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gglitch1dd · 20 days

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Letters to and from a Soldier

Part of the "Well... aren't you a pretty doll?" Series.

Army Soldier Midoriya Izuku x Secretary Reader

Context: War has separated you and your husband but your hearts forever stay with one another.

Note: Set in the 1940s/1950s

[PART 4] [Well… aren’t you a pretty doll- Masterlist]

To my loving wife,

I pray that you are well. It has been too long since I have seen your face and I think about you of every second of my waking state and for every moment that I close my eyes. Although my heart longs for you, this is no place for you nor any sane man. The front is just as bad as we thought it would be, but we’ve got a tough group of men here.

Sargent has me staying close to him, for strategy is a game of the mind and not of strength, however I wish I could be out there with my brothers in arms. I do know however, that you would much rather have me stay away from conflict, which is the only good settlement I have in my heart.

I am so glad that you said you were well in your last letter. Funny enough, some days I can go an entire two weeks without receiving a letter from you, only to receiver eight letters in bulk a day later. I worried for you. I know it was not long that we were married and living together, and now we are so far apart. I wish for you to be safe, my love. Stay close with your girls and look out for one another.

I am glad Enji is keeping you busy so you don’t have to worry about me too much. You’re a smart woman, doll. I know you can handle whatever that man has in store.

Now I know I ramble off too much. Sargent says I write too many letters and sending off a letter per day is a waste of paper but I can’t help it. Writing to you is the only time my thoughts reach a point of sanity and relief.

Doll, I love you more than words can say and miss you more than the air I breathe.

Fighting hard for you,

Your husband, Midoriya Izuku

To my darling husband,

Not a single day goes by that I don’t think of you. I know you tell me not to worry, but Izuku, I just can’t help it. It’s hard being so far away from you, knowing where you are and the nightmares you face everyday. I worry that you aren’t getting enough sleep nor enough energy to carry you through. Take care of yourself please, my love. If I can’t be there to take care of you, I need you to do so in my place.

It’s nearly your birthday. I hope my letter came with my little present. It isn’t much but I hope you like it. Its’a handkerchief that I embroidered just for you. I hope it serves you some sort of purpose, I had your mother give me some string to allow me to put it all together for you. She sends her love as well. She’s decided to stay with me and Mina till you all get back, which is much of a relief to me.

I surely have no idea how Mina can do it, but she’s holding on strong. Can you believe she is already six months on? The baby is starting to move and Mina believes it’s a girl. Your mother is giving her a lot of advice and I’m learning everything I can from her. She’s just wonderful for us here. We’re helping some of the other mothers that are here so that they can be strong too. It’s hard now that all of you men are gone, there’s so much to be done and so little of us left to do it but we are holding on strong. We’re making sure your uniforms get to you and so does everything you need.

Mr Todoroki is leaving tomorrow to head to the front to where you are. I convinced him to give you my letters and gift (for the price of some biscuits, which I sincerely hope you get a taste of).

They hit the power stations three nights ago. It’s been dark ever since so I’m writing by candle light at the moment. Our bed doesn’t feel like it should without you here, but I’ll keep it warm for you.

Faithfully waiting,

Your loving wife, Midoriya Y/N

To my loving wife,

I apologise for my lack of letters that you might not be receiving. We’ve been moved to another part of the country so there was not much time to sit down and write to you, nor to get my letters sent properly. It’s been a tough few days out here. Some of the men are sick with typhoid fever, but luckily we’ve had a rather calm few days. The nurses here are working hard for all of us. Especially for poor Kacchan. He managed to save some of us from a landmine, however it seems as though his hearing has been significantly impaired. I stay by his side every moment I can.

I keep your handkerchief in my breast pocket everyday and look at it as I think of you. I pray that you are well and that you are safe. Sometimes I wonder what monsters created war and why they themselves do not fight in it. However, I am just a soldier, I am just a man, and thus is my duty to defend my country and defend you.

You saved me, my love. I wasn’t able to write to you the past two weeks as I was in recovery too. I got shot at (don’t worry, I am doing well, all limbs attached and all). The bullet just managed to hit the locket instead of me. However, now I am stuck with a rather impressive scar but a broken locket.

Love, I have some reason to believe that you should get Mina, Okaasan and the girls and head out of town to Okinawa. If there is one place I know is safe, it is there. Don’t ask why, don’t hesitate either. I pray you receive this letter before it happens.

Eijiro can’t write at the moment, he injured his hand while trying to hold up some rubble to help some injured soldiers escape, but he sends his love to Mina and the little one inside her. I send my love too.

Please, once you get this, get out of town as fast as you can.

Write me a letter when you’re out.

I hope to see you soon.

Your worried husband, Midoriya Izuku

To my loving wife,

I heard on the radio about the bomb.

Dear God, I pray you had escaped before then. It has been three weeks since I sent that letter and I still have yet to hear back from you. I can only pray that you are safe. There isn’t much paper left this side, but Sargent said that we’ll receive orders on what next we should do.

I can only imagine how horrifying it must be.

I’ve heard the nukes they use is powerful enough to that our enemies are playing God, however, I doubt God is as cruel.

Eijiro worries for you, Mina and the baby and so do I.

Please write back to me when you receive this.

Your worrying husband, Midoriya Izuku.

To my darling husband,

I apologise for not being able to write to you. The train down to the coast and the boat trip to Okinawa was one where I could not even sit down to think.

You are a blessing to my life, Izuku. We managed to make it out just in time. It was the night before when we got on the next train down to the coast when we had heard of the bombing near town. Your mother nearly fell in relief. We all managed to get out, thank goodness but I can only pray for the poor souls that didn’t. I think of you everyday and I wish I could accept you into my arms.

I heard we were surrendering. Is it true?

I wouldn’t be surprised, but after all the work you men did these past months, you all deserve to come home.

Tell Eijiro, he should be glad to know that he is now the proud father of a baby girl. She was born just a few days ago. Mina was as tough as can be and the baby is as healthy as a horse. She’s the cutest little thing with big ruby eyes and dark hair. She looks just like Eijiro too. She decided on one of the names Eijiro liked. Yuna. Kirishima Yuna.

Oh she’s the most beautiful little thing in the world Izuku.

I’ve written our new address at the bottom of the letter. The money I managed to save up from your paychecks and savings was more than enough and we still have some savings left too. We’ve got a good little apartment here next to Mina’s. They said it will just be temporary until treaties have been settled, so I wonder where we will go next. Despite everything, I rather do like looking at the sea. I’ve met a few army soldiers that say they’ve met you.

You don’t know how proud I am to be your wife.

I’ll be waiting for you.

Your faithful wife, Midoriya Y/N

To my darling husband,

I heard you’ll be coming back anyday now!! I sure hope that you’re on the next ship over! I can’t wait to see you!

I’ll be waiting on the docks for you.

Your faithful wife, Midoriya Y/N

-Glitch1d

#izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader #mha x y/n #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya x you #midoriya fluff #izuku midoriya fluff #midoriya izuku #midoriya x y/n #midoriya izuku x you #midoriya izuku x reader

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moooncats · 1 month

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✿ Pick A Card : Your Vibes ✿

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Pile 1 : Integrity.

You are full of inspiration which is very addictive. Lowkey- your peers love to absorb your energy so they can get just an ounce of what you have. Please be careful for energy Vampires pile 1! 🧛‍♀️🩸 Use your discretion when interacting with others. I'm seeing here that your energy gives me a feeling of honor. You live life righteously. I'm hearing "Ho'o Pono Pono". Your eyes show the truth in them and your mouth spreads it amongst the universe. People who hear you speak want to follow you. I'm seeing here that you are easily a leader pile 1, and you don't mind if others want to be there by your side as you preach. Trendsetter mindset strongly here. I'm hearing "Genuine". People can just tell that you are wholesome and down to earth. Just like fine wine, your energy is intoxicating. People can tell you have that Je ne sais quoi. You are a truth seeker who is reliable, and you don't really care what people think or say about you. You stay focused in the now. People find that very respectable about you. In my minds eye I'm seeing Mulan. At first what she was doing was against the norms, but she pushed through what others thought and said and did the unthinkable. Pile 1, you are innovators and creatives who have a beautiful aura and energy to share! A true Visionary. ♡ Your soulfulness is really attractive and magnetic as well i'm picking up on old souls. People who resonate with feeling like they've been on earth for a long time and this isn't their first rodeo. People instinctively know not to mess with you, and try to get in your good graces.

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Pile 2 : Dragons.

This is my lucky pile. 🍀♡ You can see the synchronicities in life and you use that to your advantage. Even if you don't even notice yourself doing so, the universe hears your thoughts and does whatever it can at the moment to match your current frequency which is in tuned with wealth. You may love to be grounded in the 4D, you are well at visualizing your goals, dreams, and aspirations. You may also be very grounded in the 3D as well, for ex: you like to take your time to contemplate your actions before you do them. You understand that some of your idea's don't need much attention so you move in secret, and keep your dreams to yourself/others that you find as ride or dies. This pile may also like to look plain when they go on about their day to day tasks. Even if you have an abundance of wealth. You may not flex often unless needed to "understand the assignment". Like a dragon, you keep your precious possesions locked away in your safe haven. You understand that those precious things keep you sane and on the righteous path that has made you into the person that you are. You know how to work hard, and play hard. ✈️ I'm seeing vacations, pamper days, and being at home relaxed in a setting where you get to choose what surrounds you. You like to keep negative vibes out of your sight so your mind can be more clearer. You understand that when your mind is clear, manifesting becomes easier and easier. ⚠️ PSA for this pile, please be careful when it comes to hoarding. If you feel overwhlemed at times, it is okay to let go and observe how you feel after that. "I just sit back and observe" 💅 by Nicki Minaj is what I'm hearing. Sometimes, less can be more. 🌿 One man's trash, is another man's treasure may also resonate with you pile 2. ✨️

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Pile 3 : Family Friendly.

You're seen as a bubbly person. I'm seeing truly's and energy drinks in my minds eye. Your energy is sugary and sweet my pile 3 🍸. It is also very intoxicating as well. Imagine a hummingbird landing on a flower. You are that flower. 🌷 Most of your time is spent well with family/those who you consider as family. People like to think of you as someone who is very reliable, they see you as a cruicial part of their daily routine. You may also be seen as the innocent wide eye'd child you once were (or still are). You love to see others happy, and as a result smiles are never far from your reach. 🌈 You seem to get very good reactions out of people. Even if you've seen someone having a rough day and they lash out on you, they ruminate on their actions and start to feel bad because to them - you are their ohana. They wouldn't dare leave you behind because if they did, who would be their sunshine after a rainy day, or their stars in the nightime? Pile 3, you may also be mothers or fathers as well. If so, your kids love you so much. They appriciate everything you do for them. You're seen as a Magician who can conjure up anything for the right occasions. Love is a strong theme for this pile. I'm seeing your heart chakra is open and when you fully embrace it. I just thought of the scene from the grinch when his heart finally grows bigger and he's ready to be a part of the society he is in. You may, be learning to fit in while being an outsider. Although being an outsider, you are like a magnet to others who you piqued their interests. It's hard to be in a bad mood around someone who's buzzing, it is quite contagious. 🐝✨️

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Thank you for reading this, I appreciate you all. If you have any suggestions on the next reading, don't be afraid to let me know in the comments/dm. ^-^ Stay hydrated and weird everyone. Moooncats out! ✌️🦇✨️

#baby witch #intuition #intuitive #pac #pick a card #tarot #tarotreading #free tarot #tarotblr #witchblr #moooncatstarot

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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year

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txansngum

txansngum [English] n. desperation; feeling of great worry

Anonymous Request: Neteyam's mate from the forest no longer able to stand being away from him after a few year’s travels to meet him at the sea.

After two years apart, you are no longer able to stand being parted from Neteyam, and make the journey across the sea to reunite.

Adult Neteyam. TW: depression.

1,394 words.

I had not slept in two years.

Not really, not deeply, not the way I used to sleep - dreamlessly, peacefully, without worries.

Now, I tossed and turned, sometimes I cried, and mostly, I worried. Every night. I began to dread nightfall, knowing what would lurk for me there.

Dreams of him in danger, of him calling out to me to help, but I was too far away to do anything about it.

I was living a half life, doing only the bare minimum to keep myself alive, to make it through the days, weeks, months, and years until I might see him again.

Knowing he was waiting for me was the only thing that kept me somewhat sane. Sometimes I felt I might be pathetic or desperate, but what was I meant to do about it? I could not stop how I felt.

"I will come back for you, Y/N," he had told me before he left, clutching my hands so tightly I thought he might break them, a great sadness in his eyes, and that was the last thing he said to me.

Over two years ago.

"Y/N," my mother said, gently shaking me awake. Though I was old enough to have a hammock of my own to sleep in, it was too much to bear, and so I stayed with my mother and father. "Y/N, hurry," she said, and I noticed the urgency in her tone. My eyes flew open, and my mother knelt before me, holding a small pack and a poncho.

"You must go, now. You father has left for a hunt. You know the way?"

My mother pulled me into a seated position. "What? What way?" I asked, half asleep, hungry, sad.

"To the Metkayina," she hissed, "to Neteyam. I won't watch you live this way anymore. You must find him."

She shoved the pack into my hands, and pulled the woven poncho over my head.

"Go, now," she insisted.

Still confused, I stood up and exited our home. The clan was not quite awake yet, it was still nearly dark outside. As I breathed in the fresh morning air, my mind began to clear.

My mother was giving me permission to make the journey by myself, to leave her and my father behind, and to see Neteyam again.

My steps quickened, and my heart pounded in my chest. I began to run.

"Ta'ry," I called, clicking my tongue. "Ta'ry!"

Only moments later did I hear the flap of her wings, and she landed before me. "Good morning, Ta'ry," I said, running my hand along the neck of my Ikran. "Are you ready for a long ride?"

With my pack slung over my shoulder, I connected and mounted. I could feel her excitement, reflecting mine.

"Let's go," I whispered, and we took off.

---

The journey took many days, but my mother had put enough food and water in my pack to sustain me. In our down time, Ta'ry hunted for herself and we rested - but not much. I was determined to get there as fast as we could.

My stomach was in a knot the entire time. Though I had faith in Neteyam, two years was quite a long time. Did it mean something that he had not yet returned to me? Had he moved on, joined another clan, and found another woman?

It was not worth thinking about, I tried to tell myself. I would soon find out.

The Metkayina lived along a beautiful shore, on a sandy beach in front of a lush green forest. It was such a sight to behold, my anxiety almost melted away as I approached - but it returned when many gathered on the beach at my approach.

Ta'ry and I landed, and she took off again for the forest, hearing the cries of other Ikran that surely belonged to the Sully family. My heart began to hope.

The na'vi here looked so different from my clan at home. They were a lighter, more green color, and I noticed immediately that most were covered in intricate tattoos.

"Who are you?" a voice called, and I saw an imposing man coming through the small crowd that had gathered. His dark hair was piled on top of his head, and his eyes were narrowed.

"I am... I am Y/N, of the Omatikaya. I come looking for, for the Sullys."

"Y/N?"

I scanned the crowd for the voice calling my name, and through the crowd appeared Lo'ak.

"Oh my god!" he exclaimed. "It's really you! Wait til Neteyam sees!"

He approached me quickly, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

The stress of the journey overtook me, and I fainted in Lo'ak's arms.

When I began to regain consciousness, I was too tired to move or open my eyes. I could feel that I was laying on a soft bed, and I noticed the sound and scent of the ocean near by, and that was enough to remind me where I was... but I was still too tired to move.

People were around me, I could feel and hear them, and then they began to speak.

"She looks so thin," a woman said, and I thought it might be Netyiri. "Look at her face, her hollow cheeks... she must not have been eating enough on the journey."

"Long before that," another woman said, and I felt someone touch my arm, turning it over. "She has been sick a long time. Sick of mind."

She placed something wet and warm inside my wrist, and turned my arm back down.

"She will be better when she sees him. We should have brought her with us, but she was not of age. He has suffered without her, as well, but will not admit it," Neytiri said, her voice full of regret.

"Your youngest boy, or eldest?"

"Eldest," Neteyam's mother said, and I drifted off again.

The next time I woke up, I felt more alert. Taking in a deep breath, I stretched my arms above my head and sighed.

"Y/N!"

My eyes shot open. Sitting beside me was Neteyam, and he looked so different.

He was a man now. He was at least a foot taller, with broad shoulders and long braids, but his eyes were the same, though I had never seen them so full of concern.

"Neteyam!" I sat up, and fell over into his arms. Eagerly, he wrapped them around me, holding me to his chest.

It felt as if I had not truly taken a deep breath for two years, and now my lungs were opening up, finally accepting air. He smelled of the sea, and I began to cry.

"You could have died, Y/N!" he chastised. "Ronal says it looks as if you have not eaten or slept in years. You were not taking care of yourself!"

I winced at his angry words. He pushed me back just a little, and took my face in his hands. "You must eat, and grow strong. You have to keep up here."

"Will they let me stay?"

Finally, his face softened. "You think they would send you away? Bah, of course not. I would not allow us to be parted again, Y/N. Not when you need me to survive." His scowl turned into a teasing smile, and I looked down, blushing.

"I tried. I ate! I just... couldn't sleep," I shrugged, embarrassed at the way I had carried on since we parted.

He pulled me to his chest once more. "Me either. I dreamed of you when I did." He pushed my hair out of my face, and pressed his lips to the top of my head. "I had my bag packed, Y/N. I was set to leave tomorrow to come and bring you back to me."

I sat away from him suddenly, staring at him. "No. Really?"

We were forced to laugh at the absurdity of our situation. "Dad said it was finally safe enough to go back, just long enough to get you and return. But you beat me to it."

He wiped the tears from my eyes, and we smiled at each other.

"You must never leave again, Neteyam," I reached up to grab his wrist. "Not without me."

He pulled my face to his, and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. "Never, Y/N."

#avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam #neteyam x reader #avatar fic

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tsams-confessions · 3 months

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Not so short confession about Eclipse and the entire TSAMS lore: Eclipse was only the bad guy because everyone treated him like one.

Hate me all you want, but was prooven with KC, Solar, old Moon, Lunar (who is technically all that was good inside Eclipse) Ruin, heck, even with Sun that with a TINY BIT of love and care, anyone can change for the better. Solar needed his Sun to care about him in the start, and he never became a bad guy, even after his Sun died. KC needed, what? A 10 MINUTES LONG FRIENDLY CONVO with Glamrock Freddy, and after that he overcame his base coding. Old Moon sacrifised himself to not kill anymore person, giving KC and himself a chance in life to be better. Ruin was saved because new Moon and Sun risked their lifes and only way back to their home to get the cure for Ruin, even though Ruin brought Bloodmoon back, blew up the daycare and tormented them worse than Eclipse. Sun didn't go insane and potentially more suicidal because Earth showed up (I don't think he would've survived the guilt of loosing Moon without her). And Lunar... Eclipse got rid of his part that cared and wanted to be more than a villain, the part of him that longed for love and understanding... and to be fair I would be mad too if I was doomed to be a villain, and then the people who wronged me accepted my scrapped loving part without hesitation (which I scrapped because I hated I cared about said people) while I never got a chance to show I can be better. This doesn't justify what Eclipse did, because he still killed Lunar. Imma say it louder so everyone will understand: THIS DOESN'T JUSTIFY WHAT ECLIPSE DID TO LUNAR, BECAUSE IT WAS HORRIBLE AND WRONG IN SO MANY LEVELS!!!

But who didn't hurt/traumatize/killed their loved ones here? Old Moon was hardcore abusive with Sun and started this whole Eclipse problem (Moon cared still, but that doesn't excuse what he did to Sun), Sun killed Bloodmoon and hate to say it but he killed old Moon too without wanting to, KC, who was literally redeemed and forgiven killed probably hundreds of innocent people. Sun even gave Bloodmoon one last chance to be redeemed, but Eclipse? This mf died while trying to warn the only people he still somehow cared for, no matter how scrapped he was. He was begging to be heard out, not giving a flying fuck if Sun hurts him (and sidenote, even when Moon threatened to kill Eclipse, he accepted it, just wanted to be heard out, while Solar, when his Moon was truthfully wanting to kill him, he killed his Moon. Eclipse didn't even bother). He could've use the star to stop Sun, and he didn't.

And that's what I love in the lore of TSAMS, because this doesn't seem unintentional. Every now and then it's shown and prooven that with a tiny bit of understanding and love, ANYONE can change. All of the main characters (except for Earth and Lunar) did horrible things beforehand, and the only reason they stayed sane and didn't go down on a bad path on the long run because they had love and support by their side. Eclipse died TWICE, and even though it was confirmed by a celestial being who WATCHES THE ENTIRE COSMOS that this Eclipse is not the one who killed Lunar, he still payes the prize of V1 and 2 Eclipse's actions. And honestly... I don't understand new Moon and Solar, the two genius of the current lore: what do you expect from this copy of an Eclipse? He is a literally badly put togther scrapped dude who lives with horrying memories and has no idea why he lives. JUST MAYBEEE, if you'd give him a system repair, he would be less violent and more capable of helping you? Maybe? Oh yeah right I forgot that there is one universal rule throughout all dimensions: we hate and overvillainize our og Eclipse, because anyone deserves a chance in life, expect him.

And again, I'm not trying to protect Eclipse from hate or justify what he did, because he indeed became a villain. But what about everyone else? How come everyone else's action were forgiven and got a chance to be redeemed but not him? I'm not saying everyone should forgive him, heck Lunar has all right to never forgive him! But this Eclipse didn't do the actions he gets the blame for, and he would deserve to finally have more than just hate poured onto him. They don't have to forgive Eclipse, but if KC got a chance and Sun was WILLINGLY wanting to give a chance to Bloodmoon too, Eclipse has all right to get his redemption, because with Solar, it was prooven all an Eclipse needs is love and understanding.

#sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #tsams #sams #tsams confession #< block this if you dont want to see these #mod 1blood

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everythingelseisextra · 10 months

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David and Goliath

Part Sixteen: Cain (Tommy's POV)

Description: Tommy fucks up. :) Warnings: references to rape, references to suicide, language, minor self harm Word Count: 3490 Tag List: @theshelbyslimited @ttaechi @weaponizedvirtue @Majesticcmey @Optimisticsandwichgladiator @zablife @princesssterek @mm0thie @callsignvenus @ay0nha @mgdixon @fairytale07 @dreamy-caramel @ce1iat @algae-tm @dragonsondragons @trentknd @nothingofsimplicity @babayaga67 @shelbydelrey @globetrotter28 @look-at-the-soul @notalxx @chaengist

Arrow House sits in silence, only half sane. The ghosts of the Shelby family haunt the entrance, their shouts echoing in your ears. The commotion in the entryway reached you, even as you sat in the master bedroom, and Polly’s cries and Arthur’s yells and John’s indignant roars fill the quiet room. You close your eyes, and you can imagine the police, Moss in their midst, forcing them into the darkened, freezing cells that you yourself sat in only a few days ago. And Tommy at the edge of it, watching his family taken from him as a consequence of his own actions, an unforgivable choice he made.

You expect him to join you when he’s ready. It tugs on you, the sense that you need to protect him from himself, but you have to trust that his ability to fight his own mind will hold out. You trust that your presence in the house is reason enough for him to keep the gun in its drawer.

You think that this will be another thing he buries so deep that he forgets there’s anything underground. This will be too painful for him to keep in his hands, and it will trickle out between the cracks of his fingers until there is nothing to hold. His family is his core, the glowing ember of warmth that lives next to the heart he likes to pretend is stone. Now, he’s lost them. Now, all he has is you.

It’s some time before he enters the room. He doesn’t look at you, just sweeps past, heading into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him and water runs softly from behind it. You wait in silence, leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes, listening to the impure silence. The water stops, the door creaks open, and his footsteps slowly walk across the room. You open your eyes to find him heading towards the door, eyes set on the wooden floor in front of him. Your eyes narrow. There’s a hesitation to each step he takes, a slight pause, a tilt of his head. You’re waiting for him. He’s waiting for you.

“Tommy.” You stand and walk over to him, your bare feet cold on the wood. Part of you wants to inject some playfulness into your words, but the rest of you knows that, after something like this, that might be his breaking point. “Hey, come sit. Take a second to talk to me.”

His gaze stays on the floor, but, almost imperceptibly, he nods. You step back and lead him over to the chair you’d been sitting in, in front of a small desk that you’d claimed as yours the past few days. You sit on the bed, facing him, hands on either side of you. Soft light flows from the window next to you, and the sunrays seem to gentle your gazes on each other, creating a sort of barrier. It’s warm on your face and reflects in his eyes, which refuse to look at you.

“I would give you a pep-talk,” you start, nervousness slowing your words. “I would tell you that you’ve had high highs and low lows, and that the pendulum will swing back up again, but I won’t. I respect you too much for that. You and I both know that life tends to kick you while you’re down. We know that there’s no such thing as rock bottom, it’s always possible to go lower. So, all I’ll say is this; I’m here. I’m not leaving. As complicated as I’m learning your life is, I’d like to try to be simple together. If you want to be alone, that’s okay. If you don’t, I can be with you.”

He leans back in his chair, sighing. Exhaustion tightens his skin over his bones, his face drawn, his eyes a little glassy. “You’re not leaving.”

“No.” You furrow your brow, confused. “Why would I?”

“My family is gone. My boy is back. I’m a new man.” He slides a small metal container from his pocket, opens it, and pulls out a cigarette. “I have no room in my life for a woman who sets no store for a man’s needs.”

You nod slowly, almost incredulous. “You’re telling me that, after all this, you want me to leave because I won’t fuck you.”

He inclines his head, reaching out to offer you a cigarette. Your jaw clenches and you ignore his hand. Your next words are clipped. “My horses are literally in your stables. I’m not sure what kind of crisis move you’re making here, but it feels like one that’ll be… how should I say this in a way you’ll understand? Bad for business.”

He lights his cigarette and takes a long drag. He speaks on the exhale. “Bad for business is a woman I can’t explain living in my house. You’re not a whore, you’re not my wife, you’re not the mother of my son.”

You chuckle. “So you’re telling me I either become your whore, marry you, or become a nanny for Charles.”

“I’m telling you to leave.”

“And then, months later, hear that you’ve blown your brains out, because no one, including me, would pick up the phone.”

“Curly will start moving your horses in the morning. I’ve covered the cost of transportation.”

“How kind of you.”

“In the meantime, you’ll pack. You’ll prepare yourself to leave.” He wiggles his cigarette at you, eyes dull.

“And what if I say no?” You lean forward, almost mocking.

“If you say no, then, unfortunately, I may have to get the authorities involved.”

“‘Yes, hello, I’d like to report that a woman who I said I’d protect and invited to live with me is living in my house. Has she committed a crime? Yes, she won’t fuck me when I want, because I’m a teenaged boy who needs to get off every thirty minutes.” You let anger slide into your voice, let it bite. “Jesus Christ, listen to yourself.”

He blinks blankly at you, then rises with a soft groan. “There’s work to be done. Please collect your things.”

“Thomas.” You stand, hands curling into fists, then relaxing. “You send me away now, you’re sending me back to the life I used to live. If you understand that, you’re as bad as the men who sold and raped me.”

His eyebrows raise in an infuriatingly bewildered expression, then he shakes his head. “I am. I apologize if that wasn’t clear from the start.”

—

Night falls. Fog fills the air around you, rises from the warm bodies of the horses. Unlike your own barn, Tommy’s is lit, and you can see the confused, wide, liquid eyes staring at you from within the stalls. Draco nickers quietly, throwing his head. He’s been your rock, your shoulder to cry on, the only comfort to you on nights where your body felt as battered and broken and abused as it had during those awful years of horror.

It’s not him you stand with, though. It’s not his mane you bury your tears in, not his warm body you lean against to carry your shivering weight. Iris had one more month of recovery before he would be able to be ridden again, and now, you have to apologize to him. You have to apologize to all of them, in time, for being unable to care for them. For forfeiting the safety you thought you had. For failing.

You would be brought back to your own property in an hour. Your horses would trickle in after you. You’d feed them, slip back into the routine of caring for them, and the timer on your life would start to count down. You could fight. You would fight. You’d fight tooth and nail, use every bit of strength built up over years of manual labor, shoot straight and fast and confident, and still, you know you’ll lose.

Iris turns his head to blink at you as you stand by his side, leaning your weight on his shoulder. You wipe your face of tears and draw yourself up, pulling your shoulders back and squaring your legs to your hips like a soldier. You stand strong. Right now, you’re a survivor. Your quiet claim to life is that you fought for it. Like David with Goliath, you stood against a gargantuan opponent and managed to live to tell the tale. And, here you are, with your bags packed, ready to walk yourself back to that Goliath and allow him to smash your skull. You have no slingshot. You have no rock. There is no God on your side.

Your fingers gently pull through the knots in Iris’ mane. You should be angry. There should be a burning anger in you that threatens to overwhelm. You should feel it in your bones, in your heart and veins, and you should act in some sort of way on it. You should set fire to his garden, release his horses to the wild.

Truth is, you don’t know how to be angry with someone. All your life, you’ve been taught to stand down, to take whatever comes without question, and to continue despite it all. You’ve been trained to cower, to take each hit without protest. A cornered animal will always bite, but an abused pet will flinch away, fearful, all the teeth beaten out of it. You weren’t meant to fight as hard as you do.

You close your eyes, and like Tommy said for you to do, you prepare to leave.

Your body has a master and it is not you, and it is not God. Caged by a twisted form of humanity, you will be an animal at a zoo. You will gawked and stared at, poked and prodded, and, behind the scenes, you will be used for all your worth. This body you were born in ripples with scars from the years of prostitution and mental torture, and it’s a cold sort of hell. So much touch and so little care. You are only worth so much. You know the literal price of your life. You know how much this body of yours sells for.

When you open your eyes, the world is in black and white. You will not see the blood they rip from your veins. You will not see the color of their bare skin. Your hand moves from Iris’ mane to your upper arm, and you press down on it, your fingernails biting into your skin. There’s an echo of pain somewhere in you, but your skin is so thick that it’s separate, a step away from your consciousness. You will not feel the penetration. You will not feel the hands grabbing at your flesh, you will not feel their bodies pressed against you. A horse calls and the sound bounces away from you, not quite touching you, and you take a deep breath. You will not hear their moans or the heated lies they tell you in the dark.

This body that is all you have will no longer be yours. It is only a matter of time.

The rest of the night crawls past you as a blur. You know you are steady. You know that you step with purpose, your head held high, with no connection with what you feel or how you will survive this. You lift your suitcase and walk down the elegant, well-lit stairs, the portraits of Tommy’s late wife staring down at you with a gaze that tells you that you are lesser. You haven’t seen him since he left the master bedroom. There’s a murmur of emotion in you when you think of him, but you brush past it in your mind. There is no room for you in his life.

A car waits out front for you. You take a deep breath and look up at the stars. When you were younger, before the world turned against you, you thought you would reach out and touch them even if it burned. Now, you know you could, and the fire would eat away at you, and you would feel nothing. You thought you’d been as close to death as you could be without dying, but this emptiness in you, this blurred vision, this hollow chest is proof that you can stand hand in hand and not die. Maybe, you think, maybe you would rather die than become a commodity once again. There is a gun in the kitchen drawer.

You slip into the back seat of the car, and, at least, it is warm. The driver glances back at you in the mirror. He says something that washes over you and away, and you turn to look out the window, then twist to look back at Arrow House. A single light shines from the drawing room, the curtain pulled back, and you know he is watching. Despicable and traitorous, he watches you crawl back to a life you said you would never live again.

You turn back as the car begins to move out of the driveway. You close your eyes and a tear rolls out. You sit in the darkness and shrink into your mind, sitting in the back of it, watching through as your body breathes and shifts and lives apart from you, without you. You wipe the tear and, eyes still closed, you melt into the atmosphere and become nothing.

The car jerks to a stop and you open your eyes. The driver lets out a slow breath and glances back at you, then looks back through the windshield.

Lit by the headlights in sharp relief, Tommy stands, breathing hard as if he’d run to stop you. You watch him, expectation in his eyes, and you see a spoiled little boy who enjoys playing games.

“Keep driving,” you say, voice hoarse.

“Ma’am, I can’t. He’s—”

“Go around.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Hesitantly, the driver inches the car forward, turning to move around Tommy, who’s eyes widen slightly.

He reaches underneath his coat and pulls out his gun, pointing it at the driver.

“Ma’am, I—” Panic fills the driver’s voice. “I’m sorry, this isn’t—”

“It’s okay. Stop the car.”

He does as you say, and, slowly, you open the door and step out into the night.

You stay where you are in the darkness, letting Tommy stay in the light. You wait for him to speak first.

“You forgot something.” His voice carries over the sound of the engine.

You cross your arms, trying to warm yourself from the cold. “Oh, did I? Please, enlighten me.”

“Come into the light, and I’ll show you.”

“No.”

He looks up at the black sky, then steps out into the darkness, coming within a few feet of you. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small square box, rounded corners, velvet wrapped. Your heart goes cold. He opens it and holds it out. A sleek, silver ring glints in the light from the headlights, golden highlights sparking. You shiver and look up at him.

“Not a whore, not a mother.” He smiles faintly. “Yet.”

You slap him. Not hard, but enough to make your point. Then, without a word, you turn and walk down the long driveway back to the house. In your periphery, you watch him reach up and touch his cheek where you hit him, then slowly close the box and place it back in his pocket.

—

He waits an hour before he seeks you out. You’re curled in the fetal position, lying in one of the spare bedrooms. You stare blankly at the wall across from you. There’s no color to your vision. The pillow has long since dried from your tears.

He knocks on the door, waits a full minute for a response. When he doesn’t get one, he quietly lets himself in. His footsteps are bare and light. He sits on the opposite side of the bed, sighing, and you close your eyes again. You’re not sure you want to hear what he has to say.

“I’m not a good man.” His voice is quiet, almost shameful, and he speaks to the ground, faint to you. “I’ve made that clear tonight. You never heard about me cause you were never in Birmingham. If you had, you’d know, I’m not a good man.”

You clench your jaw and stay quiet, wait for him to say what he thinks will make up for the pain and terror he’s caused.

He clicks his tongue, almost wincing. “Lost my family today. Decided that meant I needed a fresh start. Needed to move away from all this— this Peaky Blinders shit and focus on more gentlemanly matters. I felt possessed to get away from it all. From any reminder of it. That included you.” He takes a slow breath, sighing it out. “You reminded me, as you should have, that a better man would never send you away. I would be sending you and your horses to death or worse. It took me far too long to remember that, and for that, I am sorry.”

You open your eyes, blinking hard, trying to stop tears from rolling out once more.

“You saved my life. I can’t return the favor, not in the same way, but I can preserve yours. That I will do. I won’t try to send you away again. I understand now how misguided that was.” You feel his gaze on your back and you try to smooth out your breathing, steady yourself so he can’t see that you’re human, that you’re affected by him.

He’s quiet for a moment, then, voice weak and childish, he manages two words you never truly expected him to say. “I’m sorry.”

You sniffle and croak out a short, shaky sentence. “Am I worth anything to you?”

“Yes.” His response comes immediately. “You are.”

“Then why don’t you act like it?”

“I told you that first night. Something in me has been broken since the war. Maybe since my mum. I don’t have the words for it. You’ve seen it, now. You’ve seen it.”

You nod shakily. “You were ready to watch me drive off to my death.”

“I would never have let you leave the driveway.”

“But you let me think you would.” A tear leaks out and you angrily wipe it away. “You let me think that you cared so little about me that you would watch me go back to a life I couldn’t survive.”

“You know what I think?” He shifts towards you, turning his body so he faces your back.. “I think that you’re the first person to see the fucking rotten part of me and still stay in this house.”

“I have nowhere else to go, Tom.” Your voice breaks. “You realize that. I have nowhere else to go, and you can’t decide whether you want me or not, and I’m worthless unless I sleep with you or marry you.”

His voice drops to a mere murmur. “I want you.”

“You didn’t an hour ago.”

“I told you I was sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t enough!” You sit up, fully crying now, and face him. “You fucked up, and I don’t know where there is to go from here.”

“I do. I know where to go.” He reaches back into his pocket and pulls out the ring box. “I—”

“Stop! Stop with the fucking ring! I don’t want to belong to you, I don’t want—”

“Listen. You can say no. Just fucking listen.” His hand shakes slightly as he holds it in his lap. “I’m not a good man. I try to be, but I’m not. But you— you make me think I can be if I try. That’s a rare fucking thing. You will never belong to me. You will never belong to anyone. It’s a shot in the fucking dark, and things like this come and go as they please, but if I can, if I could, I’d like to be that shot in the dark. If it’s up to me, it’ll be us in the end. I’m not a good man, but I promise, I will be good to you and for you. Love is far, far away, but it gets closer when I’m with you. So, I’m asking you, because I need you with me, to look past the way I hurt you and see that I do care for you. I do think you’re worth something.” He reaches out and gently wipes a tear from your cheek, hand trembling. “I’m asking for a selfish thing. I’m asking for you to see the blood on my hands and love me anyway. I’m asking you to marry me.”

He is broken promises and shaking fists, and you know, he did not mean to be cruel, but that doesn’t mean he was kind to you. So, you take a breath, trying to stay steady, and you open your mouth to reply.

#only the wild ones #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaker blinders fandom #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders fanfic

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stxrvel · 5 months

Text

i don't wanna live forever (1)

summary: reader couldn't stop having deaths in her life ever since the Supersoldier serum came into her life. no matter how hard she tried to stay sane, it seemed that life didn't want to give her a break. until, one afternoon, she learned that one of her old friends was alive… (you guys know im bad at summaries, but please give this one a chance)

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4.5k

warnings: angst, major character deaths, canon deaths¿?, bad words, english is not my first language! thoughts of revenge and death, this is like an introductory chapter, so the buckyxreader interaction is low, but it'll get better, i promise!

note: holy fuck guys. i just spent like five hours writing and editing this and i fucking love it. its been a while since ive been this proud of a work, im actually scare the emotion will disappear, but i really want to rejoice in this one. i wanted to write something a little different from my usuals, maybe a little common in the fanfiction world, but i started and i simply could not stop (or maybe just approach this bucky fic from another perspective). so this is the first part and i'll try with all my heart to keep this going because it was fucking insane, at least for me. i really hope you all like this as much as i do! feel free to leave any comment! thanks always for all the support!! see you next time <3

part 2 ; part 3 ; part 4

When you went into the Supersoldier serum project with Steve, you thought you were going to change the world. Of course, at that time when technology was relatively new any invention felt like the beginning of a new era. That's how it was all sold to you and it was how you expected everything to turn out… Until you realized that it was all really a waste of effort and time.

They were just propaganda for war. Not to stop it, to promote it. To motivate it.

You tried, on several occasions, not to think too much about it. You tried to stay out of it as Steve sometimes asked you to, even though even he didn't want to, as Bucky asked you to when you lay on his shoulder to cry in the little time you had free between trips. It was a great burden of guilt and helplessness.

Until you and Steve, with the almost imposed help of Peggy and Howard, rescued Bucky from the evil hands of Johann Schmidt and his nefarious organization, HYDRA, that, unbeknownst to you, would haunt you for a long time to come. It was only after that, after spending several sleepless days on edge thinking about what might be happening to Bucky, that you and Steve were finally able to go out and contribute something. Destroy HYDRA and the Red Skull's plans.

Of course, you realized that not everything could go right when, the one mission you couldn't attend, Bucky didn't return. And then Steve didn't come back either.

“Do you think this will ever end?” you had asked Bucky the day before his last mission.

“Of course it will,” he had answered without hesitation, moonlight illuminating his clear eyes, squeezing your hand as if it was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life. “And after that we can begin to live as it should be.”

But there was no after that, because you never recovered from losing him. From losing them both.

“Are you okay?” Peggy approached, in the middle of the afternoon when the sun was streaming through the stained glass windows of the church, illuminating the spot where Steve's empty coffin had been, because they didn't even find his body. They didn't even think there was any of it left.

You barely moved your head to acknowledge her presence, moving the prayer slip they had recited throughout the mass between your hands. Your eyes were crystallized, in tears that no longer even made the effort to flow, because you had already spent too many days and nights crying. Peggy had been on the other side of the church, sitting next to Howard while the priest spoke, because you had refused to be near them in those moments. You didn't want to be near them.

“As well as one can be,” you slurred, finding that it had been a long time since you'd last used your voice for anything other than cursing and crying disconsolately.

The people had already left, probably an hour or more ago. The empty coffin had already been brought out, all the flower arrangements had been picked up, and the priest was preparing for the evening mass. You knew you had to leave, you knew Peggy and Howard were there waiting for you, but you felt stuck at that moment. You didn't want to leave, you didn't want to get ahead, you didn't want that life if it had to be this cruel.

You heard Peggy's sigh, before she took a seat next to you, a short distance away, averting her gaze to look at Christ on the cross.

You didn't know if you were selfish to be so closed off to your friends at this moments, because they must be grieving as much as you were, but you didn't know how to deal with the future possibilities. Bucky and Steve, great men and soldiers, one even with enhanced abilities, had not been able to make it through the punishment of war. What if Peggy and Howard were the same? What if they too had the cruel fate of dying at the hands of injustice? Could you deal with that? With everyone gone?

Maybe you could open up to them a little more because if not, who else? Turning away from them was not going to ensure their survival in this hate-filled society. Maybe you could protect them, like you couldn't protect Steve and Bucky. Maybe you could make a difference, because you had the chance to.

“You know,” Peggy spoke again, rearranging herself on the bench and crossing her legs, “Steve always knew this was how it would end.”

Her wistful, mournful, fragile voice sent a shiver through your body. Peggy didn't consider herself someone to show herself vulnerable in front of others no matter how close they were, even in those things that hurt her the most, in those things that affected her personally and made her eyes water instantly, she always tended to shut down. And at that moment you didn't dare interrupt her because you knew it would probably be the only time she would talk about Steve in a long time.

“Sometimes we'd talk, between tour trips, and he would tell me that wasn't what he wanted to do, even when he had to convince you otherwise,” her clasped hands would occasionally squeeze between words, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. “He didn't know if he'd made the right decision.”

You could almost picture him, backstage at the foot of the stairs with that notebook he carried everywhere and wouldn't let go, Peggy at his side nostalgic, as helpless as the others. It reminded you of the times you'd had similar conversations with Bucky, desperate to find a purpose, a way through so much fog.

“The first time I saw him so sure of himself was when he asked us to help them look for Bucky,” she mumbled his name, as if trying not to scare you away by saying it too loudly. “Ever since then it seemed like he'd found that spark…”

“Until Bucky died,” you whispered, the words cutting through the cold and silence, Peggy shifting on the bench contritely.

“He lost something of himself from that day on, it wasn't hard to tell. The next time I heard him so sure after spending days lost, it was on that call from the plane.”

Peggy paused, raising her hand to cover her mouth as her voice faltered. You turned to look at her, wishing you could rip the pain from her soul and leave it in yours. She was trying to contain her emotions, breathing deeply, and in that moment you wondered what life might be like from now on, with the specter of grief following you around, waiting for the next time the dead knocked on your doors, unexpectedly, without allowing you to say goodbye.

“He had told me he wouldn't die in peace until he could get it all over with. And he took it all with him. And I hated him so much for it…” Peggy sobbed, her labored breathing standing out between words. She kept looking straight ahead at the stained glass windows, the expression on her face hard and scowling despite having tears rolling down her cheeks, as if she were trying to blame something for what had happened. Her reproachful eyes fixed on the Christ.

Her wails echoed through the walls of the church, the father on the dais sending them a look of sorrow. He had offered you water, thirty minutes after everyone at Steve's wake had left, when they kept walking, and you stood there.

Another empty casket.

“Ladies,” Howard's voice reached your ears amidst all the physical and emotional numbness. You could barely notice Peggy wiping under her eyes with the pocket square that was surely part of Howard's suit, as she took breaths to get up. “We should go now.”

You heard him walk, his slow, careful steps stopping just behind you. There, on his feet with his chest tight, he rested a hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze in support. He knew it was the most you would allow him at a time like this, deciding not to pass up the opportunity to let you know he was there. You sighed, feeling a heaviness take over your body as you stood up.

“Yeah, let's go.”

The next few months passed in a blur. Maybe too fast, maybe too slow, you weren't sure anymore.

Peggy continued to work at the Strategic Science Reserve for a couple of years, calling you from time to time to help her with some jobs. You kept a low profile, practically a fugitive from the state, while trying to live a halfway normal life in Europe. A lot of it thanks to Howard really.

Life had become a rather monotonous routine when you stopped getting so many calls from Peggy and Howard several years later. You knew they were fine, but not being able to return to the country filled you with anguish every day. And trying to lead a normal life became too complicated when you looked in the mirror and it seemed like not a single day had passed since you were in that capsule of Dr. Erskine's with Steve.

Until Peggy called one day asking you to come back. She told you that it was safe, that there would be no state officials waiting for you at the airport, but even if that had been the situation, you wouldn't have hesitated for a second to buy the first plane ticket and fly to see them again. To Howard and Peggy, to melt into an embrace, longing for the lost years.

You had thought that contributing to the fight in World War II had earned you a ticket to at least be recognized in the military, but all you gained was the government with their mad scientists looking for you to try to recreate the Supersoldier serum. Peggy didn't want to risk you and Howard gave you no choice by giving you a plane ticket to Finland with your bags packed.

You wasted many years not being by their side, unable to keep the promise you had made them in your head to be close by to protect them, to watch over their safety.

But when you left the airport there was only Peggy, and maybe that should've told you everything.

Her hair already looked gray, the effects of gravity and time present on her face. You hated to think that you shouldn't have looked any different from the way she saw you last time when she waved you off at that same airport. Her warm gaze was the same, raising her arms with held back tears to encircle you in a big hug. She tried hard not to sob against your shoulder, you felt the choppy movement of her breath against your chest.

She looked so different and the same at the same time.

You walked to her car a moment later, her trying to carry your suitcase and you telling her you were perfectly fine carrying it on your own. Amidst a smile, she walked into the driver's door and you frowned as you saw the empty passenger seat.

“Where's Howard?” you spoke as you sat down, after stowing the huge suitcase in the trunk of the car. The way you moved to buckle up, you didn't notice the way Peggy froze in place, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that her breath hitched from the effort.

“We're going to see him,” was all she said, but she was very good at hiding that something was wrong. Only for a little while.

During the trip, even though you tried to ask things about them, about what they had been doing during this time, you didn't miss the way her shoulders were tense or her eyes very alert. Something bad had happened and Peggy was trying to hide it from you.

When she pulled up in front of a church, you already knew what had happened without her answering a single one of your questions.

Howard had died.

You two had sat next to Howard's son Tony, his spitting image, in complete silence as the prayers went on. At that moment you didn't know what had happened, hoping it had been a quiet and peaceful death, because you didn't know if you would be able to endure another violent death.

Peggy gave you all the details when the mass was over, after the coffin was taken away, and you hadn't felt such fury in so many years. Not since the deaths of Bucky and Steve had that adrenaline rush of anger returned to run through your body as violently as it did at that moment, when Peggy told you that he had been murdered along with his wife. All to steal some prototypes of Dr. Erskine's serum. The damned serums with which everything had started.

This time there was a body in the coffin, but there was also a culprit. Someone to point the finger at and take it out on for years of anguish and pain.

You were at Peggy's house, staying for a few days, when she told you that wasn't all.

Peggy had a suspicion that HYDRA hadn't disappeared when Steve crashed that plane into the ice. Her suspicions generated panic in you, because Bucky and Steve had died for that, now apparently Howard, only for it all to have been for nothing. The feeling of carnage that ran through your whole head made you nauseous, years of helplessness and pain pent up in such a small body had to find its way out somehow.

“It was a man, according to the information I've been able to gather,” Peggy spoke, taking a seat across from you in the dining room of her living room, after pouring you a glass of lemonade. “He didn't die from the crash. He had a concussion. He was hit in the head. His wife died from asphyxiation.”

“Does Tony know?”

“No,” Peggy shook her head quickly, one hand over her heart as if the mere thought caused her physical pain. “It didn't even occur to me to tell him something like that.”

“And he was looking for the serum,” you recalled, a bitter feeling planted in the back of your throat, the memories of the disastrous times during the war coming back into your head like a blinding flash.

“He took them. We don't know who he is or who he works for, but whoever they are, they must have been following us for a long time to know about them.”

“You mean years,” you arched an eyebrow, your fingers touching the cool exterior of the glass seeking some reassurance.

“Possibly. That project isn't recent,” Peggy nodded, drinking her lemonade with a grimace. You stared at the liquid almost finished from her glass, a wrinkle forming between your brows with each passing second and you kept wondering why.

“But what the fuck was going through that asshole's head?” you spat angrily. Rage at already the amount of lives that serum had taken with it and at Howard's recklessness. Rage at the reaper who seemed to be following in their footsteps for some reason, rage at that damn man and whoever his damn boss was.

“It was the only option, Y/N,” Peggy turned her gaze, meeting your eyes with a strange glint.

“What do you mean?” you were almost afraid to ask, your friend's gaze suddenly turning evasive. You watched her run her fingernails over the glass of the tumbler, lost for a moment in thought. The way her shoulders slumped forward in defeat caused a pressure in your chest that made it hard to breathe. Peggy shouldn't be going through these things at this point in life.

“Howard was working with the Pentagon, as a contractor or something. They had found you. Howard felt cornered and they made him sign an agreement.”

With your incredulous look on her face, Peggy didn't dare look back at you for a few seconds. So much had happened since you had left and it seemed that you had only been told about the things you weren't going to care about so much. But if you had known that you wouldn't have cared much about giving some of the state officials their comeuppance. You would've liked Howard to trust you enough to tell you, not live in as much fear behind his back as the last few years must've been. You didn't like the way Peggy's lips curved downward, as if she, too, would've preferred to make another decision had she known this was how it was going to end.

“Howard assured them that he could recreate the serum, and told them he would as long as they left you alone.”

“Fucking asshole…” you closed your eyes, scrubbing your face with your hands. The rough skin of your hands rubbed against the delicate skin of your face, years of combat and mistreatment foreseeing a harshness that reminded you every day of what you'd had to go through to get to that moment.

“I only found out about it after it happened. I didn't see it for like a whole week,” Peggy shook her head slightly, her eyes glistening in the pain of the memories. You shook your head hard, a more violent reaction than you could have anticipated.

“That stupid… stupid asshole! What the fuck made him think I couldn't defend myself?”

“He was trying to do the right thing,” Peggy finally searched your eyes, meeting the red rims that told her you were holding back too hard breaking in front of her, only using that pain mixed with rage to keep you sane.

“And look how that turned out!”

Peggy stretched her hand across the table, with a pleading look asking you to lower your voice, averting her gaze to the hallway. You followed her gaze, for a second forgetting where you were, forgetting that her family was with you behind the doors where you were plunged into darkness. It was past midnight.

You took a second to calm yourself, trying to drown out the uncontrolled emotions and taking deep breaths to calm your fluttering heart.

“And if what you theorize is true…” you regretted the moment those words left your mouth; you didn't even want to finish the sentence.

“Do you think it is?”

“I don't want to,” you shook your head instantly, closing your eyes, the thought sounding illogical inside your head. Your hands on your chest trying to contain the storm of feelings that was making chaos inside your head. “That would mean that everything we did, everything Bucky, Steve and Howard did and sacrificed, was in vain. It will all have been in vain.”

You spent several weeks with that thought in your head, working hand in hand with Peggy, and the organization you barely knew as SHIELD, to track down the whereabouts of the killer of Tony's parents and the one responsible because the Supersoldier's serums were, surely, in the wrong hands.

And yes, it was many years of fruitless missions and dead ends, with you running every field mission and Peggy calling the shots from the New York facility. Every time you felt close to discovering something, it seemed that the enemy rejoiced in your failures and still couldn't understand how they were always three steps ahead.

However, you had to leave the missions when Peggy became ill.

The silent, lethal Alzheimer's.

During the first months in the hospital, she still recognized you. She also recognized her husband and children. But after the first year, she frowned every time her children walked through the door. After a year and a half, her husband had to remind her that they had been married for about forty years.

After two years, she was still only remembering you, Howard, Steve and Bucky. Her whole life during her time in the army was all you talked about, sometimes you would tell her how much more time had passed than she remembered and always, without fail, she would ask you how much you had done in Europe for so long by yourself.

She cried every time she remembered Howard's death. She cried every time she remembered her children. Out of her mouth came a thousand apologies that no one would accept, because there was nothing anyone could do to prevent what had to happen. You wished she had been a serum test subject instead of you.

For several years, missions to find Tony's parents killer were sporadic because you spent more time around Peggy than at the SHIELD facility. She was the only thing you had left of everything you'd ever had, of when you held the world in your hands. She was the last thing keeping you tethered to that reality, keeping madness from flooding your reason. How could you have so many years ahead of you when that was all you had to live for? A life full of the dead, full of pain and suffering. What kind of karma were you paying for?

You were leaving the SHIELD facility, after another failed mission, when Nick Fury stopped you in front of the exit. You almost rolled your eyes right under his watchful gaze, tired of having to meet him anywhere, and exhausted from his comments about this vengeance project or whatever he wanted you to be a part of.

You still didn't know how, being such an exemplary agent, Coulson had fallen into his nets.

“Miss L/N,” the man stopped you with his words, his hands behind his back and a tense stance that caught your attention.

“Fury,” you nodded in his direction, hoping he'd be quick because you were running late for your weekly visit with Peggy. “Do you need anything?”

“I'd like you to come with me somewhere,” Fury approached tentatively, his one eye fixed on your wary expression, which shifted to boredom the moment you thought you knew what he wanted.

“If this is about that project, I've told you a thousand times-”

“No,” he interrupted you, moving forward and removing his hands from behind his back. “It's not related to that. I really want you to come with me.”

“You look agitated, but I need-”

“I'll take you to see Peggy myself after this.”

You didn't like that he knew your routine, even though you weren't doing enough to hide it from the other agents. But Fury looked nervous, even though he was hiding it very well, trying to keep his cool as he looked for ways to convince you.

You figured it wouldn't be a big deal for you to go off the deep end for once. After all, Peggy never remembered you were going to see her.

You set off in Fury's armored vans, not quite sure where you were going, but sure that it was urgent, because he had taken it upon himself to let his driver know that you had to get there as soon as possible.

You took that time on the trip to come up with a new strategy for the next mission because what you were doing up to that point wasn't working and you felt too close to throwing in the towel, figuratively speaking. You could spend years following a ghost, but you wouldn't give up on finding Howard and Maria's killer.

Before the car pulled up to one of SHIELD's secret sections, they passed the giant, imposing Stark Tower. You never saw Tony again after that time at his parents' funeral, not even during his visits to Peggy because you always made it a point not to cross him. You didn't think you'd be able to look him in the eye while you knew his parents had been killed without being able to tell him. You had promised Peggy in her lucid moments that you wouldn't tell him anything until you could find the culprit. You didn't want to initiate that pain if it had to be kept repressed, as yours once was, and probably still is. You had learned, some time after the funeral, that he was living with Edwin Jarvis, and you were glad to know that he would have good companionship to keep him company in such hard times.

Fury, a handful of agents and you entered the vans through the entrance to what appeared to be the parking lot of an old warehouse. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the number of armed agents that seemed to be guarding the place, not at all discreet to how SHIELD used to do things. You weren't sure if Peggy would authorize something like that, but you couldn't question the Director's decisions. It wasn't your place.

“What's going on here?” you frowned, watching as every meter there was another agent and another agent. You got out of the car without waiting for an answer from Fury, moving directly toward the entrance where most of the agents were concentrated. You barely noticed their looks in contradiction, running their eyes over you and then over the man trying to catch up to you, dubious as to whether or not they should move. “Move.”

“Wait,” Fury's voice stopped the command in the agents, who turned back to look at you as you sent Fury a confused look.

“What's all this mystery, Nicholas?” the man startled almost discreetly at your tone of voice, the agents stirring uncomfortably, but kept the serene expression that was getting on your nerves. “What the fuck did you do?”

“We got a call from the Arctic.”

“From the Arctic?”

You tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck instantly stood up, your body alerting you to something your mind still couldn't comprehend. You felt like a deer face to face with a predator, expecting the worst.

“The Colonel informed us of something that might interest us,” Fury's cryptic voice echoed in your ears, drowning out the flicker of uncertainty vibrating from your head to your toes. “They found a plane.”

You didn't even answer him. Your heart began to pound wildly, cornered, ready to have your head bitten off. The tension in your shoulders intensified, with the involuntary movement of your hands as you broke into a cold sweat. The mere implication of his words caused an emptiness in your stomach, a sense of longing and fear you hadn't felt before.

You looked at Fury, trying to find in his gaze the gleam of a lie, but there was nothing there but assurance. There was nothing but recognition and understanding in his gaze, but that didn't make the emptiness in your stomach and the tight chest go away. It didn't make the feeling of being outside your body go away.

You barely remembered to move in the direction of the door, the agents instantly moving out of your way, pushing it so hard that one of them flew out. You moved your eyes around every corner of the room, the cream-colored walls generating a great repulsion in you. And there, in the midst of all the confusion and the storm, a confused and disgruntled face looked back at you. A face you never thought you would see again.

Steve Rogers was standing a few feet away from you, barely comprehending what was happening around him and instantly recognizing you. Your chest compressed once again, the tears you held back for so many years even in your loneliness making their own way into your eyes, endangering to end that mask you wore everywhere you went.

Steve was actually there, looking back at you with his eyes shining in recognition. You didn't know if he was as surprised as you were to react or you looked so bad that he didn't know if he should approach you or not. You just knew it was him, it really was him right there in front of you. He wasn't dead. Steve wasn't dead. He was alive. Ah, he was so alive.

The broken sob that suddenly left you was loud enough to make your friend shed his stupefaction and stride over to where you were. You barely managed to cover your face, between sobs, wails and disbelief, feeling your knees give out, surrendering to the weight of the pain, when his strong arms grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor. Preventing your fall, as you had wished so many times before.

You cried against his shoulder, when feeling him against your body you knew there was no doubt it was true. You moved your hands away from your face, wrapping them around his waist as tightly and lovingly as you hadn't hugged anyone in so long. Surely the last time you hugged someone like that was when you saw Peggy on your way back from Europe.

Steve wasn't far behind, his arms around your shoulders just as tightly, his chin against the crown of your head, moving from side to side trying to hold back the loud sobs that shook your body.

You couldn't believe it, but it was true, he was right in front of you.

Steve was alive. He had come back to your side. You didn't even want to ask why.

And there was nothing else you could think about for the rest of your life.

#stxrvel talks #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky barnes angst #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #the winter soldier #steve rogers

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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 1 year

Text

Demon Knight: Odel

[I plan on making a part 2, I just needed to write something, to begin with!]

Support me on Ko-fi!~ - Patreon

Part 1 | Part 2

Ad Laetitiam et Pacem

“It is set in ink. I will not hear anymore else of it,” your father, the King declared. “You will marry Lord Meriweather’s son by the arrival of spring.”

Perhaps in the hopes of pleasing your father, you would have heeded to words, to remain dutiful as princess of the realm and make your family proud.

That same night when you heard of your fate, you prepared to dress comfortably in a washerwoman’s ensemble, before slipping out the high window.

To hell with the arrangement, I would rather live a life of celibacy. This fate will not ruin my life.

The third daughter out of six and the eighth out of eleven living children, you had many brothers and sisters older that would be set for better matches from well-known lords and ladies. Yet, you were not put to become queen or to be married off to a wealthy lord, you were assigned to marry a minor lordling, his youngest son feeble and health ailing.

Of all the four sons of Lord Meriweather’s brood, you had to be matched with one with no proper destiny. Hugh was sickly and frail, not a knight or the heir to his father’s land, he was predestined to nothingness, and upon your first meeting with him, you snidely advised he was better suited to abstinence than to displeasing his future wife.

To your dissatisfaction, it had to be you that would be disappointed.

The moonlight acted as your only guide as you run blindly through the streets of the capital. Dead of life with only a few patrolling, you were able to squeeze into dark shadows, ducking and weaving before you found yourself on the outskirts of the capital. Its high, towering walls were manned, but you covered your face with your hood, ducking your head as you run out, away from the life you knew.

The adrenaline pumped swiftly in your chest, and a sense of freedom was overwhelming as the smile broadened on your face, racing your body as fast as you could through the woods.

Months of planning had come underway, and the only place you knew would be deserted; was Whitehaven Hold.

Your other option could’ve been to stay with your older sister, Alinor. Eight years your senior, she was married at eight-and-ten to a well-known and comely lord, giving him babes a year into their marriage.

Father will know I will go to her. You knew it would be a rooky mistake. He knew how much you loved your sister, how you missed her dearly after she was sent away to live the rest of her days in someone else’s castle.

Your older brother, Cassius was four-and-twenty, acting as a scholar in the south, but they did not accept women to the life of academics. No, it would’ve been harder to dress as a man to be accepted into his school.

It was a day or two away, and you spent your nights by a fire, rummaging for food and keeping what stale biscuits you hid in your dress pockets. You lay, wide awake, with no knowledge of where exactly you could go next.

The morning came easily when you arrived at the sight, a smouldering heat and smoke billowing from the mess in front of you.

Whitehaven Hold was a twisted, horrid sight. The battlements for a two-hundred-year war, its walls were burnt and destroyed, the stone had crumpled as it burnt and melted like candles, thousands burning inside. It acts as a haunted sight for travellers, with no Lord or Lady sane enough to reside there.

You entered through the battered doors, cold and damp easily enveloped you as you shuddered, looking around. It had been quickly looted of items by travellers, with not a sight of heirlooms or gold in sight. What remained was tattered and worn furniture, rooms dark and clammy and all the very same.

I’m not staying here before I lose my mind. You thought in disgust, but the thought of residing brought you to chuckle. The Lady of Whitehaven Hold- imagine the look on father’s face. It would not be good to stay a day or two before the cold enters your system and bring the chill quickly. It ached in your chest, not knowing where you could go next. South, always south. Away from it all.

The rooms were simple and easy to roam, a large, broken dining hall, fit for a Lord, wife and many heirs, its kitchen located on the far side. The table was battered and disarrayed, little to nothing scattered that remained of contents of food and dirt. You continued, walking past the cold entrance, up towards what remained of the grand staircase.

Spotting at the very top, are three displays of suits of armour, posing in similar positions. Their hands were positioned to have a greatsword in their hands, but only one remained in the grasp, the one in the middle.

You observed its armour, shinier and similar to molten black obsidian, it gleamed as if recently polished. You flicked your finger across the armour, its armour hummed low as you dragged across its armour to inspect for dirt.

“Hmph, just as I thought. A collectable.” You scoffed, wiping the grime from your finger as you stared up into its helm. The helmet was a beautiful display, gleaming in brilliance, except when you looked into the eyeless sockets of its eyes, something was not supposed to be there.

Eyes staring back. Alit with burning, enraged flames.

“There is little of me that I would class as a collectable,” a low, rumbling voice boomed, startling you rigid. You stepped back, towards the staircase, watching in horror. The talon-like fingers twitched momentarily, before another jolted with life, the whole hand was soon moving with existence.

The suit of armour slowly and lazily tested its movements, its long leg swung forward, groaning and choking as the armour moved. His fiery stare was towards you, raging with anger. “You are not meant to be here. You are trespassing.”

“No one lives here.”

“The Lord of Whitehaven Hold resides here, and I must protect my Lord from all.”

To your surprise, his fingers jerked to grip the hilt of his deadly sword tighter, a flash of silver startled you as he unsheathed the mighty weapon, before you were staggering, sprinting back down the stairs, hearing the squeaks of worn armour following hotly behind.

Leaving through the front door was an easier move, but with adrenaline pumping quickly in your chest. You stumbled and fell, your body kicking to keep moving, to hide, to do anything to get away from the deadly sword.

Something swung just behind you, a scream bubbling over you as his sword got caught into the wall, clinging with a hiss as it hit the wall and avoid taking a chunk out of you. You continued to run, in hopes you could find anywhere to hide, but no matter, the knight was hot on your tail.

You swept around the table, the knight rounding the other side, eyes flaming with the sword ready to swing before something caught his eye, something behind you. His sword lowered as he took in the damaged painting behind you, and you too turned to see what it was he was looking over.

The painting was of no doubt, the old Lord of Whitehaven Hold, yet he had been the first and last during the two-hundred-year war, murdered by conspirators who took over his castle after their coup.

There was a sadness that filled the knight’s eyes, lowering his sword, his entire demeanour changed to become defeated. “He’s gone?” His voice was gravelly and soft.

“He was murdered two-hundred years ago,” you spoke carefully, still gazing periodically towards the silver of his large sword. “There has not been another lord of this Hold since.”

The knight did not answer for a moment, looking at the painting with a solemn gaze that was so vivid without seeing the rest of his face. “Oh,” was the only word he spoke, before he sheathed his sword, marching back and away from the hall, back up towards the stairs.

“Hey, where are you going?” You stared in disbelief, uneasily tailing behind him a few feet. You watched how he climbed the stairs stiffly, moving back towards his display.

“I am no longer needed,” he spoke quietly. “I am free from my pact.”

“Pact from what?”

“The pact grants anyone who rules this hold the protection and my sword.” He moved towards to set himself in his display once more, propping the sword out to rest between his hands once more. You were by the bottom of the stairs, cautiously standing there. “I am no longer needed.”

Your cheeks heated the same way a child would grow in a tantrum. “Well, what if I became the next resident?”

His eyes peered over you, wide and in incredulously. “You’re a mere washerwoman.”

You remembered your clothing, the ones you snuck out in, and you knew you had no way of making him believe you. “Would you believe me if I said I was a Princess—and runaway one?”

He scoffed light-heartedly. “You’re rather funny, aren’t you?”

“I am!” You insisted. “My father is the current King, Cassius XV. My oldest brother is Crown Prince Isolde. My mother, Queen Adora, was forty when she passed, giving birth to my youngest sister, Margarita.” You told him your name, the one you despised using.

He did not answer once again, yet he seemed amused. “Anyone could know that of the current rulers.”

“I can read that,” you pointed towards the small display name, written in the old language of Ald, passed down to royalty and nobles to keep alive. “Would a washerwoman know about the culture and language of Ald? Would a washerwoman even know how to read?”

“Maybe so,” he assessed warily. “What is a princess like yourself doing out here?”

“My father wished to have me married off.”

He inquired amusedly. “You ran away from your betrothal? I don’t think I’ve heard of such a thing before.”

“You don’t know many princesses.” You muttered.

“Perhaps,” he mused. “It is known many Princesses of the past have been fond of comely knights and princes from far lands. It would be their dream to be married off.”

“Hugh Meriweather looks more weasel than man.”

The knight looked perplexed, but he did chuckle at your words. “Weasel, you say? I’m unsure there is some tale of a Princess and a weasel.”

Fairy tales are nightmares in reality. Just stories to keep girls happy. You thought. “It isn’t some fairy tale. I have no say in who I can love.” You huffed, crossing your arms. “That is why I’m here. Running away from the fate destined for me; misery, squeezing out babes and dying from childbed fever. You wouldn’t have to worry about being wedded off, you’re just a piece of talking armour.”

The silence that followed your passing words made you realise that you may have overstepped. You peered over at him, and though his face was shielded, you could tell your words had insulted him.

“You’re talking to a piece of talking armour.” He jeered and your cheeks had rouged once more in embarrassment. “What then, little Princess? You believe your father would not find you here?”

“He can sure try to.” You huffed. “I will not leave here.”

If he had eyebrows, you could be sure he had a face of exasperation. “You think you’ll have protection here?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re here.”

“I’m free from my pact, however.” He recalled.

“What about forming a pact with me? It can’t be that bad.” You said excitedly, too naively to think anything of it. You’ve had knights in service of protecting you your entire life: how different could this be?

“Princess,” his voice was laced with unease. “If you go ahead with this, you will need to sacrifice something of your life.”

Your silence was a tell-tell sign that you were uncertain. Sacrifice something, like what? You thought about the things you had to you: you had no titles to own, no claim to the throne, so you couldn’t give that up (you doubted you would’ve if you did own one). It seemed like an easy deal, yet nothing came to mind for you to give in return, until—

“I shall give you my hand in marriage.”

The knight recoiled almost as if he had been burnt in his ink-black armour, his demeanour changed to seem hesitant, almost incredulous to your offer. “What about Hugh the weasel? You don’t think I’m a married man already?” He asked.

“You wouldn’t be here if you were already married now, would you? You would be with your lady wife.”

He seemed pleased by your words, stepping forth towards you, around the table, before he was standing in front of you. His full height towered easily over you, and you imagined what he looked like without the helmet on him.

“I, swear by my name and honour, to protect and keep you in my stay, for as long as you may live. I am yours, Princess," he says. "I will shield your back and give you my life in the moment of need.”

You easily presented your hand to him to take into his, there was warmth oddly in his armoured fingers, and his obsidian suit of armour hummed and almost felt as if it was burning up on the inside before the knight brought your hand to his lips to place a kiss to your knuckles.

“Arise, sir-“

“Odel. Sir Odel.”

#demon #demon oc #demon boyfriend #demon knight #princess reader #female reader #monster writing #itstheendofthegoddamnworld writes #demon monster #monster x reader #monster x human #monster lover

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fancyfeathers · 6 months

Text

Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Yandere Neuvillette x reader, songfic

part two to this post

There are two sides to this story and the next part will be written from Wriothesley’s darling’s perspective

“Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping

Oh, nothing you can take was ever worth keeping”

You listened your friend sing in the apartment above the shop you’ve been working at. You two were allowed to stay here as long as you two earned your share in the shop owner’s store, the shop owner was a kind old lady who was sympathetic to your situation. You were now run aways from you homeland, Fontaine who had made your way to the nation of Mondstadt in search of safety. Everyone was very kind, and you had already have made quick friends with many of the knights of the city and a strange bard who there was something off about but you couldn’t quite place it.

“Can't take my charm

Can't take my humor

Can't take my wealth

Cause it's just a rumor”

When you left Fontaine you had to leave much behind, only a few articles of clothing, a keepsake or two, and of course your friend was able to grab her guitar. She now played it after a long day’s work, a harsh and proud song, not that she had much pride left, neither of you did not after what happened. She tried for crimes she didn’t commit, a set up, and you jumping in after her, breaking her out before she was to be sent away. You did what you had to in order to survive and if that means leaving your entire lives behind, so be it.

“Nothing you can take was ever worth keeping

No, nothing you can take was ever worth keeping”

You stood up from your chair at the dining table and walked over to your friend you sat in the windowsill, singing and playing her guitar. The windowsill was wide enough for you both to sit down in it, you didn’t say anything and neither did she, only sang while you watched the streets of Mondstadt from the window as the sun set.

“Thinking you're so fine

Thinking you can have mine

Thinking you're in control

Thinking you'll change me, maybe rearrange me

Think again, if that's your goal”

You were in trouble with the law in Fontaine and here in Mondstadt perhaps illegally, neither of you really knew but you did know if that was the case surely Neuvillette and or Wriothesley would have tried something by now but everything was uncomfortably quiet, not even a peep from Fontaine. The silence was becoming unbearable but it was moments like this, sitting in the window with your friend that kept you sane. It felt like old times, just in a new home.

“Can't take my sass

Can't take my talking

You can kiss my ass

Then keep on walking”

Then there was a knock at your door, the guitar stopped. You stood up and walked over to open the door, and it was the shop owner, looking a bit shook up. “There is someone here to see you.” When you heard this your heart sank, the way she spoke, it couldn’t be one of the.knights. When Kaeya or Lisa stopped by she was always so cheerful about it, but now she looked terrified.

“Nothing you can take was ever worth keeping

Oh, nothing you can take was ever worth keeping”

You looked over at your friend and it looked like she was about to throw up, it seems you both knew who wished to see you two. Looking out the window you didn’t see any knights about the streets, keeping watch, so if you were to scream or something were to happen no one would hear you two. You stepped out of the room, leaving your friend in your guy’s apartment. You stepped down the stairs that lead into the shop on the first floor that was closed for the night. Sitting at one of the shop’s tables where you would serve coffee, tea, or some sort of sweet was a man. His gaze was fixed on the window that looked over the landscape of Mondstadt along with the setting sun. You slowly walked up to him, you were glad you couldn’t make eye contact because if you did you thought you may be sick.

“Nothing you can take me from me is worth dirt

Take it, 'cause I'd give it free

It won't hurt”

You stood in silence for a long moment before you finally spoke up, venom in your words. “Little strange that you came all the way here, Supreme Justice.”

He hummed in response, his eyes still stuck to the window. “I would have come sooner but I simply did not have the available time in my schedule.” His eyes drifted from the window to you, a thin smile forming on his face. “You pulled a very bold move coming here. It took almost a month to pinpoint exactly where you were.”

“Let me guess, you’re here to arrest us?” You questioned but Neuvillette only shook his head.

“No, not yet anyway. I have an offer, sit please.” He gestured to the seat across from him which you begrudgingly sat down in before he continued on. “If you come with me quietly, all charges of destruction of government property that you committed when breaking your friend out will be forgiven. You will be able to live a normal life as long as you don’t run off again. If you reject, I will have to file your crimes with the knights and you will eventually be returned to Fontaine and be placed under my custody as a criminal.”

“What of my friend? What will happen to her.” You asked, eyebrows knitted as you questioned him.

“There is nothing I can do about her, she has already been tried for her crimes, she will be taken to the Fortress of Meropide and placed under the custody of Wriothesley-“

“So either way she’s screwed over.” You huffed, your gaze going to look out the windows he was once looking at, refusing to make eye contact with the judge.

“The fortress is not absolutely horrible, besides I doubt that Wriothesley will treat her like the other criminals.”He spoke calmly like he has this entire conversation, meanwhile you could feel a fire brewing inside you.

You stood up from the table suddenly and gazed down at the Iudex of Fontaine with a look of pure anger. Before he could speak up to calm you down, reaching out to touch your hand, you swiftly stepped back, turning your back to him. “You may leave now, because my firm and final answer is no.” You made your way to the staircase and spoke without looking at him. “Have a safe trip back to Fontaine, alone.”

You left him sitting alone in the silence. Neuvillette sat for a long moment before reaching for his cane and his bag he brought with him. He reached into his bag and took out two files, seemed like he had a place he needed to stop by before leaving the city. Meanwhile you and your friend had to hit the road again and fast before you were wanted here as well, so much for the city of freedom.

“Nothing you can take was ever worth keeping

No, nothing you can take was ever worth keeping”

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette

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eldritch-spouse · 11 months

Text

[Part 8 of Gifted. Fem reader.]

Previous poll winner: Give yourself to Krulu (70.1%)

TW: Strong cultish themes; Macro/micro; Mindbreak; Squirting.

⋆✩ You've reached the end of the run ✩⋆

It's not much of a choice, is it?

If you wanted the easy way out, you could have taken it at several instances by now. Picked someone who was likely to bludgeon you, get on everyone's nerves... You're sure you could have gotten killed in many situations. And perhaps even in a less traumatic way- At the hands of a sick monster, rather than the deity dwelling in this rotpit.

But you've lived this far, survived the menaces who got their grimy hands on you. Only to choose death now? No. No, that's hardly admissible.

You're going to buck till your last dying breath here. Or at least try to.

Summoning strength you don't have, unable to meet the god-entity's eyes, it takes far too long before you can croak out a response.

" I... Offer myself to you. "

The finality of your own words hits you like a train. This is definitely not the type of being that'll let you walk back on your decision, so you've laid down the foundations for your brand new future with that statement alone.

Whatever giving yourself to Krulu implies, you have just signed up for it, and now you'll deal with whatever comes forth. It was your choice. It was the fate you wrote, at least some solace will come from that reminder.

The charred giant squints at you, long and hard. You're not sure what he hopes to gleam behind your eyes. They say eyes are the window to the soul, maybe there's some actual merit to that, aside from mere romanticism and poetic frivolity. Does he hope to find a lie? Deceit? You're sure there's nothing to show but fear, resignation, confusion. Defeat.

" A wise answer. "

Is it really? You'd argue dying would be saner. But you've abandoned hopes of staying sane, you are now remaining alive out of spite. A stubborn bull's desire to have its way even as a torero stabs it time and time again. And the crowd cheers, hoping you'll fall.

When all points of contact are severed between you two and an oppressive silence settles easily, there's no clue as to what your next move should be, so you stand like a statue, risking only chaste glances at their figure.

That's... That's it? It can't be.

" It seems I will have to teach you everything. " The entity spits. " Just as I did with my vessel. I expect you to come out of this apt for service. So listen well, for every time I am made to repeat myself, you will suffer. "

Something behind you knocks harshly onto your back, sending you tumbling forward on the altar, hands and knees on enchanted marble. Your entire upper body throbs with pain and you attempt to wheeze some air in and out of your lungs.

The moment an attempt to sit up is made, a rough foot keeps you down. You're well aware he's not putting half of his weight on it.

" Your first lesson is humility. " Krulu begins. " You shall know your place here, profess yourself to me properly. If you fail to do such, I see no reason to spare your ego. "

You're sure he's not talking about your dignity and pride when he says "ego".

How does one "profess themselves" to a god? What does he want you to say? You take a moment to think about Admin's mannerisms. He clearly likes the woman, and she's visibly -Perhaps manically- devoted to him, so whatever she's doing must be adequate. You suppose you ought to copy the purple-clad woman.

A rising rumble from above lets you know time is of the essence. The weight of a clawed foot increases on you, staggeringly powerful as it forces you to curve further the longer you disappoint this entity. Words force themselves out before you can think too hard and risk being compressed into a sheet of paper.

" M- My lord...? I... I belong to you. " That does not sound natural at all. In fact, it's painfully uncomfortable.

A disinterested chuff reaches your ears after a measured pause. " You sound far from appreciative. I am not convinced of your candor. "

A confused, terrified mind runs a mile a second, trying to think of anything more adequate, more appeasing.

" Allow me to help motivate you. "

Within seconds, the strength on your back is so great that it becomes oppressive, hindering your capacity to breathe further. Something creaks within you, awakening a brand new level of desperation as you fight to get the right answer out before he can smash the means to do such with.

" Please! Please my lord- I'll do anything you ask of me, I'm humbled by your mercy- " You choke, trying to get air into your lungs. " I live to serve you! It's my role. I'm yours. Please spare me! "

And, almost mercifully, the weight recedes a good deal. " Better. Albeit sub-par. "

You aim to survive.

Words cannot begin to express the relief you feel at the loss of his strength on your figure, taking a pained, desperate inhale. As if they could decide to steal your breath away at any moment now. Krulu takes several steps back on the altar, and once more, you're not too sure what to do. Is this what it's like for her? Constantly having to guess what to do in order to please this entity? Having no guides or clues, just the whispers of flames and the ticking of an impatient clock counting the seconds to failure... You can't take that. You couldn't take that for an hour, much less a lifetime.

" But that is forgivable. "

He begins, after a long moment leaving you to your thoughts, it seems.

" The most important task your mouth must perform is pleasuring, after all. "

Something bitter curls in your stomach at that declaration. You chose this. It's this or dancing six feet below the ground.

The massive entity squats upon the marbled surface, easily keeping their balance, arms shifting this way and that as they think, eyes poised on you. Although Krulu is an admittedly gnarled creature far from easy on anyone's eyes, you can't help but think that, sometimes, the light bathes his figure in a manner that's almost soothing. An elegance he has no right to hold. His home is in the shadows, you can tell, but somehow, light gravitates towards him too.

What is a being like this doing here? On Earth. Who is he? What is he? How long has he been pacing in this cage of a building, like a hidden mole? Something in you insists he shouldn't be here, and it's not just animal instinct, it's a... Warning, an idea that crawls to the forefront of your mind, as if you've always known it. He wouldn't be here if he didn't have to.

It's not pity that you feel for this immeasurably powerful being, but something like confusion. For a moment, you see a wounded animal limping on the side of the road after trying to hunt something much greater than itself. It's nature, in a way.

He must have caught that image in the reflection of your eyes, because the way his frown deepens into a scalding snarl has you instantly cowering like a leaf in the wind.

" Come. " They begin, causing your heart to leap into your throat. " Your first trial greets you. "

First trial...? Him? Before you have the chance to utter a single thing, Krulu raises a finger.

" Remember this. All you do is only ever permitted. "

Brows furrowing in an attempt to make sense of his riddle-like wording, you ultimately opt not to spend too much time standing around like an idiot and begin awkwardly closing the distance.

On the second step, something unseen and long bats itself onto the floor hard enough to make the ground shake violently. You fall onto your ass with a pained grunt, horrified and further confused.

" Must I open those ears? " He sneers, a pair of long arms crossed over his chest.

" N- No! I'm sorry- " Palms show in what you hope might placate the being. He's not stomping after you at least. That slitted stare is expectant however.

What does he want now? He said for you to approach, so what was so wrong there...?

All you do is only ever permitted.

Ah. Permission.

Doe eyes glance up. " May I walk towards you? " This sounds like a waste of time, frankly. But you have no idea how gods operate. Maybe this is standard etiquette for them.

His glare softens when you guess what to do correctly. " No. "

Uh. Okay.

" You may not. Crawl, like the worm you are. "

Sighing, you swallow the thoughts that second-guess your prior decision and lower to your hands and knees. The trek towards Krulu isn't long, but it manages to feel depressingly unflattering all the same.

You don't feel sexy or confident, just demeaned. This is not a place for confidence. It's hard to tell what his endgame here is.

" Enough. "

Cautious, your hands settle on your knees and you straighten up, awfully close to the large being's groin. Afraid even looking that way can incite their wrath, scared hues cast themselves to the candles again, trying to siphon that warmth.

The scream you let out once something grabs your whole head cuts off into a startled gasp as it's swiveled back to his likeness.

" On this altar, your eyes are to be fixed on me. "

" Y- Yes, lord. "

It seems the sooner you act accordingly, the faster he stops inducing fear on you, grip relenting.

Another standstill unfurls.

The persistent inability to know what to do next causes slight irritation to bud within you, but all he does is wave one hand dismissively, as if to tell you he's getting bored. To get on with it. You really hope that you didn't misinterpret it when he said "trial." You hope and pray you're not going to get ripped in two with these next words.

" May- " The hairs on your back stand and your voice escapes, defying your will, making you sincerely consider running from this creature. Even if it means certain death. " May I service you? " It comes out your mouth murmured, the death rattle of all dignity.

" Yess. "

With a gulp, you chance a glance at what you're working with, thanking the slight amount of illumination currently available. Like many other monsters you know of, at first glance, Krulu's pelvis appears barren of genital attributes. Though, given his size, it would be a bit hard to miss a thin seam of yellow where his slit parts slightly in this squatted position. Or is it just that he's already bothered? By you? No. No, there's no way...

So, a phallus at least. You're hoping. Who knows what the fuck could be in that pouch at this rate. But that's not the only thing you can see from this position. There's... Something moving below. With a confused squint, you tilt your head and note what appears to be two appendages parting ways like petals unfurling. More yellow reveals itself to you, two small and pointed growths curve forward. It takes you a moment to realize that you're looking at his strange, alien vulva.

Two sets. They really weren't kidding when they called this a "trial". Even when you scoot closer, the nervousness must be crawling all over your face, because he makes a comment.

" Explore. I will correct you. "

Far from reassuring. But then again, he must be incapable of such. Or just uncaring, that's more likely. What are you to him, if not the toy you agreed to be?

Well, time to be smart about things.

Time to set aside the mania in your brain telling you that you, a mere human, are going to engage sexually with a being whose oppressive totality you can't even comprehend, and focus on making things easier for you. Chances are that, taking this entity's magnificent size into account, avoiding his slit is a more intelligent choice. You don't need to be a scientist to know whatever's coming out of that will be scarily massive. Unmanageable perhaps. You're not looking forward to being literally impaled in an effort to appease a charred god.

Heading for his lower set is, by far, the safest bet.

Spreading your legs, your stature sinks further, and you can angle yourself to be mostly beneath his foreign pussy. The deity hums at your choice, adjusting their stance slightly, hips canting and arms moving to support his frame as it is ever so slightly presented to you. Behind him, a rough tail sways slowly, like the pendulum of a clock.

Given a much better look now, you realize that his labia are actually prehensile, moving every now and then. His vaginal opening doesn't seem to differ all that much from a human's in structure, at least outwardly, but what catches your attention is what must be his clitori. Two of them! That must make orgasms fun... They're large too, seeming to poke out their hood without difficulty, like thorns on a rose. For a pause, you're just observing him.

" Do you think it wise to test my patience at this moment? " He says in response to your mute awe.

" N-No! Forgive me, lord. " The fear response has kicked in more effectively, though it's not enough to drown your fascination. " ... You're beautiful. "

Krulu genuinely blinks in surprise. Subtle shock is replaced by a frown. A long finger dances under your chin, claw dragging on the fickle flesh, forcing you forward when it hooks upwards. " Pleasure, pet. Not flattery. "

Fair enough. You didn't mean to let that slip so easily.

Unsure how to go about this in a way that will please this being, whose sexual customs are vastly unknown, you figure starting timidly is smarter. Your hands lift, though the sharp glare you're given instantly make them dart to the marbled altar again.

" May-... May I use my hands? " Silence. " Please? "

" You may. "

At least that.

Tracing a slow path on the inside of this thighs, you edge upwards, marveling at the patterns engraved on the left one, scar tissue turned to infinite swirls. By the time you get to the inevitable, you begin by planting a kiss to the bottom of his entrance, trailing sloppy pecks upwards until your nose nudges against those two growths.

He looks down at you with an equally intense glare. Although where once it was filled with genuine irritation, now it's heated in a different way. No less intimidating however. A chuff is heard from above, those clits flex against the air in a motion that you find oddly erotic in spite of never having had contact with his species before.

A timid lap across the length of his opening is all you can manage to delay before focusing on those two. They look sensitive, they must be naturally, you fear too much direct stimulation can overwhelm him like it does some people. But it only takes a few experimental laps and kisses for him to "correct you". A palm drives your head harder against those buds, and he grinds on your face with a flex of long legs.

" I am not made of porcelain, lesser. "

" F- Forgive me- " Pressed against his cunt hard, all you can do is mumble the words onto it, face aflame. He seems to like the vibrations anyway.

" Take them into your mouth. "

Oh. Right, you can probably do that.

Circling one of their clits with a stubby tongue, you slip it into your warmth and, for lack of any guidance, suck on it cautiously. Krulu grunts something you can't interpret out, sighing when you pop it off your mouth to take care of the twin. With enough care, you manage to slip both in, sucking around the appendages, feeling them twitch on your tongue. It doesn't take long before he lets out a moan, this sound that seems to gently grace the walls, both high-pitched and low, as if two had reacted in unison.

It's a little hotter than it should be when he begins rolling against your mouth, almost causing you to bob. They taste of something intense, spreading an odd, nearly numbing tingle on your mouth. Something's popping in your tastebuds, bitter and sweet at different instances. It causes you to salivate excessively, drool trying its best to break down the complex substance you're coming in contact with. It's not an unpleasant flavor, so you find yourself easily suckling at him without a second thought.

The sound of faint dripping eventually breaks your focus.

You might be shamefully getting wet, but that's certainly not you. It takes a slight pause in your motions to incredulously peek down and spot his cunt clenching, empty, dripping slick in generous amounts. You hit the part of you that's drooling with a rolled up newspaper for being so impulsive. Still, when you quickly get back to servicing his clits, a stray hand coats itself in that viscous lubrication and you slip three fingers in without a hint of resistance. Then four. Honestly, you can slide your whole hand in there.

... Maybe you should?

Fuck it.

Your whole hand gets swallowed into Krulu's pussy, and while your eyes are wide in amusement, wondering if you could put your entire forearm in there, you're more focused in trying to find a spot to rub. It can't be that different from your anatomy, can it? You start palping and stroking with a purpose while slurping on him, determined to find that slightly ruggier tissue- Ah! There we are.

The higher arches, grunting, slipping more of your limb into himself with the jarring movement of his hips. It feels obscene, like you're fisting him. " Hhharder-! Harder, you hear me? "

He snarls, and like Hell you're going to risk unintentionally teasing him more. Your whole fucking palm rubs at what you think is his g-spot, feeling warm insides cling to your fingers, pulling you in with the force behind those reflexive pulses. Mesmerizing... This rolling rumble of a noise nearly shakes the walls, so you'll take it as a sign you're doing well. It's not too long before your arm is soaked by sloppy amounts of lubrication and your lips are puffed from sucking fattened clits. Krulu's sour disposition seems to be melting into a more tolerable demeanor, perhaps high on his enjoyment.

Better horny than angry, you guess.

More noises, this time from above, jolt your attention. Sensing movement, your eyes roam up to spot a sight that nearly makes you choke around the god's nubs. One hand coils over a glowing yellowed cock, shaped oddly just like the rest of him, some sections almost looking like rings. It strokes that length avidly, another hand from a different set of arms comes to rub circles around the head. He looks down at you lecherously, appearing to enjoy the show for a couple of heated moments where your gaze is locked on his and the massive being licks at their cruel grin.

When his head starts to tip upwards in the universal language of an approaching peak, Krulu drags you away from him by the neck, holding your pussy drool soaked face while the two of you catch your breath. The tingles on your tongue start to recede. The giant adjusts his position again, and this time, his massive cock faces you with a bob. Without extremities obscuring it, you can truly bask in its design, familiar, but so much better.

Your earlier point still stands however. There's absolutely no way in Heaven or Hell that cock is fitting anywhere inside you. Ever.

" Not as atrocious as I was expecting. But you are far from done, pet. "

Now curved forward, his great stature looms creepily. You don't see the nudge forward coming, nearly falling forth. Krulu makes an amused sort of titter.

" Resume. "

You almost don't want to crawl back towards him, but you know you need to tough through your own choice. He doesn't move a muscle, merely evaluating as you decide to start the same way you did with his cunt, kissing. One peck at the tip of his shaft, slicked by precum, then down the length you'll never take anywhere hopefully. It's admittedly impressive, the weight of it is such so that you require two hands to hold. And even then, you can't encompass his total girth. It's a beast of a cock, excusing the French.

Despite all odds, you try your best to do something that you think might pleasure him, struggling to jerk Krulu off. In fact, the motions are so clumsy that you believe he's purely just getting off on your pathetic attempts. Kitten licks are offered to a sensitive glans you can only suck at partially. The way those burning eyes shut just a bit further tells you he's at least taking enjoyment out of the whole thing.

It's still startling to feel something rough park at your bare pussy however. The rugged texture makes you believe it might be his tail for a second, but with the tapping of what can only be fingertips, you realize he's lowered a hand for you to sate yourself with. It rubs at your folds, spreading your own wetness and pressing knowingly over a bundle of nerves while you sigh around his girth.

" Are you daft? "

His voice isn't soothing at all. It's like... Wood bark in your ears, like branches snapping and scraping asphalt. You can only blink and gulp, befuddled.

" Fuck yourself on my fingers, you witless creature. "

That shouldn't have made your cunt clench the way it did. Though, at this point, you've stopped questioning why you're being aroused by gradually more obscene situations. In fact, enjoying this will make it a lot more bearable.

It's not too easy to multi-task, and given his impressive motor control of so many limbs, he must think your struggles are pitiful. Tentatively, you grind over his fingers, trying to slot them inside your warmth and getting struck by powerful shivers when he curls them helpfully. Thin and long, they slide into your walls with ease and reach places you've never been touched in before. Or maybe it's the way that he touches them. You have no doubt he could lift you by the cunt if he wanted to, and the bizarre thought has a quick moan making it past your lips, starting to roll into the friction with a little more gusto.

Krulu encourages you by hooking his phalange-like fingers, claws kept expertly folded. You feel your legs quaking and flexing in the wake of a god's touch, pleasure dawning upon you at a surprising rate. Although he's far from kind, far from safe, some itch in the back of your mind tells you to give in, to offer this entity your body and mind and all else they may crave of you. Because, somehow, someway, you understand that is your purpose. You understand you're looking at someone you should never defy and always, always seek to please.

He is your real God. And this is your new faith.

This sudden line of thought causes some genuine concern within you, as it's something completely out of left field. Never once have you felt so intensely about something. It must be his doing, it has to be. Ad yet, it feels right. Appropriate. Warming. You're not even aware your mouth is parted in silent bliss until Krulu appears to chuckle at your state.

" You will coat my hand in your effort to please me. And with your release, your role here is forever sealed. "

The hypnotizing finality of his statement is as striking as it is wonderfully arousing to you. Enough so that your heart cartwheels in your ribcage and your pace on his generous hand hastens. Maybe it won't even be so bad, you ponder while slicking his cock like a treat, you'd be protected, you wouldn't have to care about anything anymore. And you could get railed day and night by the monsters who lusted after you tonight, by the rest of them, the ones you can't help but fantasize about.

What would fucking the mimic be like? He deserves it for bringing you inside, for introducing you to your fate properly. And that slime, his kind has always exhibited such strange mating customs, how wild would things get? Oh, wasn't there a robot too? Your poor pussy drools as hard as your mouth does, each throbbing pulse of your walls hypnotically ebbing away your common sense. You're well aware pieces of your sanity have been chipping off like old pottery since the start of your contact with this god, but it doesn't feel as horrific as it should, it doesn't raise alarm or concern in you anymore.

Spiritualism isn't something you're very inclined to, but your mind tells you this is where you should be right now. And with that affirmation, everything seems to calmly slot into place again. Everything is as it should be.

" Y- Yes, my lord. "

Lashes flutter to a close briefly while you do your damndest to try to offer the deity more pleasure, unable to welcome him into your comparatively minuscule mouth. He grows fevered, legs shifting to feed more of himself into your grasp, likely frustrated by his mounting need, or perhaps being rough just for the sake of it. A jut of dark hips has that bright yellow length gliding on the side of your face in a debauched gesture that has you wondering if he could climax by simply grinding on your complexion. Eventually, slick, swift noises reach you, and judging by his moaning pants, you can only guess he's fingering himself to the scene.

Morbid curiosity has you peeking, the rhythmic plunging of equally dark digits into his sopping cunt confirming it. When you look back up, Krulu offers you a salacious rictus before thrusting hard, mean, just to jostle you.

" Lord- Lord Krulu- I'm doing my best, but I... I just can't fit you anywhere. I'm sorry- "

" Is it so? " The giant muses knowingly. " Well lesser, you will have to find a way to make me come somehow. Surprise me. "

Mind racing, you halt your motions on the now static hand between your legs, trying to figure something worth his time. A rotten little image finally surfaces, and you hope your filthy mind won't fail you now, of all times.

" Can... Can you please lower a bit more, Lordship? "

Krulu tilts their head subtly, elegant horns following, though your wish is granted. And so, you quickly scoot to be further beneath him, enough so that his heavy member rests on your front, from abdomen to chest and neck. The weight and warmth of it against your bare skin is a previously unknown sensation that you think you can get accustomed to, hands lifting to try to stimulate him in some manner, even pressing your breasts against him to whatever extent you can.

If he didn't think you were pitiful, he does now- Face flushed and dripping down his fingers, presenting yourself like some inanimate object to rut onto.

" Interesting... " He muses, and you can't be too sure if that's approval or an insult.

For some reason or another, the charred giant plays along, leaning forward to let himself grind against your body, each rock unavoidably powerful and gradually wetting you in his precum, a primitive marking ritual if there ever was one. Each back and forth has your face hotter than a furnace as you try, almost pointlessly, to lick at the end of him whenever it's close enough, oftentimes graced with a sloppy nudge against your cheek and mean-sounding chuckling from above.

Distantly, you wonder if this is what Admin goes through regularly. She's clearly his favorite, maybe this is a daily thing for them. It's easy to understand why her reverence of this being is so genuine and unbreakable. You can't help think that you'd be drawn here anyway, sooner or later.

Nothing matters anymore except doing as you're told, shuddering out moans and trying your best, apparently doing enough to warrant a reward as Krulu begins plunging his digits into you faster and harder than you've ever been fingered before, having tears prick at the corners of your eyes as it feels like he's fucking you himself in spite of being currently held between your breasts and arms. There's no mistaking the growls that dip into snarls low enough to rattle you, felt between every point of contact you have, rippling on your form, only speeding up your own approaching end.

Unable to squirm away from the relentless finger-fucking, it's all too soon before you're taken to the edge and near effortlessly tipped into a raging orgasm. Although it surprises you enough to let out a scream-like cry of ecstasy, you soon realize you're dealing with a god. He could probably kill you from orgasmic bliss alone if he wanted to. And you definitely feel something in your mind short-circuit, vision blurring with each pulse of a throbbing cunt around speedy, thin extremities. You're faintly aware of the fact that you just gushed onto Krulu's hand. Though neither of you are very concerned with that, you only struggle to breathe in the wake of growing overstimulation, arms now limp and body nearly falling back from how tensely it arches.

This feels like more than just an orgasm, if that's even possible.

Your lord detaches himself from your figure entirely, leaving a sweaty, goosebump-covered body to heave and sway, nipples as pert as the still twitching clit between your jelly-like legs. It's increasingly hard to focus on anything but the soft murmuring of the candles and the way light flickers off tapestry, but you register the motion of your head being yanked upwards to face Krulu while he rises to pump himself over you feverishly.

The erotic bucking of his hips into several pairs of lewdly moving hands over his own cock is hypnotizing. You can't help but watch his face keep contorting into different expressions of equally intense pleasure, until, all of a sudden, he makes a sound you can only call a roar. Loud and throaty and self-indulgent, reverberating in the very depths of your soul and rattling your skull with its volume.

The first splatter of cum on your body is jarring, eliciting a startled yelp followed by a heated groan when it's followed by more and more shots, all thick coats of Krulu's enjoyment of you. His approval of a brand new servant. Their seed all but leaves no part of you untouched, wide eyes having to shut themselves so as to not get pelted in the process. You can't help gasping and moaning like an animal at the sensation. Globs cascade down your belly and slide across your entrance. There's little else your boiled mind can do aside from merely pant and remain still like a depraved figurine covered in pearly white wax.

" Welcome to The Clergy's Eye, my present. "

Is the last thing you're able to coherently interpret before your mind starts distorting things again.

In between the following moments, could have been seconds or hours for all you'll ever know, you recall the image of a somewhat concerned and agitated green man with a pumpkin for a head looking you over. He murmured something fogged and unintelligible to your drunken self and seemed to carry you elsewhere in a hurry, much too fast for your muddled thought process and reflexes.

The glow of the elevator hurts your eyes.

The ballerina spins slowly on top of her stage, a soft, cheerful tune ringing across paint-splattered orange walls, the sound of rain softly cascading outside adding a homely element to things.

You sigh, comforted, leaning into Vinnel's gloved motions as he ties pink lace around your neck and forms a ribbon on the back. His gurgled hums fall in tune with the melody and he appears to be genuinely content. He always is when he gets to dress you up, it's become a beloved part of his routine.

" There we are, my pretty poppet! Do a spin for me! " The jester suddenly peels back, twirling in the air.

You stand in the frilled pink and white dress outfit he spent the better part of an hour perfecting, feeling gorgeous, softly painted cheeks rising and creasing the corners of your eyes when you smile for him. Grabbing the hem of your dress, you spin twice and feel warm at his exaggerated reaction.

" Uhuhuhuhu! Showstopping! Brilliant! " Vinnel titters, clapping enthusiastically before landing on the ground of his room to lightly boop you on the nose. " You're ready to head out then, missus. "

" Thank you, Vinnel. " And even though you sound perfectly innocent, when you hug him, one of your hands drifts down to palm at the heart shape on his groin, rewarded with a husky growl.

" Go on now, poppet. It's too early for games, you little slut. " He muses, stepping away to open the main door in his room so the two of you can head out.

Today, Admin requested to have breakfast with you, so you dutifully get on the elevator and head to the restaurant floor, finding the woman already seated in a pristine table, waving you over. Your feet quickly trot you over to her, sitting obediently and greeting your superior.

" Well well, look at our little model today. " She teases.

" Ah, thank you! Vinnel outdid himself. "

" Certainly. This is much more palatable than the bruises he likes to put on you usually. " You have to agree with her here, some spots of your body are still sore where he clawed at days ago.

Grimbly eventually zooms his way to the two of you with a tray containing your breakfast. A variety of pastries deposited on your side while Admin seemed to only want her coffee, always a shade of black so intense that it made it look as if she was drinking a void. The waiter wags his tail and beams at you, placing a sweet kiss to your cheek and cooing at your look before being waved away by the brunette.

" How do you feel about your stay here so far? Correct me if I'm wrong, but you didn't appear to regret your decision. " She sips from the steaming cup.

The answer is almost automatic.

" O-Oh, it's been really nice! Everyone wants me here so much, I... I like all my coworkers, it really feels like home. " You confess, feeling a tad sheepish but standing by your words. " I can't describe how fulfilled I am nowadays. I'm happy when... Everyone's happy. It's hard to explain but I really feel like I've gained- "

" Purpose? "

You pause. Yeah. That's precisely the word. How come she's always so right? " Exactly. "

Admin nods, a tiny smile on small lips. She got whatever response she wanted out of you, it appears.

" I'm glad we see things similarly. " Her eyes unfocus, following the swirl of her bottomless coffee cup as if it calls to her sweetly. " It's... Nice, having a human acquaintance here. " It's said with a hint of shock, as if the revelation surprised even her.

You can't help but preen under the praise, offering the woman one of your palmiers. She declines politely, and it's when you return to staring at your plates that you finally see the little note attached to one of them.

Good morning, love. I'll see you soon, hopefully.

A small series of scribbled hearts circle the message, you know exactly who it's from.

" Santi. "

There's a hum from the brunette in front of you. " Mhm, he paid for those. "

" Aw... That's really sweet of him. " Truly, he's always been a sweetheart, since the very start of all this, however long ago that was. Time is barely a concern for you anymore.

" Sometimes he still gloats about being the first you chose, you know? " She grins for a short second. " I think you inflated his ego forever. "

The knowledge makes you actually burst out laughing for a few hearty second where the sound echoes off the vastly empty restaurant. That's adorable, honestly.

" Oh , he might just become my favorite if he keeps buying me treats like this. " A joke you know, had you said it to the rest of them, an argument would instantly break out.

" Why shouldn't he treat you a little today? " Admin's brow rises, head tilted in that way that almost reminds you of Krulu, when he's more comfortable. Still, she knows something you don't, causing you to blink and sit there like a dumbfounded donkey.

" ... You haven't put it together yet, have you? "

No. No, you haven't.

The chestnut-eyed woman crosses her legs and snickers quietly. A couple of seconds pass where she expects you to make a sudden discovery, but the eureka moment isn't coming any time soon.

Finally, she takes mercy on you with a shake of the head. " It's been a year since you were gifted to us. "

...

A year. Has it been that long already? It felt like a miserable few months, if that much. Everything is just so fast here, it really does feel like yesterday when you were screaming at Hellion and Pebble in the garden.

Has it really been that long since you left everything behind?

Strangely enough, bits and pieces of your life before becoming a part of The Clergy are becoming harder to recall in clear detail, faces blur and places become nameless. You don't know what you used to do for a living, or what your routine is. Where did you even live? It doesn't sound important anymore. It isn't.

You're exactly where you should be.

Suddenly, the seat you're currently on ripples and shifts bizarrely, a vibrating purr-like noise spreading across your legs as the chair appears to grow a discolored grayish set of shackled arms and grasps your stocking-clad thighs with them, something wet and slimy brushes against your ankles. The mimic relishes your startled yelp and only holds onto you harder, tittering at having fooled you efficiently. That goofy bastard.

" Hm, they're going to be all over you today... " She sighs like a disappointed babysitter.

" Get ready. "

#Krulu oc #Vinnel oc #Sybastian oc #terato #monster x reader #monsterfucker #monster smut #terat0philliac #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #Gifted🎀

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xoxomoonlightxoxo · 5 months

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Don't Get Attached | Part 4

➪ Playlist (Spotify)

➪ Warning: 18+

➪ W/c: 867

Do You Miss This?

Once the elevator doors open Jungkook's grip on my waist tightens as I stumble in my 4-inch heels letting out soft whines of annoyance. My feet are dead and so is my dignity as the alcohol finally begins to wear out of my system. Did we just leave the club to go back to his apartment? Maybe. But, please, Jinni was just as checked out as I was and there’s no way in hell Jungkook would have left me alone in this state.

So, I push his hands off of me and run through the corridor, abruptly stopping at his front door before placing a few knocks. Looking back at his confused face, I notice his little eyebrow raise.

“What are you doing?” he whispers, careful not to wake the rest of the sane neighbours around us.

“Giving your women some time to hide,” I say with a teasing smirk in reference to his little cheating scandal. Unfortunately, though, my victory is short-lived as he lifts my body over his shoulder, hushing the helpless yelps.

“Get in, you smartass,” he chuckles, placing a smack on my ass as his grip on my legs tightens. Inches away from his own ass I protest, demanding to be put back down before threatening to let the whole apartment floor know of his doing. Ignoring my weak hits on his back, he walks us to his bedroom, finally placing my body on the soft duvet.

“Wait here,” he says, heading to his closet for a quick outfit change. Grabbing an extra shirt, Jungkook kneels in front of me before placing it on my exposed thighs. Resting his chin on the soft fabric his hands caress my pale skin as his gaze stays focused on my pouty lips.

“Koo … I need to shower,” I whine, lowering my eyes.

“Ok, let's go shower,” he answers enthusiastically, lifting himself back on his feet before reaching for my arms.

“No, not together,” I scoff, watching the smile on his face fade as a small chuckle escapes my mouth. Helping me up, his hands now rest on my back as we make our way to the bathroom. Finding the zipper to my dress, he is gentle with his touch, trying to respect the set boundaries without giving in to his desires.

“Don't leave,” I say softly, feeling his eyes on my naked body.

“So, you won't allow me to shower with you but you will torture me by showering in front of me? Got it,” he replies, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Well, what if I fall? Just keep your lips zipped and don't watch,” I snap, turning on the hot water. Doing the exact opposite of what I asked, Jungkook plops himself on the countertop before focusing his darkened orbs on my form. Tilting his head, his eyes pierce through the steamed glass wall, following my every move.

“Shoot, I don’t have a towel. Koo, can you please bring me one?” I say, squeezing the water out of my hair before reaching my hand out for Jungkook's delivery. Except, instead of simply handing the towel over, he gently pulls my arm towards his body wrapping my form with the soft fabric. As my hands rested on his chest, the space between us became no longer apparent. Caught off guard I look up with furrowed eyebrows, noticing his heavy gaze on my lips. Caressing my flushed cheek with his thumb, his grip on my waist tightens, pulling us even closer.

“I miss you, y/n”

“What do you miss, hmm?”

“I miss your pretty mouth,” he whispers, voice all raspy, leaning in closer to meet my eyes before placing a kiss on my parted lips. Fuck. Stay calm, y/n.

“That’s too bad, I didn’t miss you at all,” I say, intertwining my hands in his soft hair.

“Yeah?” he smirks, nibbling on his lip rings as his eyes lower to my breasts which are pressing on his now wet shirt.

“Mmhmm,”

“Do you miss this?” he says softly, lifting my body onto the countertop before coming in closer as my legs naturally spread following his touch. Dropping the useless towel on the floor, his fingers trace soft lines down my form as he kneels in front of me. Licking his lips, he takes a moment to appreciate the beautiful mess.

“Because I do,” Jungkook grins, looking up one last time before placing a trail of kisses on my thighs, inching closer towards my wet core. Letting out soft whimpers, my hands pull on his hair from the feeling of his tongue, while sinful sensations travel through my body. Each lick is needy and full of desire.

“Koo, please,” I manage to let out as my breath hitched in my throat. Raising his heavy gaze, he leaves one last kiss on my throbbing core before getting back up. Using his thumb to wipe the juices running down his lips, he prompts my mouth to open. Looking at his darkened orbs I do as he wants, sucking every last bit as the tension between us becomes almost suffocating.

“It’s a pleasure to taste you, y/n” he whispers into my ear, nibbling on the soft skin.

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your-average-yandere-lover · 2 months

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14 𝓓𝓪𝔂’𝓼 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓡𝓮𝓷/𝓡𝓮𝓭𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓷’𝓼

Things I genuinely think Ren-Ren and Redacted would do, because they live rent free in my mind. Did I get the both of them a little mixed up a bit; probably. Yandere and slight NSFW Content trigger warning! ૮‪ ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ ა

18+ Content; Minors Do Not Interact

❥ Much like your blow up mattress in the closet, Ren/Redacted would tamper with anyting that insensitive’s having guests over. You bought travel sized soap’s for guest’s to use when they come over? Really? Are you sure? No you didn't—the products aren't where you would have put them so maybe it was all part of your imagination; maybe you used them.

❥ However that being said, if you have a chalk board and write a cute little ‘welcome’ message on it, he wouldn't tamper with it, despite the message being for guests. Instead he'd pretend you wrote it especially for him, and stare at if for a couple minutes after walking in; your hand writing is too cute to look away!!! although if you happened to have a generic target welcome sign, he’d snag it or make it look like it fell super hard on the floor so it’s ruined. The apartment building you’re in has plenty of issues so maybe the rats climbed the table and knocked it off—if this happens you should really give that landlord a piece of your mind! Or move in with Ren/Redacted.

❥ Prior to meeting Redacted’s Ren persona, Leon invited you out to the beach. You were so excited to see your childhood friend again after all the time you spent apart; you even bought a new swim suit. You set the folded suit nice and neat on your living room table, ensuring nothing would happen to it. However when you woke up the suit had somehow ripped and your bottoms wouldn't stay on… you couldn't necessarily surf commando and considering how much money the suit put you out, you decided to call it, giving Leon a quick text. It had to be those damn rats again!

❥ If you like to bake—whether you’re good or not, you notice that anything you leave out has little indents, as if you unconsciously bumped the cake or knocked it with a butter knife while applying the finishing touches. Guaranteed Redacted and Ren both straight up ran a finger along side it like a kid at a birthday party who can't have a piece yet. Every time you leave something out, Ren/Redacted deeply contemplates how much they can take before you notice. They would definitely make it look like it fell off the table after having a piece— if they knew it wouldn’t upset you. Most always they stops themselves from destroying the baked good because it’s something their Angle made, with love! When they think about how they just tasted something made with your love, their brain goes haywire with scenarios of you baking together.

❥ Your perfumes have been draining so quick lately, to the point in which you wondered if all of Conan bay could smell you when you walked outside. Honestly, were you using that much? No, Redacted plays smarter not harder. He popped off at his nearest Ulta and bought an empty perfume sample vial, and the exact same perfume; now I know what you're thinking. If he already has the same perfume, why would he buy the sample vial? Because it just hits different when it's from ‘Your’ perfume. It's because ‘You’ own and use the perfume in your bathroom, and on top of that he gets to sneak the new perfume into your bag or your apartment after you’ve gone shopping, so you think you bought it—unknowingly accepting his gift. Drives the dude crazy. Made every awkward glance at ulta worth it.

❥ After you start ‘dating’ Ren because he declared it so, you might have the common thought to buy him a gift; what sane partner doesn't wanna put a smile on their own partner face? Did you get him a little pink cactus to put by his computer because it’s also pink and fluffy? A cutsie light up keyboard? A mug? don’t come for me :(；ﾞﾟ'ωﾟ'): Bet you thought you hid it well or that if you bought it while out with him, he never noticed; ya’ wrong. Ren and Redacted both notice everything their Angle does. There is only Angle. Ren had a hunch, Redacted was just pretending to be blissfully unaware but, once you give it to him, he’ll drop hints that he knew.

❥ At some point you invite Ren/Redacted over only to find that the heater isn’t working. Every time you set it to 72, ten minutes later it drops down to 62. Luckily Ren/Redacted was there to warm you up. Ren would be more passive and wait for you to say you were cold but if you took to long he’d drop some obvious hints that he was cold even though he was in fact not cold. He was the one who was playing with the thermostat after all. This Man just wants some cuddles. Whilst I think Redacted would be adamant about wanting to keep his Angle warm (Even if angle isn’t actually cold)—maybe a bit too adamant if consensual. Even so, if cold really bum’s Angle out he would probably have never messed with the temperature in the first place or he would fix it immediately to look like he was useful around the house; to impress angle of course. He would also try this but uno reversed; it would be 84 degrees up in your Livin’ room.

❥ If you didn’t drink to much while on a dinner date, Ren might pretend to be tipsy so he can have the excuse of leaning on you as you help him get home. Ren wouldn’t want you to be tipsy when he tried this because if you were under the influence, he’d want you to feel safe with him. However Redacted can hold it, despite no confirmation of his experience with alcohol, I strongly feel he can hold it. But honestly, if he can’t he wouldn’t allow himself to get drunk in the first place because he has to protect Angle. If Angle gets drunk Redacted would politely interrogate ask her questions that she probably wouldn’t answer sober, nothing too invasive that would push any boundaries or disrespect Angle—like skeletons in the closet/ deeply personal things, no. He respect’s Angle (in a weird and confusing way) and would never manipulate her into opening up while under any influence; he wants Angle to open up to him authentically on their own timing. Instead he’d ask things like “Is (f/c) honestly your favorite color?Because I saw you eyeing that blue shirt yesterday.” Or “Did you really like the song I played you yesterday on the guitar or were you being nice to me?”

❥ Redacted would straight up send your favorite band money anonymously so they’d show up and have a free concert on the beach. This man would stop at no cost to bring your favorite band to Conan bay, well he’d have to play smart if it got too expensive; if he had to use alternative methods, he would—seeing he is a hacker after all. He would invite you the moment after the band agrees because he ‘happens’ to like the band too.

❥ If you have toys Ren/Redacted would dis them while having sex. This dude would absolutely bully an inanimate object. Rens babbles would be more so focused on how great he was making you feel and how much more attention he could pay you then silicone. Redacted however would go off on how horrible that toy was because it wasn’t filling you the way you needed it, Or how your vibrator was trash compared to his hands. They’d both point out that silicone can cum in you…like, why keep it around when you have them?

❥ You want to go for a hike? Ren would be beyond excited to go on a hike with you…All alone…With no body else for miles because he would take you on a detour away from the main trail. A detour he happens to know well since he uses it to dump ‘garbage’ in lake Blue moss. As happy as Ren would be about hiking, he would become fed up with the mosquitos feeding on his Angle—homie was ready to google how to bite mosquitos back. Like damn, go suck on a bear or something. If you invited Redacted on a hike instead of Ren they’d straight up pull the bug spray out and launch a mosquito genocide, a bug that hurts Angle is a bug that shouldn’t exist.

#14 days with you #14dwy #14dwy ren #14dwy redacted #can’t not think about Ren-Ren!!!(;*— v —*)

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