORDS HOLD NO POWER OVER YOU OR THE QSMP COMMUNITY. KEEP THE QSMP COMMUNITY HEALTY AND SAFE. Fuck them toxic shits.

#qsmp #qsmp fandom neg #neg #discourse #fandom neg #rant #badboyhalo

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tadpolesonalgae · 9 months

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Azriel x reader: please… - Part 3

A/N: Literally every time I’ve added a part to this series, it’s been because I’ve needed it, how depressing

Summary: The war has commenced, and with your powers of truth, Kier believes the best position for you is at the Spymaster’s side. Both of you talented at seeking out the information you need, though through different means.

Warnings: torture, gore description, angst

If you want to skip the torture, head to ‘————‘

-Part 2- -Part 4-

——————————————————————————————————————————————

You take one step inside the tent, and turn on your heel, upturning the contents of your stomach. Your father looks vaguely displeased, but it’s not bad enough he’ll break any bones. Not when he needs you.

Once you’re done heaving, though, that’s the end of it. If you wait a second longer, his tolerance will run dry. So you spit into the mud, and straighten, sorting out your clothes, before reentering.

The male looks just as torn apart as he did before but this time you’re better prepared, a perfectly tailored smile at hand. The kind that’s small, and polite, and completely inappropriate to be giving to a male missing the better layer of his skin. He’s been stripped bare, not even allowed the courtesy of a cloth to cover the flaccid male limb. His hair has been shorn off, minimising individuality. Some parts of his scalp look raw, as if the haircut had been given carelessly, and there’s a cut in the sac beneath his left eye.

He releases a wet, wheezing laugh that bubbles up his throat, blood spilling down his mostly intact lower lip from some hidden inner wound. “Don’t have the stomach for it, eh?”

You keep the polite smile in place, but sharpen it to something a little more vicious. “I’ve seen steak with more skin than you.” You say in way of greeting to the Hybernian. “You’ve lost your crust, soldier.” He shrugs, spitting a clump of wet blood onto the floor. “I like my meat to be tender.” His teeth are unnervingly white beneath the layers of too-red dirt.

“Keep yapping and you’ll lose that tongue.”

And just like that, the male snaps his mouth shut. Tremors are running beneath his skin as his muscles contract, head tilting down as he stares at his feet. As if he’s a child about to be scolded.

The Spymaster prowls forward from a corner of shadow, a silvery blade glinting in the low light, practically singing in his hand. Smooth as butter, Azriel grabs the male by the jaw, thumb and middle finger jabbing into the muscle to force his mouth open. The blade presses sharply onto his tongue and you can make out the slow ooze of blood, filling his mouth, pouring back down his throat.

You might be sick again.

Even your father’s complexion is a little pallid.

“The next things to go will be your eyelids. One after the other. Slowly.”

You feel bad for the male. For both of them. In a different world, under different leaders, would there exist a space where they could have walked side by side? Instead of clawing at one another’s throats like animals?

But you aren’t in that different world. You’re here. Stuck amidst a war.

And now your father wants to use you to break the secrets out of this male. Who’s survived this long. Against the Spymaster.

You’re not sure if you can stomach it. He’s fought so hard.

“Were the tables reversed, he would feel no pity for you, girl.” Your eyes flick to Kier’s, cold and sharp. “I know,” you say, arms folding across your chest in attempts to maintain some warmth. “They’d be doing far worse. Don’t you forget that.” You manage a short dip of your head.

He turns to leave, but stops, “don’t forget you were sent here to filter out his lies. Failure to do so will result in severe punishment.” Heartless words from father to daughter.

And with that he turns and leaves. It’s just you and the Spymaster—who hardly even acknowledges you beyond a flick of his hazel eyes.

“He threatened to peel my nails off. One by one. Pry them off with that blade of his. Then slice between my ribs, deep enough they wouldn’t heal from the rest of the wounds and front breathing—the stretch of the skin.” His grin is a slash of red, clumps of blood filling the space between his teeth.

Steel flashes and then Azriel’s blade is in his mouth. You can see clearly as the sharp edge slices beneath the wet muscle, severing it from the floor of his mouth, blood gurgling in the male’s throat. Wet screams bubble from him, piercing cries shrieking through the tent as he writhes on the chair, shrinking away from Truth Teller.

You have to cover your mouth, tongue pulling back from your lips, as if you can feel the cold bite of steel. Your stomach churns, and you gag, but manage to keep yourself from retching.

A wet slap sounds, and you can picture the severed tongue landing on the floor like a fish out of water.

Heat flushes your skin then drains, making you dizzy as the metallic tang hits you, and you stumble back a step.

Finally the Spymaster pulls away, blade gleaming with that dark liquid. You stare at him, searching for any hint of the male who touched you with such achingly gentle hands. But only cold steel lies in his eyes.

“If you can’t stomach it, get out. I have no use for you.”

The male is sobbing, thrashing in the chair as he spits mouthfuls of blood onto the floor.

“You cut out his tongue,” you manage, weakly.

“You weren’t sent here to question me.” He nods to the captive. You know your lower lip is trembling, and your skin has probably lost its warmth. Your fingers feel icy.

“What has he told you so far?” You ask, grasping your hands together to stop them from shaking. You’ve witnessed torture before…but not like this. Never done so…gratuitously. Not to this magnitude. But there’s no trace of sadism in his eyes, just merciless cold, like a relentless winter storm. “Nothing of importance,” he answers.

You swallow. “Then what needs verifying?”

“The location of the Cauldron.”

The location of the Cauldron. That’s my task. Focus on it.

You manage a nod, stoking the embers of your power, feeling the truth cluster at your fingertips, small pricks of knowledge dancing over your skin, like tiny needles vying for an entrance. You step forward, and the ground shakes. Small tremors running beneath your feet.

“What’s your name?” You ask the male, preparing yourself for that cold rush of clarity.

“Don’t bother with names.” You turn to look at the Spymaster.

“Why not?” He’s watching you, but gives no indication he’s heard.

Your lips tighten, but you can feel the magic tingling at your fingertips, ready to be released into someone. So you step toward the captive, ragged and bleeding. Perhaps if you strain the truth from him, he’ll be granted peace. It’ll be better in the long run.

————

The wind is howling.

Rain lashing down.

Whipping at your skin.

Frost biting your bloody fingertips.

Mud caking your bare feet, treading and retreading the footprints, following the labyrinth.

Spiralling and weaving throughout the camp.

Your feet come to a stop. Your back slightly hunched. Arms crossed over your body.

You can barely protest as a hand presses between your shoulder blades, guiding you inside the tent. It’s nowhere near warm, but it’s a reprieve from the incessant wailing of the wind.

He doesn’t ask why you were wandering through the base in the dead of night, with a storm in full swing. He knows how thunder can muffle those screams. How the distractions provided by your skin, and senses, are sometimes enough to smother the buzzing inside your head.

He doesn’t speak either. Just guides you further within the tent, until coming to another flap, which he lifts. When you step inside, the temperature changes. It’s no longer icy, but pleasantly warm. The change so startling it bites as your numb fingertips, burns your feet.

A magic barrier, designed to keep in warmth. Probably doubling as a sound barrier too.

There’s a pale of water at the entrance that he gestures for you to clean your feet in. Getting off the mud even if you feel like ice is biting into your toes.

You’re so tired you could collapse on the floor, but he guides you to a stool, returning moments later with a towel. It’s only then that your eyes raise to his, wondering if you’ll see the Spymaster or Azriel.

His hazel eyes are still cold, but they’re thawing out. Melting at the edges into a softer green.

“Why?”

Why did you pull me from that cycle?

“It was irritating me.”

You look away from him, fingers grasping the towel but making no move to dry yourself.

After a beat of silence, he takes the towel from your hands, stepping behind you as he puts it over your hair. And begins. He’s firm in his movements, making sure to soak up the rain from the roots, slowly working down your scalp in precise strokes.

The emotion gathers in your chest, heating your eyes as your nails dig into your palms, head hanging in shame. You’re over two decades old, and on the verge of crying like a child. Still, he carries on, patting down the rest of your hair, making sure to get it as dry as he can.

“Is this what the last war was like?” You manage. It might be the only way to keep your tears at bay. Distracting yourself with conversation.

“Yes.”

Your lower lip trembles, and you bite it. “Did you have the same role? Back then as well?”

He continues drying your hair, occasionally separating parts that he’d deemed acceptable. “More-or-less.”

“How?”

“How?” He echoes. “Because I was ordered to. And failure was tolerated much less five hundred years ago.”

“So you tore your soul to shreds.”

His hands stop.

You blink away your tears as you peer back at him, shifting on the stool. He seems to be thinking, deeply.

“Can you see that?” He asks hoarsely.

You turn fully on the stool to look at him as you shake your head. “I’m not sure what it is. My power…it’s confusing.” Disappointment flashes through his eyes, followed by something that looks like relief.

“I can see something, though.” His eyes centre on you, attention zeroing in. You lift your hand as you gesture to him, tiredly. “It’s like… When you look at a fire, or around a source of heat, and the air contorts. In waves. Or how a field looks when wind blows through it. Something like that.”

He seems to be listening intently, and it’s enough that you manage a small smile. “If I tell you more…?”

Silence stretches between you, but he nods, getting up to find some other clothes for you. Drier ones.

“I don’t know if it’s your soul, or even if my powers can reach that far. Souls are the very essence of a person’s being, I don’t believe they should be tampered with. Maybe bared witness to, but not contorted in any way.” You begin, quietly, taking the clothes from him as well as the towel, moving to be behind a screen at the foot of his bed.

“Along with the movement surrounding a person, there’s something more. It’s just a feeling I get, but I’ve noticed it becomes amplified whenever I touch someone. Skin to skin.”

“Is that why you crave the contact?” He asks from the other side quietly. “No… I just like that.” You admit, softly. You swallow, remembering to stay on track. “It’s…I don’t know. Intense. It’s this feeling of greatness. Like… It’s incomparable.”

“Try.”

You’ve removed your wet clothes, and have begun drying your body, hands ridden of that cold wetness.

You stand still for a moment, contemplating. Then, albeit hesitantly, you reach around the screen. Rough skin rasps against your palm as he grasps you from behind the screen. This time you concentrate, attempting to locate that feeling. When you catch a wave of it, you follow it deeper, swimming through the layers of being, bypassing the shields, flying over all the knowledge and memory and sense stored within his mind until you’ve neared his centre.

The world fades away, and you simply are.

You’re at his edge, listening in whatever way you can when you’re non-corporeal. Feel the pulsing of his self. It comes in waves, ebbing and flowing like the tide of a great ocean. You get the sense of its cold. The lack of that vital warmth. Of heart.

While you’re here, you aren’t full. Things are missing. Bits and pieces lost over the centuries. Whether yielded willingly or ripped out, you can’t tell. But he’s tattered, fraying in places near the centre. As if been pulled and pulled, stretched until he’s forgotten his shape, a vague impression of his former self.

You attempt to see. Put it into a visual form, this impression you’re sensing.

Gradually, it flows to you.

A glowing ember at the centre, but it’s small. Soft and weak. Barely alight. Sparks swarm at its edges, shielding from a torrent of Dark Things. They swirl around, snapping and prickling at that rotating shield. As if made up of millions of tiny, incandescent, glass marbles. You could fit hundreds in your palm alone. You wonder what they’re made of, to be so strong against the dark.

But you know you’ve been here too long. Can feel yourself fading, beginning to disintegrate, collapse and melt into him, as if dissolving at the sheer purity of his essence. It’s not good for you to be exposed to his raw state of Being.

You pull out, drawing yourself through the waters of his memories, of the knowledge he’s gathered, back out through his life even if you want to bathe in it. Dip into the starlit pools. Careful to avoid the dark spots that look like they have no bottom.

And you’re out. And so cold.

Bones stiff, fingers practically cracking as you release him. Your surface taut with strain.

“I can’t make sense of that.”

You move to the towel, finishing drying yourself off, feeling as though the wet has long soaked beneath your skin, muscles tight with tension.

“What did you see?”

You reach for the shirt he’s given you—warm and dry. Soft. Linen.

“I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Try.”

You reach for the leathers he’s given you—far too large. But they’re fleece-lined, and you could weep as you slide into them. Cozy.

“I don’t know.” You repeat. Then exhale, heavily. “At first I couldn’t see anything. It was just this feeling of something else.”

“What was it like?”

“I wasn’t finished,” you snap, weakly. “And I need a belt.” You hear him scoff from the other side of the screen, and something hot and wet rolls down your cheek. It’s so normal, so unguarded. You don’t entertain the idea of whether he did it to get you to let down your guard. You can’t bare the thought.

But he hands you a belt, and you don’t have the will to fully keep your fingers from brushing his, so desperate for a scrap of warmth from someone else. You savour it. Storing it away in what you know is your own pool of starlight.

Once you’ve secured the leathers, you step out from behind the screen.

“Your centre was warm. I think that’s the main part.” You say, eyes flicking to his bed, selfishly wishing you could crawl beneath the covers and submerse yourself beneath the sheets. They probably still hold his scent. Would you be able to have something like that one day? Will you be free to have someone for yourself? Who won’t hurt you? Someone to hold you.

You return your gaze to Azriel’s. “I haven’t seen anyone else’s—I don’t even know how I would go about doing that subtly—so I don’t know if yours was unusual.”

“Can’t you see your own?”

You shake your head, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” When he raises a single brow, you expand. “I can’t explain it. With going into someone else—going into you—there was a clear way back. Like my lungs were full of air and I was trying to swim underwater. I…I’m not sure if I would find anything inside of myself… If that’s been taken, too.”

You realise what you said and clench your jaw. “What I’m saying is, I’m not looking inside myself.” You sigh, moving past your stumble. “There was light and dark, but while your centre was warm, it felt cold. Like things were out of place, or irregular.” You look at him again, “it felt like you were missing pieces. Like you were incomplete in some way. Half-forged. Weakened in some places.”

“Weakened how?”

“It felt like there were small rips in your light. In the swirling thing. There was your centre, and it was like a small candle flame. Then there was a trench of nothing. Just a void, then a wall of light. It swirled and rotated, and kept out the darkness. But the shield looked tired. I don’t know how to explain it.”

You try to figure out how he’s feeling, and to your surprise, you can see it. Glimmering in his pupils, as if you can see all the way into him, still. The air around him is flickering sluggishly, as if fatigued. His eyes shutter at your report, and you blink.

“I did not feel like a bad place, Azriel,” you add softly. “I—…” you hesitate, considering the merits of revealing your thoughts to him. After you saw him torture someone so brutally. Who’s screamed, and pleaded, and begged. All to be torn apart.

“I debated staying, for a little. But felt myself beginning to dissolve. So I left.”

“What do you mean dissolve?” He pushes, stepping closer, as if it’ll bring him closer to the truth. “I don’t know, Azriel!” You hiss, running your fingers through your hair, then dragging them down your face. “I’m tired, and cold, and this war is exhausting. There’s so much pain, and it’s so grim, and dreadful, and there are so many wrongs about the people here. They’re in you too. Those missing pieces just falling out of you as you grow. Discarded and lost. And they’re important. Really fucking important and they’re just let go and trampled on and lost and they’re lost, Azriel. Do you understand? They’re gone. Gone gone gone and they don’t come back and they’re just left to fall out and nobody cares about them. Nobody cares about the gradual decline in their self!”

Tears spill and your cheeks warm. You’re crying in front of him. How embarrassing.

You don’t even feel like asking him to touch you. You feel like hollowing yourself out and slumping on the floor. So you do.

You move to his bed, and settle at the edge, leaning against it as you sit on the ground. Knees to your chest, head in your hands. “You shouldn’t do things like that, Spymaster. You’ll wreck yourself.”

“It’s my job. And it’s for my Court.”

You shake your head. “One day, you’ll run out. You’ll dry up. Or the void will swallow that last ember. And you’ll go out.”

You manage to look up at him. And wonder how long he has left.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020

please… Taglist: @hyemishii

#azriel #please…#Azriel angst #Azriel x reader #acotar #Azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #shadowsinger

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stayinguplate · 7 days

Text

Chapter 4 madness starts

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

…CHAPTER FOUR LETS GO!!!, so this chapter may be a little longer but who knows I don’t keep track on my progress…anyway this story concept belongs to @moshispace and check them out to see how they go into more detail on the story .they are the creator and I’m simply the writer .

WARNING: this story has yandere themes mentioneds of gore, foul language, and mentions of attempted kidnapping

Please don’t read if you feel uncomfortable with any of these things .

Enough yapping from me let’s get into the story

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“Hide her!”

Usagi said as he scrambled back to his seat

Leo quickly pulled a little bottle out of his pocket,

opening the lid and shove it by my mouth

“ Dink this quickly “

I drink it out of surprise and i remember it had

the similar taste to the other drink that had

shrunk me ,

I quickly shove it away, coughing as I drinked it

too quickly , Leo then looked to me as i felt

myself starting to shrink

“ quick hide her Leo “

Usagi said in worry as anxiousness lingers on his

tone , Leo, then grabbed teapot as I was done

shrinking. I was a little smaller now.

Leo then grabs me with his hand quickly, but

being careful not to crush me as I did fit in his

hand then dumped me in the teapot

“ careful now “

he says as he sees me go into the teapot ,

As he throws the rest of my makeshift dressed in

the teapot, he closes the lid to it .

I feel the teapot move slightly as I try to steady

my balance .

I didn’t understand what is going on but all I knew

was that if felt supper familiar and now I’m

starting to get a feeling that I shouldn’t be here

, I closed my eyes as I hugged myself thinking

before I remembered something

~ “ get her out of here splints they can’t know

what we have done to protect her “ the voice of

the figure says as they hand me to someone

“ ok I’ll get her out of here and back where she

belongs as fast as I can and I’ll get the flowers

heads help to distract them just in case “

The other voice says

“ good now go we might not have enough time “

The voice says as the other starts to run with me~

The teapot then opened as I snapped out of my

odd memory

“ Leo! “

I said as I yelled as i didn’t exactly fit my dress

anymore the teapot then quickly closes

“ pardon “

He said as he realized what he did

“ one moment “

he says as he opens the teapot slightly and grabs

a small piece of fabric closing the teapot giving

me privacy,’the memory it was so blurry that i

couldn’t exactly see what they were doing

Hopefully my mind would give me the information

And maybe remember’.

Then the teapot opened again

“ try this on for size “

Leo says as a dress is thrown into the teapot

I was thankful he had made me a dress it had

looked even better than my make shift dress

I was in awe as I then put it on , it had fit perfectly

And I was happy for how it looked, I then knocked

On the teapot signaling I was done

“Oh!…”

Leo said as he seems surprised with his work as

he picks me up with his hand, I almost fit in his

whole palm so he was careful as he set me down

,he looks at me as he then warmly smiled

“ I like it”

“ good thing splinter is one of us or you’d be …”

Cass then motioned a cutting neck motion

Leo shook, his head at her

“ what do they want with me?”

I question as Leo looks to me

“wait a minute best to take her to the white

queen..she’ll be safe there. Spoon…”

Usagi exclaimed as he then quiet down as he

looked at the spoon .

Leo put his hat down on the table

“ your carriage my lovely lady “

He said looking to me

“ the hat?”

I said curiously

“ of course, anyone can go by horse or rail but the

absolute best way to travel is by hat. Have I made

a rhyme?”

he said as he looks away slightly, but then back to

me. As the others start giggling

“ oh i love traveling by hat .”

Cass said happily as she walk toward us

“ cass . just reader, please. fairfarren, all”

He said a slight possessive tone hinting in his

voice , I stepped on the hat and he picked up the

hat and stood up, starting to walk away from the

table Usagi then threw a teacup at Leo but Leo

ducks quickly as he missed the teacup, the

teacup shattering on the ground as he did so.

As we walked, we eventually made it to a forest

the sun rising as we walked through it

And eventually, Leo started talking to himself

“ all mimsy were the borogroves and all the mome

raths outgrabe “

I then carefully walk to the edge of the hat and

carefully get down and hang from the brim

“ sorry what was that ?”

I ask in curiosity as I see him look to me I then let

go dropping to his shoulder and holding on

making sure to not fall

“ what was what ?”

He said looking to me I looked back at him

wanting an answer

“ the day of choosing a day that you made up and

whatever you wish in this world comes true for

that. you are now here. And now you must

choose for the day of choosing is only you to

choose “

He said as his tone lingers with a somewhat dark

impression as he then turns to me with a smile

but also somewhat of a smirk

“ it’s all about you, you know “

“ i’m not choosing anything and I don’t choose. I

have a hard time choosing sometimes and I don’t

even know what this is about ,so put it out of your

mind “

Leo then stopped walking

“ mind “

He simply said as he grabs you and places you

down on the floor

“ wait !you can’t just leave me here!”

You said as he was walking away but then

stopped and turned back to me

“ you don’t wanna choose, do you have any idea

What Donnie has done?, you don’t choose “

He said as he scoffed softly

“ I couldn’t if I wanted to “

I said as i started to feel bad a pit in my stomach

forming as I felt guilty.

Leo then walked up closer kneeling down

“ you’re not the same as you were before … you

Much more muchier. You’ve lost your muchness”

“ my ‘muchness’?”

I said confused as I looked up at him as he the

points at my chest

“ in there. Something is missing.”

He said as he looks at me with confusion

“ tell me what…Donnie?..has done”

I asked as I take a step forward but

Leo shakes his head softly

“ it’s not a pretty story …”

“ tell me anyway “

I said, Leo sighed and looked around the fog

slightly clearing, revealing torn up and broken

down houses

“ it was here “

He said as he paused for a moment continuing

“ was hatter to …the white queen at the time.

heightop clan have always been employed at the

court “

He said as he then started to zone out getting

into what had happened

“ it was a normal gathering the trees green

everyone having fun music playing and we were

waiting for you to arrive ,everything seemed

peaceful and fine, but then everything wasn’t…

suddenly, we were under attack , people were

screaming …thank fully we were able to escape

but after that all of us didn’t consider Donnie- I

mean the purple king as our brother anymore “

“ Leo …are you okay?”

I asked worried about him

“ I’m fine ..”

He said as he looked to you with a hint of sadness

As a few seconds pass Leo looks around

“ did you hear that ?,Im certain i heard

something. ”

“ what?”

“ Oh! Purple knights!”

He says with a panic as he quickly grabs me and

starts running , running through the forest we

heard them getting closer and closer hearing the

barking getting closer , Leo quickly hides behind

a tree as they pass and then starts to run the

other way running through bushes and jumping

over broken down trees . He then stops as he sees

upon and a withered tree across the river

He quickly takes off his hat and places me on top

“ go south to trotter’s bottom. The white queen’s

castle is just beyond.”

He said giving me directions as he sighed

“ hold on tightly and good luck “

He said as a quickly and carefully gives you a kiss

on your head .

He then brings his hand back far and tosses his

hat in the air

“ Down with the bloody purple King !”

He yells as he holds his arms out.

The hat successfully makes it over the river by the

tree. I fell off the hat, rolling twice as I fell to the

ground . I felt my face feel warm, but shook my

head as I quickly stood up, grunting slightly as I

look across the river to see Leo get captured by

the purple robot Knights .

“ Leo …”

I whispered to myself as I watched him get taken

away . I quickly go to the hat, lift it and go under it

It all felt too much. I didn’t understand. I knew

now where to go, but I felt horrible for him as I felt

tears pour down my cheeks eventually, crying

myself to sleep.

I then heard sniffing as the hat was lifted off, I

quickly stood up awake now

I see in front of me a dog a blood hound

“ you were supposed to lead them away the Leo

trusted you !”

I said as the dog looks to me

“ they have my wife and pups”

He says in a somewhat tired voice

“… I’m sorry about that … what’s your name ?”

“ bayard “

He says as he looks down at me

“ sit “

I making it sound like somewhat of an order, but

in a polite way he then sits complying to what I

Was Asking from him

“ what’s your name be reader by any chance? “

He asked in curiosity

I sigh before responding

“ yes,… but I’m not the one that everyone is

talking about “

I said as I rubbed my eyes

“ Leo would not have given himself up just for any

reader.”

He said simply

“ where did they take him? “

I asked curiously

“ to the purple Kings Castle at Salazen Grum “

He says looking away

“ we’re going to rescue him “

I said, determined

“that is not foretold.”

He says as he looks back to me

“ I don’t care . He wouldn’t be there if it weren’t

for me “

I said as I took a step forward

“ from the moment I fell down that rabbit hole i’ve

been told what I must do and who I mustn’t be …

I’ve been shrunk , stretched , scratched and

stuffed into a teapot …. i’ve been accused of

being reader and of not being reader , but this is

my dream … i’ll decide where it goes from here “

I exclaimed as I take a breath

“ if you diverge from the path-..”

He starts, but then I cut him off

“ I make the path”

I said making myself clear

He sighed and then grumbles as he lays his head

down as I climb up on his snout and to, his back

“ take me to Salazen Grum ,Bayard and don’t

forget the hat .”

I said, as I held onto his collar , he then grabs the

hat with his mouth as he started to run to our

destination , I made sure to hold on tightly so I

did not fall.

After a long while of traveling, we had made it to

the castle, the purple Kings Castle

“ there’s only one way across”

Bayard said as there was a moat of a swamp, and

it looked somewhat deadly only to realize they

were Stoneheads It was very unsettling I took a

deep breath Preparing myself.

“ lost my Muchness, have I ?”

I said to myself as I walked forward, as I carefully

stepped on the stoneheads making my way

across being careful not to fall in .

I had to finally made it across without falling in

I look back to Bayard and give a bow showing my

gratitude he gives one back as he then grabs the

hat before chucking it over the stonewall then he

runs off . I then

look back to the stonewall. It was very high. I look

around before I see a little crack in the between

the stone bricks. As I then go through.

I then entered a garden?

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

I’m sorry if this one seems short and I’m also sorry that this one took a little longer than it needed to but other than that I hope you all enjoyed and I’ll see you next time. I hope you all have a good day ,night or even afternoon.

#yandere #fanfic #alice in wonderland au #rise april #rise donnie #yandere rottmnt #rottmnt #rise raph #rise mikey #rise leo #rottmnt x reader #dark romance #alice in wonderland

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