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bennyden · 3 months

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User hamatoanne's fic plagiarism

Hello, I’m the author of The Android, an AO3 Robot OC x Reader fic that was plagiarized by hamatoanne on Tumblr in her Aemond x Reader story, System Error. You can read my AO3 post for more info about the issue. As you can tell by the timestamps on AO3 and the screenshots of her now-deleted story, mine was posted months before hers. I didn’t want to make this public, but it appears Anne has not learned her lesson and is grasping at straws to keep her readers in the dark. She’s been deleting her stories to hide evidence of her plagiarism. I think you deserve to know who your beloved writer gets her words from.

I don’t know this fandom, but I’ve heard you guys can get pretty crazy. Control yourselves. The only one who needs to take responsibility is Anne. Don’t send hate to her mutuals. Don’t send hate to her followers. Don’t stalk or harass or dox anyone. Read through this post and form your opinion.

First bunch of screenshots: A side-by-side comparison of her story (now deleted) and mine (still up and linked above). I took screenshots in advance in case something like this happened so I’d have proof if I needed it. I decided to compare the first chapter of my fic with the first part of hers. I could do the whole thing, but I’m a busy college student and I think just a quick skim of the pictures below is enough for people to see the extent of her plagiarism.

I have screenshots of her entire post, but I don’t want to make this too long to scroll through and Tumblr posts cap at 30 pictures. I’m assuming some of you have already read her story multiple times, so you’re familiar with the words. If you haven’t, then I should warn you that the fic that she plagiarized is very not SFW. I’ll let you know where the not SFW content starts so you can skip it.

On the left is my story. On the right is what Anne posted (and took down).

Not SFW content starts here.

Not SFW content over.

Finally, I DM’ed her. This was just before I posted to The Android on AO3 about the situation. To summarize, I wrote about how I would go about the situation and how hurt I was about a bigger creator stealing from me. I admit, I was too kind and too much of a pushover. I just wanted things to go quietly. She later replied with this and deleted her fic immediately.

“I was completely stupid for not giving your credit” Why do they always play dumb? You copy that much and can’t even think to put my name there? You credit the artist but not the person who basically wrote your whole story? The story that gave you over 3k notes, so much more clout than any of your other stories has earned you? Total BS.

“I had every intention of giving credit where it was due…But I forgot” Right. Sure. Of course. If she felt guilty about plagiarizing, she would not be so shameless to accept praise like she did. I have examples of where she happily thanked people for complimenting "her work”, but didn’t want to bring other blogs into this, especially since they were none the wiser to her plagiarism. Ironically enough, someone even gifted her a badge for being a good writer the day she replied to my DM. She tagged that post “#a breath of fresh air on a horrible day”. I wonder why her day was horrible. Whoever gifted her that badge deserves their money back.

My thoughts when approaching her DMs were:

If she wants to keep up the story? Fine, just edit the post to say that it was heavily influenced by my story and leave a link to the original. I don’t mind. The readers will see that, click my story, compare the two, and think, “Hey, that’s not just inspiration! She plagiarized!” and her downfall would start from there without me having to do anything.

If she ignored me and didn’t fulfill that request, i would take matters into my own hands and expose her on her own post. Even more damaging.

In the end, she chose to delete the post entirely, getting rid of the evidence and her clout. I actually didn’t expect this outcome since I thought she’d like the clout too much, but I guess she decided this route would be the least damaging to her reputation. Everything was swept under the rug for now.

And like a fool, I said thanks and went on with my life. But I decided to keep track of her. Because while I was too cowardly to do anything, I knew there would always be someone in the crowd who would take action. And it seems like people did.

After reading the supportive comments from readers of my fic, I started to regret how lightly I handled it. I wanted to be mature even though I wanted her entire blog to fall and her reputation taken away. But I didn’t want to be a “bad person”. I wondered if I should keep pursuing the issue. I realized that my overly-people-pleasing behavior might lead her to continue her ways. I decided to speak out because others might’ve had their works taken by her and that my silence wasn’t helping.

Next is her post, now deleted (I wonder why), about how she’s been so sad and how she’s going to be deleting her old stories and starting over. I’m likely not the only one she’s plagiarized from if she’s deleting other stories. At the time, I only saw supportive replies and reblogs on it, but maybe she deleted it after people started calling her out? Idk.

She’s playing the victim game pretty hard. Acting as a kind underdog even though she’s the big creator who stole from a nobody like me. I know I said on my AO3 update that people shouldn’t send hate to her (and even censored her name after she deleted her story) but I guess I’m a little happy that people sought to call her out on her shit. I wish I was as brave.

Later, a nice person (we’ll call her Bob because she asked to remain anonymous) DM’ed me directly with a kind message. After seeing this, I decided I should take action and expose all of this since Anne obviously hasn’t learned and wants to keep it all hidden. Bob confirmed that I’m not the only victim of Anne’s plagiarism either.

Bob asked that I not use screenshots of our DM’s so here is a transcription of the important parts:

“Hey! I just found out that one of your fics had been plagiarized by someone in the HOTD community. First of all, I am tremendously sorry that happened…”

(For Bob’s privacy, I won’t explain her relation to Anne. Just know that Anne has refused to message her back).

“I definitely think you should make a blog post. with side by side comparison. I am still completely gobsmacked that she pilfered your entire story word for word and changed a few things. We found evidence that she had plagiarized multiple stories. Not just yours. We found out her mermaid!aemond fic was entirely stolen as well as a few others. She has quietly deleted them and hasn't spoken on them since.”

“We surmised that she takes ‘underrated’ fics from different fandoms and changes the name and that's it. It's almost like she believed that stealing from other fandoms was going to draw less attention than stealing directly from the HOTD fandom.”

So if you noticed that one of your favorite Aemond fics is gone, now you know why.

‘But benny, she still wrote her own sentences and just changed it around to fit aemond!’

Fanfiction is transformative. You know what the source material is and who created it. You know you’re not reading a copied and pasted text with maybe some words and sentences switched around. This wasn’t fanfic. According to Google, plagiarism is defined as, “the practice of taking someone else's work or ideas and passing them off as one's own.” (See what I did there? I credited Google. Is it so hard to give credit where credit is due?) She copied people's work, didn't give credit to the source material, and claimed it as her own. That's plagiarism.

I wouldn’t have had a problem if she properly credited me and linked the original story. I wouldn’t have had a problem if she didn’t blatantly copy and paste the entire text and premise. I wouldn’t even require getting permission to write a story based on my fic if she had satisfied those conditions.

She’s a 27-year-old grown-ass woman with enough free time to simp over some blond guy with an eyepatch. I’m a 21-year-old college student who only posts fics during the summer and winter because that’s when school’s on break. I’m too busy writing lab reports and essays to be an active writer online. The fact that she can disrespect smaller writers so tremendously should not be acceptable. The fact that she also deceived her devoted readers and friends about her "works" is also unacceptable.

What can you do about this? To be honest, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never had to deal with this before. I want to be a good person and say, “Don’t send any hate to Anne, don’t harass her. Just unfollow her and stop supporting her.” But that obviously hasn’t taught her anything. She’ll just make a half-assed apology, maybe go on hiatus, maybe disappear, and then pop up again under another name to steal from another creator. If you have any ideas on how to deal with this, please tell us.

She can try to block me or delete her posts, but the evidence is out and the damage is done. Anything she does to hide this mess will only make it worse for her. I’d appreciate people bringing more awareness to this issue, especially if it can reach the eyes of others she’s taken from.

Thanks for reading.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #reader fanfiction #prince aemond #plagiarism #android x reader #robot x reader #ao3 #aemond and reader smut

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bellaxgiornata · 6 months

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Distracted

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Matt has meditated around you many times before, and every time you've always had the urge to sit in his lap and see how he'd react. So, this time you do.

Warnings/tags: sweet fluff, hurt/comfort

a/n: I've had this idea in my head for a short fic for a long time now because every time I see the scene of Matt meditating at the end of season 1, I just wonder how Matt would react to someone sitting in his lap and interrupting him. So I finally wrote this! Feedback is always appreciated!

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably

Carefully turning the page in your book, you tried to make as little noise as possible. Though to you, the soft crinkle of the paper between your fingertips sounded loud to your ears in comparison to the silence of the apartment. Sucking in a breath and holding it, your eyes darted up over the top of your book to where Matt was sitting on the rug just a few feet before you. Worried that you’d somehow disturbed him, you were grateful to see that he hadn’t even flinched at the noise.

Gently expelling your breath, you found yourself yet again distracted by Matt’s form. Your eyes took in the sight of him once more, your book slowly lowering to your lap where you were curled up on the couch. He was dressed in just a pair of his black boxers, having returned home from his evening out as The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen about forty minutes prior.

Upon arriving back home and descending the steps from the roof access, Matt had immediately begun stripping out of his black suit in the middle of the living room. Worrying over him when he’d let out a hiss of pain, you’d helped him push the coffee table off to the side of the living room as he'd done a few times before, claiming this spot was the best for him to focus in the apartment. He’d repeatedly assured you that he was alright, saying he only sustained a few ‘scratches’ while he was out–though to you they certainly resembled knife wounds. He promised a bit of time meditating would heal himself, telling you not to worry. And that’s exactly what he proceeded to do after he’d moved the coffee table, denying any medical attention from you beforehand.

This wasn’t the first time Matt had drawn his legs into himself and sat motionless in the living room in mediation in front of you. At first it took the pair of you some getting used to because your footsteps around the apartment had often made it difficult for him to drop into the right state of mind that he needed to achieve to heal his body. For the first few times you’d frustrated him with your constant noise, making it difficult for him to slip into that state. Though eventually he’d learned to tune out the sound of your body while you’d learned to find something quiet to do. Which usually meant that you tried to read a book nearby while really you spent most of the time staring at him half naked sitting on the floor instead, your mind switching back and forth between worrying about him and admiring the sight of him.

Which was what you were doing now.

His back was perfectly straight, his hands resting on his knees with his palms upturned. Occasionally you noticed his fingers twitching faintly while you watched him. His face at first glance often looked peaceful and relaxed, but you’d come to learn that if you studied him long enough, you could spot the soft ticks that pulled the corner of his lips into a frown. Or you saw his eyebrows knitting together in repetition, as if he was in deep thought. Sometimes you’d see him wince like he was in pain, always leaving you wondering what he was experiencing. Even his shoulders sometimes tensed, drawing up towards his neck as if the weight of the city was finally taking its toll on him.

Eyes settling along his chest, you watched the slight expanse of it as he quietly inhaled in, holding the breath for a few seconds before you saw his muscles contract with the release of it. He looked deep in concentration now as he continued to rhythmically breathe in and out, seeming barely present in the apartment as he sat there. Which, considering he’d been meditating for a half an hour now, made perfect sense to you. He’d told you once before that his senses sort of dulled just a bit when he turned in on himself like this. And that was probably why you staring at him right now hadn’t remotely interrupted him, because you were certain any other time he’d have been very aware of it.

As your eyes lingered along his clearly defined abdominal muscles that were smeared with a bit of his own blood, you’d noticed he’d stopped bleeding a while ago. The blood on him now mostly appeared dry. His wounds looked a lot more like the scratches he’d dubbed them to be earlier–something that never ceased to amaze you. But as you continued to stare at Matt so still and quiet before you, you couldn’t help but be struck by the same urge you’d been hit by a hundred times before.

Countless times when Matt came back from patrolling the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, settling on the floor in just his dark boxers as he meditated, you’d been struck by the same desire. Often you wanted to just toss your book to the side, rise up to your feet, and settle down in his lap. Partly because you wanted to see how the hell he’d react to you doing that, but partly because it was a genuine struggle to refrain from being near him. Whether it was because you wanted to comfort him or to just make sure that he was alright for yourself, you weren’t entirely sure. But you always felt compelled to just plop right down in that inviting space his legs always made when he crossed them together like they were now.

Bottom lip rolling back between your teeth, you were overcome with that internal confliction once more. Truthfully, you knew you probably shouldn’t interrupt him, which was why you never had all those times he’d done this before. Because he was doing this to heal himself after a night out fighting and being a legitimate hero–even if he blushed and denied it whenever you called him one. But at the same time, you knew he was near the end of his meditation. He never went on meditating for much longer than a half an hour, not for something he’d deem ‘so minor’ as the injuries he’d returned home with tonight. So, really, would you be interrupting him that much?

Fingers drumming lightly along the cover of the book you’d long since forgotten, you gnawed your lip as you continued to stare at Matt sitting on the floor. Eyes snapping shut, you straightened on the couch, abruptly tossing your book onto the cushion beside you with a soft thump . You figured just this one time you’d see what happened if you did. Either Matt would come out of that state pissed and annoyed with you for bothering him, or maybe he wouldn’t. But either way, you could finally stop wondering what the hell would happen if you just did it.

Uncurling your legs on the couch, you lowered your bare feet to the floor one at a time. Attention fixed on Matt, you were honestly surprised he hadn’t even responded to you slowly sliding off the couch, because even you were aware of the groan from the leather as you moved. When his chest continued to rise and fall evenly, his fingers twitching lightly on his left hand, you took two steps until you were standing directly in front of him. The corner of his lip moved so minutely you almost didn’t catch it, but other than that, he still hadn’t reacted to your presence.

Now or never , you told yourself.

Carefully you turned sideways, trying not to accidentally bump his knee as you did. Then you began to gradually lower yourself down onto his lap, holding your breath and biting the inside of your cheek nervously. When you were halfway down, your hands darted forward and grabbed onto Matt’s broad shoulders to steady yourself just before your ass landed in his lap.

Face mere inches from Matt’s now, you saw the way his eyes fluttered behind his closed eyelids before they abruptly flew open, his hazel eyes searching the space before himself as his brows knitted together in confusion. Seconds later he was focusing on you, his gaze landing around your nose.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Shooting Matt a sheepish smile, you shrugged as you continued to hold onto his shoulders. “Honestly?” you answered. “I’m not sure. But I felt compelled to sit here.”

“On my lap?” he asked, brows raising up onto his forehead as his head tilted to the side. “While I was meditating?”

“Yes,” you replied. “I’ve been eyeing it for a while now.”

Matt’s head canted further to the side, his eyes pinching tight as he gazed back at you in disbelief. “You’ve been…eyeing my lap for a while now?”

“Every single time you meditate, actually,” you told him. “I always sit over there,” you explained, gesturing your head back towards the couch, “unable to focus on my book because you’re always sitting here. Half naked.”

“And bleeding,” Matt pointed out.

“Right, well, you stopped doing that a bit ago it seems,” you countered.

The corner of Matt’s lips curled upwards into a grin and you relaxed in his lap, your hands releasing his shoulders as your arms wound around his neck. So he wasn’t going to yell at you apparently. That was good.

“Oh, so if I stop bleeding then it’s okay to interrupt my meditating?” he questioned, amusement in his tone.

"You seemed about done," you replied. "And I couldn't resist the temptation any longer."

"Mmm, temptation was it?" he asked, still grinning.

His hands landed on your hips, carefully turning you in his lap until you were facing him fully, your legs now on either side of his hips. His grin had spread wider across his mouth as he focused on you, his hands sliding around to your lower back before he clasped them together, keeping you in place.

"So, do you usually just stare at me when I'm doing this?" Matt asked curiously. "Is that what you're telling me?"

"Pretty much," you admitted. "But I mean, you're usually barely wearing any clothes, Matt."

"I'm also usually bleeding," he reiterated.

"Yes," you agreed, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his. "Which always has me worrying if you'll be okay. I still don't understand how this works."

Matt's eyes closed as he nuzzled his nose against yours, your body further relaxing into his. His bare skin was warm against the front of you, the comforting heat of him enveloping you as you hugged him tighter.

"Doesn't matter how it works," he whispered. "Just that it does. And that I'm just fine, sweetheart. Like I told you I'd be."

Shifting in his hold, you tilted your head up and gently pressed your lips to his forehead. Matt's arms squeezed around you just a bit tighter in response as your mouth lingered against his skin, just beside a mostly healed cut.

"I'm glad this was the response you had to me interrupting you," you whispered, leaning back to look at his face.

Matt looked vastly more at peace now with his eyes closed than he did while he'd been meditating only minutes ago. For a moment you wondered why that was and if it could have anything to do with you. Your heart fluttered in your chest at the notion.

"What'd you think would happen?" he whispered back.

You shrugged, your arms unwinding from around his neck. Gradually your hands slid up the length of his bare, broad shoulders, rising up both sides of his neck until you were cradling his bruised face between your palms. Gently your thumb stroked his skin, just beneath a dark bruise on his right cheekbone.

"Wasn't sure if you'd yell," you answered softly. "Be mad at me for interrupting you."

His eyes slowly opened again, his gaze focusing around your cheek now. He sent you a sweet smile, one that accentuated the single dimple in his cheek that you loved so much.

"Sweetheart, I would never do that," he assured you. "Though I'd prefer if you want to cuddle in the future that you wait until I'm done. It’s just…less jarring."

"Duly noted," you murmured, resting your forehead back against his. "Sorry for bothering you. Was just…curious."

Matt chuckled, the warm sound filling the apartment and drawing a smile onto your lips. You shook with the movement from your place in his lap as his hands unclasped themselves, spreading wide over your back as he tugged you in even closer to the front of himself.

"You always are," he teased. “But maybe I should get up. I’m probably getting blood all over your clothes.”

Hands sliding from his cheeks and back into his hair, your forehead still pressed to his, you lightly shook your head. As your fingers began gently carding through his dark strands, you heard Matt let out a contented sigh that only encouraged your fingers. Eventually your own eyelids dropped closed, relief at Matt yet again coming home to you safe tonight flooding your body.

“Can we just sit here for a bit longer?” you whispered. “I just want to be with you.”

“Of course,” he murmured. “I’m happy to stay here with you as long as you want.”

Biting back the smile on your face, you shifted in his hold yet again. This time you buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his sweat and the material of the black shirt he'd worn out tonight. Matt leaned forward, pressing his own face into the bit of bare skin along your shoulder that was peeking out from beneath your shirt. His lips lightly brushed your skin in a gentle kiss, the sensation drawing forth a tingling warmth within you.

Releasing a soft sigh, you felt a sense of ease overtake you. You could sit like this all night with him if he’d let you, just content that he was home safe.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock #daredevil

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heliads · 1 year

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Hellloooo!!! I don’t wanna add to your workload so if this just piles on, please delete it! 😅😊 I just had an idea for a newt x reader fic where they’re in an established relationship in the Glade and during a bonfire one night the boys all ask newt questions about what it’s like to date reader and how it feels and newt just answers with the upmost sweetness. Reader overhears and fluff ensues!!!!

fluff ensues has got to be one of my favorite plot descriptions. like yeah it absolutely will do that (and no worries, nothing will stop the workload from being! newt just helps make it better <3)

masterlist

Newt is aware that he is a little bit luckier than most. This is a sentiment that he never thought he’d be caught dead believing. Not in the Glade. Not in the Maze. Not anywhere in this surreal mess of a place. Yet it’s on repeat in his head on a day to day basis nonetheless, ticking off the hours like an alarm clock consisting solely of his blessings.

Newt didn’t think he’d have that much to brag about. No memories means no history he can mention to his equally luckless friends. Still, he’s got one important victory in his life that no one else can even dream of, and that’s the fact that he’s dating Y/N. Yeah, that certainly sets him apart in the world of good things given to kids who can’t quite convince themselves they deserve them.

Some would say that Newt is being a little dramatic. He would argue that his response is perfectly within reason. One girl has been sent up in all the months that anyone’s been in the Glade, one girl and one girl alone, and she just happened to choose him. Around here, that’s grounds for being nominated for sainthood.

Newt isn’t going to act like he’s not just over the moon every time he thinks about the whole situation. Against all odds, Y/N fell in love with him. That’s so unreal that Newt has to pinch himself every hour on the hour just to make sure it isn’t a dream. He never tries too hard, though. Just in case.

He didn’t have many thoughts on love before she came up. There wasn’t really time now, was there? It was just him and the scores of other stragglers making do in their bloody terrible world. You don’t spend much time lingering over potential sweethearts when the closest thing to a Romeo is Gally yelling at everyone in the Glade except his friends.

Not great dating material, to say the least. Even when Y/N came up that one month, though, he still hadn’t fallen for her from the start. He liked her, obviously, she was nice and didn’t test his patience, but he was perfectly content to keep her as a friend, just that. Great expectations have a way of letting you down. Newt’s learned that if you keep your eyes on the ground, stop looking up at the sun and stars, you’ll be able to deal with it a little easier when all your brightest aspirations go away.

He’d done that before and he planned on doing it again. Even as time passed and he realized that his heart had a funny way of speeding up whenever she was nearby, when it occurred to him that his daily routines always had a way of working in chances to see her, Newt forced himself to ignore everything. Maybe he liked the way the morning sunlight always played on Y/N’s face, maybe he could have spent hours wondering over the way her eyes sparkle when she laughs. It was nothing that he could ever commit to treasuring above anything else.

It took several rounds of self-talk and about a dozen different interventions staged by his friends for Newt to get up the courage to tell Y/N how he felt. Hell, it took at least half of those interventions for him to even admit how he felt to himself. Newt had been internalizing for so long that bringing some of those emotions to the forefront of his attention was damned near impossible. Minho, Alby, and a few others, however, were so sick of seeing him ‘mope around like a lovesick fool,’ to quote them specifically, that they were dedicated to the task of getting him in order.

It worked, too. Newt had run through what could have been a hundred speech variations in his head, all mentioning her character or her sense of humor or any one of the millions of things he liked about her best. In the end, he didn’t choose a single one. The second Newt pulled Y/N away from a crowd of their friends for ‘something he needed to say in private,’ every single whirlwind of thoughts storming through his head came to an abrupt stop. He totally blanked out.

Newt wouldn’t even know that he managed to force any words out at all were it not for the fact that the effects of that interaction are quite obvious. Somehow, Y/N ended up returning his affections, and they’ve been doing pretty well ever since. Newt doesn’t like counting his eggs before they hatch and all that, but he’d go so far as to say that he doesn’t see it ever breaking down for quite some time, if ever. They’re alright. They’re great, and they’re happy, and in a place like this, you take that and run with it for as long as you can. Maybe it’ll ruin itself someday, but Newt plans on pushing that off to the distant future for forever and a day.

In the meantime, Newt gets to think about how lucky he is. Despite the fact that Y/N’s apparently been crushing on him for just as long as he started liking her, and despite the fact that Frypan proclaims on a daily basis that he’s never seen two shanks more alike, Newt still feels like all of this is just one great coincidence. Maybe it was never supposed to happen, but it did, and he’s going to love that and her for as long as he can.

She’s waiting for him now, he thinks. Work is over for the day, and there’s a Bonfire Night happening this evening too, courtesy of the shivering Greenie fresh out of the Box who still can’t seem to keep his shock from showing. The fool to whom this celebration is owed looks like he’s going to keel over, what from the way he keeps half doing a backbend from continually craning his neck up to stare at the Walls, but the rest of them can get drunk and fuck around and generally have a good time.

Greenies never appreciate their Bonfire Nights enough anyway. It’s up to the rest of the Gladers to show them what it’s like to have fun. Who knows the next time they’ll be able to stop stressing over the ruins of their lives anyway? Newt’s heard half a dozen Gladers proclaim that they only live bonfire to bonfire anyway. They might as well prove it tonight.

Newt meets Y/N on the outskirts of the bonfire just as the dark starts to fall. Dusk kicks up its heels, keeping watch over the revels and hiding the sun, which can never bear to see whatever mistakes they’re going to make next. Y/N holds out a hand to him, one Newt gladly accepts.

“I can’t believe it’s been six months now since I first showed up,” she grins, gesturing towards the Box with her free hand, “Feels like just yesterday.”

Newt snorts. “Time flies when you’re having fun, huh? Trust me, the Greenie Days get faster and faster. I swear I just finished touring the last kid, and now we’ve got another one to keep pestering us with questions.”

Y/N shakes her head, considering this. “Nah, I think this one will be better. He’s too scared to speak above a whisper. If you try, you can just ignore him.”

Newt chuckles. “I’m not supposed to be bullying the Greenies. Alby says I’m meant to set a good example.”

“I saw Alby telling Minho to trip the new kid to see if he’d finally make a sound if he bit the dirt,” Y/N comments, “I don’t think kindness is really in our books.”

Newt arches a brow. “I could see that happening. Did it work?”

“No,” Y/N says, disappointed, “Kid was so scared to move a muscle that he didn’t fall at all. Just kind of stopped walking like he’d hit a wall instead of Minho’s ankle.”

Newt tries to bite back a smile. He’s only half successful. “Shame. That would have been fun to see.”

Y/N laughs. “That’s what I said. Anyways, they’re all over there, near the fire. I think the next strategy is to give the kid some of Gally’s brew in the hopes that it’ll coax something out of him other than his dinner.”

Newt shudders. “Best of luck to him.”

“And to me,” Y/N replies, “I think I’m going to get a glass of my own. See you in a second.”

Newt waves a casual hand in goodbye, watching as his girlfriend weaves through the steadily forming crowds of Gladers in an attempt to track down a drink. He takes a seat near an overturned log, staring into the fire as it disappears into sparks. Six months since Y/N appeared in the Box, so it’s been indeed.

Newt can’t decide whether that feels like a long time or not nearly long enough. Y/N’s changed him in almost every way, that much is obvious. Sometimes, in meeting someone you know will impact you forever, you almost want them to have been around for much longer. Strangers aren’t meant to become your best friends, not until you’ve known them for years and you have scores of memories to share. You want to give them decades in your mind, centuries, as a sign that they’ve been so important to you. Mere months aren’t enough. Surely it should be more.

It isn’t, and maybe that’s for the best. Newt has no memories save for when he came up his own share of months ago. All his friends are new, all his enemies still more recent. Maybe the girl he loves has only been in his life for a short time, but his recorded life is short indeed. Everything is modern. That’s just how it is.

Newt becomes aware of eyes on him and realizes that he might not be the only one reminiscing about when Y/N came up in the maze. A few Gladers have come up by Newt’s side, steadily appearing out of the gloom and smoke to stare at him.

Newt glances at them questioningly, and a few moments later the bravest of them dares to voice their collective thoughts. “What’s it like dating Y/N?” The boy asks, “you know, since she’s the only girl?”

Newt smiles to himself. “It’s great,” he says.

This clearly isn’t the response the other boy wants. “Yeah,” he repeats, “but what’s it like? It’s not like the rest of us have our own girlfriends to compare it with.”

Newt bites back a laugh. “Well,” he begins, noticing out of the corner of his eyes that the other boys draw closer to him expectantly, “it’s like having a best friend, but even better. She’s someone I can talk to at any time, but I don’t have to worry about seeming uncool or weird around her. Y/N knows exactly who I am, the good and the bad, but she’s chosen to be with me anyway. It makes you feel like you can do anything.”

The boy nods, accepting this. “Are you ever worried that she’s going to get tired of you and leave you for someone else?”

“If you’re asking me if I’m worried about competition,” Newt says slowly, “I’d say, don’t think you even have a chance. She’s my girlfriend, you bloody shank, not some object you can steal away. Anyway, obviously I’d like it if she stayed with me a while longer, but I’m not scared, no. I know that we’re happy, and that’s enough.”

The boy’s face flushes scarlet when Newt calls him out, but he seems to have made his peace with it at the end. Newt’s half expecting more questions, but all of a sudden they scatter to the corners of the celebration. A few moments later, the cause of the disturbance becomes obvious: Y/N herself takes a seat next to him, glass in hand.

“It seems like you had a score of admirers,” she says, lips twitching up into a smile.

Newt groans. “More like your admirers, trust me. They wanted to ask about what it was like to date you. Not something I thought I’d be discussing with the Slicers-in-training, but why not?”

Y/N laughs. “Oh, I know. I have to say, though, it was very sweet. Being with me makes you feel like you can do anything?”

Newt feels his entire face heat up, and he briefly ponders launching himself into the fire to escape it. “I didn’t realize you were eavesdropping. That’s rude, you know.”

Y/N just grins. “I do apologize. It was very sweet, though. I appreciated it.”

Newt rolls his eyes, but he can’t keep a smile off of his face for long. “Does that mean you won’t leave me for some random boy who showed up a few months ago?”

“I’ll consider it,” she assures him, “like you said, though, I wouldn’t worry much. I happen to like being with you quite a bit as well.”

Newt reaches over, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her close. Y/N leans her head on his shoulder, and they stay there for quite some time, watching the embers of the fire curl into ribbons of smoke up in the darkest reaches of the sky. The bonfire dances, their friends shout and clap and laugh all around them, and through it, they keep going. All is well.

tmr tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @thatfangirl42, @hiya-its-amber, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope, @fadedver

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muzansfangs · 4 months

Text

Not perfect, yours.

Starring: Tomioka Giyuu x f!reader;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, fluff, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, body worship, spoiler regarding Giyuu’s past, scars from battles, learning self-love, comfort sex, creampie, enstablished secret relationship, mentions to injures, post traumatic stress disorder (flashes about Sabito’s death), nipple play, praise kink, slight choking kink;

Plot: You have learned to love yourself by loving him. Living a life of danger, wearing the scars of your fights with pride, you would have never thought someone was going to love you. When you met him, when he opened his heart to you, though, everything changed. Protecting what you two had was your priority. As you shared a night into a Wisteria house with him, you finally let yourself go. You trusted Giyuu with your whole life, you loved him more than anything else on this world;

Author note: it is rare for me to put the author note on top of a one-shot, but in order to prevent possible drama to happen, I needed to clarify a thing, or two: this fic is an old work of mine posted on my old Ao3 account and my old Wattpad profile as well. While I cannot log anymore into Ao3 for some reason, I can still log into my old Wattpad profile and I will try to gradually delete my old works as I fix and rewrite them! Do not worry and enjoy this little scrap!

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

The bittersweet scent of the wisteria filled the room, a gentle breeze blowing from the window making the atmosphere quite peaceful.

Sitting onto the tatami floor, you ran your fingers absent-mindedly through your hair, glancing at your reflection in the mirror in front of you. You looked battered. A constellation of scratches and bruises of various colors, mostly purple though, adorned your skin. Your hair, despite emanating a sweet porfume from the oil you had been kindly provided by the old keeper of the Wisteria house were still a mess. You had not got much time to trim them as of late.

What did you expect, though? This was your life and your day had been spent in a draining battle against a demon. Nothing new under the sun. You were used to look like this, to look kind of repulsive or unattractive for most of the male population. Or those were the words you had frequently heard people tag you with.

You were beautiful, your eyes glowing in passion, your features and curves making some Oirans turn pale. Yet, you had chosen a path that made you collect scars over your body and that caused every man you had met in your life to scrunch their noses in disgust, whenever you tried to strike up some basic conversation.

No one seemed to like a woman who lived the life of a warrior.

No one except him, the Water Pillar, Giyuu Tomioka. You two were considered the outcasts of the society. You were a rather unconventional woman, he was a lone wolf barely talking to people. Too reserved, too detached from the world, too sensitive too. Yet, you somehow found love in his solitary heart.

Glancing back at him from above your shoulder, your gaze trailed towards him, laying on the futon behind you. He was shirtless, his ocean blue eyes locking with yours before travelling down your own body. You watched how his pale cheeks turned red and you smiled faintly at his innocent reaction. His gaze was not lustful, it was one of complete adoration: a timid attempt to make you feel appreciated.

You were not naked, you still had the pants of your uniform hanging loosely on your hips and your chest was still covered by the straps of your worn-out bendage bra. However, that was the first time you had been stuck in the same room together, barely wearing clothes.

This was a new experience, a level of intimacy you both had been looking forward to. Something you coveted for months.

Seven months had passed since your first date. It had taken you less than two months to realize how deep was your love for him, how strong was the connection binding you to his heart. You still vividly remembered the day you two kissed for the first tims. It was a starless night at the Butterfly Estate and you were recovering from your last mission.

Giyuu blamed himself for not having accompanied you and kept on self-deprecating for always making the same fatal mistakes. The mistakes only you knew about.

“I could have lost you. Just like I have lost him” he had bitterly uttered, teary eyes inspecting your beaten visage. Countering back something was pointless. Giyuu never displayed emotions around other people. But he did with you and you knew that nothing could have truly made him change his mind, therefore you had boldly cupped his face in your hands and captured his chapped lips with yours. Amazement, awe, the feeling of floating and being loved for the first time ever engulfed you two.

The monsters keeping him awake at night, the guilt of having had his life spared by fate, or better, for having left Sabito alone in the wood had temporary evaporated.

You had fallen asleep in his arms that very night. It had became a habit of yours, slumping down next to him and nuzzling your face onto the crook of his neck. It was hard resting without his body keeping you warm at night.

And just like you always did, that night you walked up to him and straddled his lap. By the look in your eyes and the way Giyuu swallowed forcefully, you could tell something was different, though. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, when you shifted slightly to adjust your position on him. You felt his breath hitching and you batted your eyes closed for several seconds. You could feel the spark between you two, the air getting thin. It was suddenly so hard to breathe.

“Giyuu” you called out his name feebly, making sure he was fine.

It took a moment for him to answer, his hands resting comfortably on your hips to make sure you were really there “I need to know that whatever is going to happen in the future, you will always remember this moment”he softly said then, sending shivers down your spine. How could you ever forget it?

A small smile crept on your lips, half-lidded eyes peeking at him as you cupped his face in your hands and planted a chaste, brief kiss on his parted lips “I could never forget it. Not even in another life” you breathed out, fueling his confidence. You were the only one who had ever managed to make him appreciate himself, as much as it was possible. You knew that some wounds could not completely heal, but you had always tried to mend them, you always did your best to soothe him and save him from the demons pestering his mind.

Saving him somehow meant saving yourself.

The Water Pillar sighed and smashed his lips against yours, earning a breathy gasp from you. Your fingers tangled in his silky, black hair, tugging at them slightly to encourage him to deepen it. It was passionate, emotional even, and you felt your heart burn in your chest, when Giyuu wrapped his hand around your wrist and led it down.

You frowned, eyes opened in curiosity, until you realized that he had settled it to lay flat over his bare chest. You blushed and you could tell he was worried, maybe. You could feel his heart thrumming rhythmically underneath his ribcage, a lullaby you had learnt to fall asleep to through the months.

“Are you sure that you want this?” the Water Hashira mumbled, drawing invisible patterns with his thumb over the back of your hand.

You smiled and nodded your head vigorously “With every inch of my heart” you confirmed.

Giyuu squeezed your hand gently, his heart-rate increasing notably at the sound of your voice “Does it mean that you trust me?” he asked, staring deep into your glimmering eyes.

Your heart ached at the sound of his voice, so uncertain, so thready. Years spent in believing you do not deserve to be alive, undergoing degrading profanities thrown at your face, and enduring loneliness without anyone to stick by your side could deeply demage someone. Given instance, Giyuu Tomioka was broken beyond repair.

“I trust you” you whispered, pressing your forehead against his one.

Words became unnecessary, at this point. You believed in him, you trusted him wholeheartedly and that was already enough.

In a nick of time, his calloused fingers undid the bendages around your torso and your breasts were exposed to his soft eyes. Your nipples stood uptight, as the cool night breeze coming from the window pierced and bit your exposed skin. It was such a delightful sight to behold for him. You let him explore your body, his fingers roaming down your curves and his lips planting wet, open-mouthed kisses down your collarbone, until their grazed your nipples.

You moaned, batting your eyes closed as the tip of his fingers traced the irregular outlines of the small scars you had collected during years of slaying demons. You flinched under his touch, your eyes watering as he praised your beauty continously under his breath, your skin a canvas for him to print kisses over.

“Are you sure I am desirable?” you asked him, burying your face onto the crook of his neck.

Giyuu snorted and grasped your chin delicately, forcing you to look at his face “You are a goddess. Don't you dare claiming otherwise” he deadpanned, cutting you off with a kiss before you could have the chance to retort something.

You flushed in embarrassment, one of his hands working on his belt to unbuckle it hastily. He wanted you, but above anything else he felt the urge to let you know how much you worthed, how deeply he loved you and your glorious body. Giyuu was rather quiet, sometimes it was better for him to act than translate his feelings in words.

In a blink of an eye, you were laying on your back, your pants now discarded somewhere behind you. His cold hand slided underneath your panties, goosebumps raising on your naked legs as he approached your aching core. It felt right. Giyuu was the one.

Blue eyes met yours and you squealed out in pleasure, when his fingers drew figures eight on your bundle of nerves. He was nervous, yet gentle and, when he saw he was successfully pleasuring you, he grew more confident in his actions.

He shot you a knowing glance, before slipping your panties off and, when you bit your lower lip nodding at him, he wasted no time in accomplishing his duty of a caring lover. Anything you wanted, he was going to give it to you.

“Gorgeous, just gorgeous...” he whispered again, his index grazing down at your entrance. He had always felt out of place, as if he did not belong anywhere, but right now the center of his world was right in front of his eyes. You were his happy place in the world. Therefore, for the first time ever, he felt home.

You mewled under his touch, rosy cheeks and shaking legs waiting for him to make his move, to mark you as his for there was nothing more you desired more.

The raven-haired man smiled weakly at you and slowly slided his finger into your aching core, earning a strained moan from you. It was a blissful moment, a glimpse of the bright future laying ahead of you two. You had no idea for how long you were going to be together, considering the life you had chosen to live, but it would have been such a miraculously blissful and dreamy journey.

When he decided to add another finger to stretch you out better before the act, you sighed in content and bucked your hips up in frustration. You yearned for more, for him, for everything.

“Giyuu, please... – you whined, gripping the bedsheets underneath you so tightly that you thought you were going to rip them – I want you” you said, out of breath, eyes glistening in sheer lust and love.

Giyuu obliged to your request and, resting his elbows at each side of your head, he shoved his lenght inside you. A throaty moan fell from his lips, resounding into the bedroom of the Wisteria House you were currently quartering in. He filled you up completely, your walls squeezing him perfectly, as he conquered you inch by inch. Conntected, at least, for the very first time.

You had never seen Giyuu in such a miserable condition. He was barely keeping himself together, sweat beaded his forehead as he stayed still to let you adjust to his size. Your needs came before his ones. The look of adoration in your eyes, the way you kissed him lovingly, wrapping your legs around his waist, made him lose his cool, though.

He did not speak, instead he pulled out of you until only his tip was still buried in your heat before snapping his hips forward again. Your toes curled and you let out a sinful moan of ecstasy, eyes rolling back to your skull.

A few slow and deep thrusts followed, eliciting grunts and pleas from you. You were a moaning mess underneath him, his slow and passionate rhythm sending you to cloud nine. Was it possible falling in love all over again, every second you spent with the same person, with him? It was and it was pretty clear how deeply you trusted him, when, before you both got to reach your climax, you allowed him to wrap his hand around your throat.

Lewd noises and sacrilegious moans filled the air, but you had never felt more alive than now.

He came into you that night, collapsing beside you, drained, and unusually happy because you made him happy.

He turned towards you, silence swallowing you two for a few minutes. He was lost into a whirlwind of emotions, contemplating your weary face affectionately. You were the center of his Universe.

“I love you” he breathed out then, propping his head on the palm his hand to stare at you.

You chuckled softly, reaching out your hand to ruffle his hair jokingly before you spoke out your feelings once again “I love you too, baby”.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! The urge to show love to this man was eating me up from the inside and therefore I am, fixing a relatively old work of mine. As per usual, likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated.

Until next,

x o x o

TAGS: @electronicwitchcollection @shonen-brainrot @ladytamayolover @speedykittenpainter @youdidntseemehere21 @xxfelix-nightxx @doumadono

#demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #giyuu x you #tomioka x y/n #tomioka x you #tomioka giyu smut #tomioka giyuu x reader #tomioka x reader #tomioka giyuu

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olderthannetfic · 4 months

Note

I'm beginning to realize that my closest fandom friend is... not a good friend, for me.

When they're doing well, they're awesome -the best beta reader, hype man, partner-in-shipping-crime you could wish for. The first year we knew each other, we'd talk every day, some days for hours on end, often getting really personal. I never before had anyone in my life who encouraged my creativity like that; they supported me in learning to draw, wrote pages and pages of concrit on my fics, seemed to genuinely enjoy my work... it was kinda heady. Addictive.

When they're not doing well however, they... disappear. And they have a habit of ghosting people, deleting their account, and creating a wholly new identity in a fresh fandom when they're "good" again. They didn't do it last time they went through a depressive episode... but they did do a big disappearing act for a bit, and the realization of how little our connection meant to them and how easily they could cut me out really... damaged something.

I've tried to let it go. But... their new "happy stuff only" boundaries (never share anything too personal or real -something they insisted on post-latest depressive episode), their habit of disappearing for days (even weeks) on end with no word (leaving me worried AF for their health), the fact that I clearly care more about them than they care about me... it's like salt in a wound.

And yet, I feel like I can't cut them out -their "good self" is the best friend I've ever had in my life. I just... feel incredibly disposable, and like receiving that amazing friendship and support depends on me having no needs, no sorrows, and existing at their convenience only.

I don't really know what to do.

Sorry for the giant text block T_T (Thank you for having open asks)

Drop them.

I think you're wrong about them not caring as much as you do. The pattern they're displaying is someone whose life is spiraling out of control, not someone who just doesn't care.

However, people who have a ghosting problem do not get better.

Not without multiple years of offline stuff changing and probably some hard work on their part that has nothing to do with you and that you cannot affect in any way.

You will not go back to the honeymoon period even if they decide you can talk about non-happy things again, and more to the point, they're going to ghost you again and again and again.

The way to make that stop is to stop being in contact with them.

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sebastianswallows · 11 months

Text

Beautiful memories — Chapter 1

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (aged up)

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is sentenced to Azkaban for six months. When he is released, he finds MC is expecting a child, and is filled with anger and jealousy and confusion. He just doesn't know the child is his yet.

— WARNINGS: angst, just a lot of angst (eventually there will be fluff and smut, but in later chapters)

— WORDCOUNT: 2.7k

— A/N: This fic is for a prompt by @pugsnotdrugs92, and I was also asked to write a similar fic by at least one anon.

Sadly, since she gave me that prompt, Pugs has deleted her blog. I have just learned this tonight and I am... pretty damn upset, I'll say that (not at her of course 💗, but at what caused it).

I will just say that if you get hate from anyone, block them, block indiscriminately until you have peace. I hope that Pugs (and anyone who deleted their blog as part of this mess) will make an account on this hellsite again one day <3

Anyway! On with the fic. Hope you enjoy it, my dears 🌺

Nobody had any idea who turned Sebastian in. It came so unexpectedly that they almost didn’t believe it when he happened. After all, it had been two years since Solomon’s death, and everyone in Feldcroft believed he died in his sleep.

“I know it isn’t me,” she said tearfully to Ominis one day, “and I know it isn’t you.”

“And it wasn’t Anne either,” said Ominis with a shake of his head.

“Are you sure? She still isn’t speaking to Sebastian.”

“She protected him this whole time, why would she report him to the ministry now? She might not forgive Sebastian, but she wouldn’t do this to him…”

Their suspicions fell on Leander, or the goblins, or any number of rivals Sebastian had made, but none of their suspects were likely to even know the truth about what happened that day in the catacomb. It therefore stood to reason that someone had overheard them speaking about it at some point, but that did little to narrow it down — for all they knew, one of the portraits had heard them and reported it to the Headmaster.

Ultimately, it didn’t matter who told the Aurors about it. The trio rushed through their N.E.W.T.S. half-heartedly, with Sebastian unsurprisingly scoring lower than he ever had, and in their spare time they spoke of nothing but the upcoming trial.

They’d even arranged for a solicitor for Sebastian, and visited him via floo in London, but he only spoke to his client in private. And every time Sebastian walked out of the wizard’s office, he looked more discouraged than the last.

The trial took place during summer, right after their 7th year ended. Both she and Ominis attended it every day. Imelda came sometimes as well, and Poppy, and Lucan — even Garreth attended on two occasions. He’d never liked Sebastian much, but he seemed to put aside his feelings throughout all of this.

“They don’t mean to send him there, do they?” he whispered as they sat outside the courtroom one sweltering afternoon.

“Where else?” said Imelda. “They closed all the other wizarding prisons centuries ago.”

“But he’s supposed to have done it while he was still a student…”

“What d’you expect? That they’ll give him detention for murder?”

“No, but…”

“You don’t think he really did it, do you, Imelda?” asked Poppy, leaning over Garreth.

“He didn’t,” said Ominis without even glancing their way.

“That’s right,” she said from beside Ominis. “Sebastian’s done nothing wrong.”

The trial went badly almost from the start. The judge was a grey old wizard in a funny wig, and there was no jury to speak of. He seemed to treat the death of a former Auror, even one of such ill repute as Solomon, quite seriously. The Prosecution leaned into that every chance they got.

Anne was called to give testimony in the first week, and she confessed under oath what she had found when she reached the catacombs, which was enough to shock the court. Sebastian’s friends took courage from the fact that she had not actually seen what killed Solomon, but it was only a matter of the judge drawing a line between a quick succession of events.

Ominis was called to the stand as well, but lied shamelessly. Even the threat of Veritaserum from the Prosecution didn’t sway him. He knew none of them would dare submit a Gaunt to that — a rare occasion of his family name amounting to something. However, him being Sebastian’s oldest friend cast doubt upon his entire deposition…

And then, she was called to give testimony as well. Unlike Ominis, she was not sure she could afford to lie, but nothing could get her to betray Sebastian.

All that she could remember was that Solomon attacked the both of them, and both she and Sebastian felt quite threatened by him, and then somehow, between the flying curses and roving Inferi, Uncle Solomon fell dead. But that happened, after all, more than two years ago, Your Honour, and it was in a dark and gloomy cave — and oh, what were they doing there? Objection. Relevance?

Ominis and the others congratulated her on well she held her own, but deep down, she felt like she had let her best friend down — her statement didn’t put the blame on Sebastian, but neither did it exonerate him.

By the time the trial was approaching the end, their former classmates had stopped coming, and only she and Ominis were left.

“He looks so —”

“I know,” said Ominis, not wanting to hear her describe him. This was on the last day, and the judge would give the verdict.

Guilty. Six months in Azkaban.

The courtroom reverberated with murmurs from the crowd — some in approval, others in outrage.

It was a horrible sentence to hear, but it was not as bad as their worst fears — people were often given life imprisonment for the Unforgivables. Fortunately, in Sebastian’s case, there was not enough conclusive evidence either way. Still, if they were to appeal, it would take longer than six months to even have a new judge assigned to the case, so they were left with no choice but to accept it.

As the Aurors led Sebastian away, she and Ominis stood together and called out useless encouragements to their friend, telling him to have courage, to be strong, have faith that he would soon be free, but he went with the guards without looking back at them…

Most of their former classmates were shocked but seemed to think the six-month sentence would pass quickly. They knew Azkaban was pretty horrible and could remember a few things from their DADA class, but none of them was truly educated on the nature of Dementors. Ominis was. He’d been in their presence when he and his father went to visit an uncle of his who’d been sentenced for murdering a muggle. He claimed it was the worst experience he’d ever had in his life — worse than Crucio, in its own way. He still remembered how the despair lingered inside him for days.

And as time passed, she became aware of something lingering within herself as well…

By the fourth month, she had to use concealment charms around her waist when she went out in public. Ominis figured it out on his own — it was probably that echolocation spell he used to get around. He’d merely been suspicious at first, but by the fifth month…

“Can anyone else see?!”

“No, and they won’t if you just stop —”

“But this could ruin your reputation!”

“Don’t you think I know that?!”

“I can’t believe you! How c—”

“Ominis, shut up,” she hissed.

“But you —”

“It’s Sebastian’s!”

“… Oh. I suppose that makes it better, then.”

From then on, Ominis supported her and helped her in any way he could — which admittedly wasn’t much, as he was still getting used to living on his own after being freed from his family’s clutches. And either way, the first few months were gentle enough on her that she could cope well enough on her own. The only help she needed was preparing her small flat to host two people — and eventually three — which meant some creative furniture transfiguration to fit everything in too small a space.

Christmas arrived in the meanwhile, then the New Year. They had tried writing to him every month by then, but the authorities kept sending their letters back — none were allowed for fear of concealed enchantments, they said, and no visitations were allowed either for lower-class prisoners. It broke her heart to know him all alone throughout those rotten months and all through the holidays. Neither she nor Ominis found it in them to celebrate anything that year…

Sebastian was released in February. They wouldn’t be allowed on the island of Azkaban, but they could see him at the Ministry, where he would be transported before he was officially freed.

She and Ominis got there at sunrise, and waited for hours.

Sebastian’s assigned solicitor couldn’t be there, as he had another case, but he sent a house elf to sign the release form in his name. Anne hadn’t come either, but that was hardly a surprise…

The two of them sat alone in a busy hallway, watching witches and wizards pass through — some going in, some going out — until finally, late in the afternoon, the Auror at the front desk told them that inmate Sallow would be arriving within minutes.

“Here, here, they said this will be the exit,” she said, pulling on Ominis’ sleeve.

Two large wooden doors lay open out of which a long dark hallway extended like a neck, and on either side were doors being shut and open of ministry workers travelling through. There was constantly a small crowd of people darkening that space even further.

“I think that’s him,” she said, standing on the tips of her toes when she spotted a dark ruffled head of hair.

“Alright, stay calm,” said Ominis, taking her hand to settle her. Since he’d realised that she was pregnant, he was instinctively more protective.

“Oh, it is! It is him!” she said with tears in her happy voice.

Sebastian was led out of one of those side doors — dressed in a grey and black prisoner’s uniform, his hands and feet chained, terribly thin and tired and bent at the back, and looking as if he hadn’t slept for days…

“Sebastian!” she called out, waving to him with the hand that wasn’t in Ominis’ grasp. “Over here!”

He looked up slowly, as if doubting that he’d heard his name called. His eyes searched blearily through the crowd ahead, not really focusing anywhere, but then they fell on her. She grinned brightly when she caught his gaze.

“Y-you came?” he said, looking at the two of them like they were a dream come true.

“Of course,” she said.

“Surely you didn’t expect anything else,” grinned Ominis.

“I… I need to go somewhere, they’re taking me to… to…” He didn’t have time to explain before Aurors led him around the corner and to another room, for processing.

“We’ll be here,” she called out after him, “we’ll wait for you!”

“How does he look?” whispered Ominis. “He sounded quite weak.”

“He looks… the way he sounded,” she said, “but he’ll be alright… He has to be. We’ll make sure of it.”

Less than thirty minutes later, Sebastian stepped back outside. He was now dressed the way he was when they arrested him: a faded green sweater and black trousers with worn old leather shoes. The clothes hung on his lanky frame, his face was all angles and shadows, and he looked as if he hadn’t had a wash in the whole six months. He was, of course, without his wand as well — they’d broken that after his sentencing.

But there was a still little light still left in his eyes, and it shone when he saw his friends again. He called out her name and Ominis’, and walked toward them with feeble brisk steps.

“I can’t believe it,” he grinned weakly, his steps growing bolder the closer he got to his friends. “I never thought —”

But then he noticed their joined hands, and her swollen stomach, and it nearly stopped him in his tracks. He only caught the sight for a second before she let go of Ominis and rushed to embrace him.

“Seb,” she cried out as she jumped into his arms. She clung to his neck like a lifeline. “I’ve missed you so much…”

“I’ve… missed you too,” he said, his voice low and uncertain.

She buried her face in his neck while Sebastian’s eyes fell to Ominis — who embraced him too from the other side in an uncharacteristic display of affection, before he stood back timidly.

“How… erm, how are you?” he asked with a nervous smile, feeling more happy than he cared to admit, and relieved to have his friend back in one piece.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Sebastian. Gently, he dropped the girl from his arms and slowly pulled away.

“Of course,” she said, wiping her tears and stepping back, but keeping his hand clasped in hers. “You don’t have to. You don’t have to say anything. We just came to take you home. It’s alright now… You’re free, you’re finally back. We’ve missed you so much…”

“Home?” said Sebastian, looking between her and Ominis coolly. “Whose home is that?”

“Well… whichever one you want,” she said. “Yours or mine or…”

“I don’t think I’m ready to see Feldcroft again,” said Sebastian. “But I wouldn’t want to… impose on either of you.”

“What?” frowned Ominis. “Don’t be stup— I mean, don’t worry about that, Sebastian.”

“Oh, is there something to worry about?” he asked.

“Well —”

“We don’t need to discuss that —”

“— here.”

“— now.”

“… I see.”

“Don’t concern yourself with anything,” she smiled, stepping up to him again and embracing him loosely. “Let’s leave this horrible place first…”

They made their way out of the ministry building and through the cold London streets toward Diagon Alley, and his friends talked to him excitedly about the things that had happened: what their former classmates were doing, what they knew about Anne, even the latest Quidditch matches.

They probably felt less cheerful than they seemed, but their enthusiasm was overflowing as they prattled on about all the normal things people their age should care about, almost as if nothing bad had happened at all. They laughed, and smiled, and rubbed his back, and all the while there was in Sebastian’s gait much of the same imprisoned and defeated look as there had been when he was led out of the courtroom at his sentencing.

“We wrote to you while you were there,” she said as they approached the Leaky Cauldron.

“But the damned guards never delivered them,” said Ominis.

Sebastian listened in silence, and they tacitly agreed it was because of what he had been through. He would open up to both of them in time, they were certain…

They decided to have lunch at the Cauldron since neither of them had eaten anything since morning — and they didn’t even wish to think of the food in Azkaban. They ordered sausages and eggs and mashed potatoes and a great big serving of pickled pumpkin.

Sebastian ate the least out of the three of them — and what he didn’t finish, she devoured. Ominis hid his chuckle behind a cough, while Sebastian could barely look at her. If she noticed it, she didn’t say. She just kept smiling and laughing along with Ominis…

More than ever in Azkaban, he wished he could dig a hole for himself through which to disappear. The Leaky Cauldron was noisy and crowded, the smell of food made his stomach turn, and every scrape of a chair was like a scratch across his brain. Even sitting down was uncomfortable, his muscles too thin and his back too weak to hold him. He moved uncomfortably from one position to another, and let his friends prattle on to fill the emptiness between them.

After almost an hour, they decided to leave, and Sebastian nodded in agreement.

“I’m seeing someone at the ministry next Wednesday about a position,” said Ominis as they walked toward the fireplace. “But I can stop by afterwards if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” she said. “You’re always welcome, you know that.”

“Do you have enough chocolate at home? I can bring some more.”

“Shelves full of it,” she laughed. “But more is always a good idea. I suspect we’ll need it.”

“Well, I’ll bid you two goodbye for now, then,” said Ominis as he waved them off, blissfully oblivious to what was going through Sebastian’s mind.

“Goodbye,” she said with a tearful smile, letting go of Sebastian for a brief while to hug their friend once more.

“I’ll let you know before I arrive on Wednesday.”

“Not to worry, Ominis. We’ll be alright… Everything will be alright now.”

“I hope so…”

“And good luck with your interview!”

“Thank you… Although I’m not sure I want it.”

“Thank you, Ominis,” said Sebastian tiredly. “For… everything.”

“Don’t be silly,” he smiled. “I’m glad to have you back. We both are. Just focus on getting well again…”

Sebastian nodded, not feeling that any of their kind words were true. He disappeared in the green flames with her, wishing for once to not appear on the other end.

#Sebastian Sallow #Ominis Gaunt #hl #Sebastian Sallow fanfiction #Sebastian Sallow imagine #Sebastian Sallow x MC #Sebastian Sallow x reader #pugsnotdrugs92 #I miss you 😭#sswallow;made a thing #sswallow;fanfics #fanfic;memories

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ao3commentoftheday · 2 years

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*person compliments your fic*

humility: omg thanks! I wasn't really sure about this one, so I'm glad you think it turned out!

self-deprecation: it was so much better in my head. I only posted because I got tired of looking at it.

self-loathing: you don't have to be nice. I know it's trash. I should just delete it

confidence: as soon as I got the idea, I just *knew* I had to write it!

arrogance: right? I wish other people could write like this too but so many people in this fandom just don't understand the characters like I do

---

I keep trying to find ways to explain the thoughts that I have when I read the notes on my posts where people beat themselves up. I'm writing this in a convincing tone (I noticed when I was 1 paragraph away from finishing), but that's just how I communicate most of the time. Please add in whatever caveats you think are appropraite. This is just me trying to think my way through some things.

So many of you out there seem to think that the only way to be "honest" about your abilities is to criticize yourself harshly. Like being kind to yourself is somehow self-aggrandizing.

Humility and confidence are two ends of the same spectrum. In both cases, you're secure in your own abilities. You have faith in yourself and what you can do. Humility relates to your internal security and the way you treat yourself. Confidence relates to your external security and how to relate to others.

If you are humble or confident, you have a realistic understanding of what you can and can't do. What you're good at, what you're great at, and what you can't do very well at all. You can accept a compliment when it's earned and you can accept a critique when you're trying to improve. Neither change your self-perception very much one way or the other. You'll be more humble when you're just learning a new skill and you'll be more confident once you're on your way to mastering it.

Self-deprecation and self-loathing are signs that you don't have a realistic view of your own capabilities. You're insecure and comparing yourself to others and finding yourself lacking. This might be a learned behaviour, where every time you showed confidence you were told you were getting prideful. It might be a case of insulting yourself before others are able to insult you - taking the power back from a bully by bullying yourself first.

Arrogance is also unrealistic, but at the other end of the spectrum. With arrogance, you compare yourself to others and put yourself in first place. You think others are below you or can't compete with you, that you're better than they are and they could never be as good as you. There's an insecurity with arrogance too. A fear that if you aren't the best then you must be a loser. If you're not number 1 then you aren't worth anything.

I use the example of getting a compliment because it's so commonplace in creative spaces. If you're insecure, it can be hard -even painful!- to accept them but learning how to do so can be a really valuable step on the road to learning how to be better to yourself.

#thinky thoughts #I'm still not getting the ideas out of my brain very well #so expect this to be the next thing I won't shut up about #as I try to noodle my way through it #long post #still #this turned out better formed than it was in my brain before I started typing #so I'll take that as a win!

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ltleflrt · 1 year

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This whole backlash against printing fics irks the fuck out of me, and I got some shit to say about it. Mostly "Fuck You" but here's some nuance:

On the surface, I understand where the naysayers are coming from. It's a legitimate fear that making a profit from fanworks will bring down the C&D Hammer on fandom. I get that. Do not put on the One Ring, or you'll risk the Eye of Sauron.

But here's the thing. Fuck capitalism. Fuck digital only. We're living in the digital dark ages, and 100 years from now huge swathes of our history, fact and fiction, will be lost to our descendants because there will be no physical copies of our lives for them to find in old libraries and boxes in the attic, etc.

Creators deserve physical copies of their creations, and so do the other people in the world who love them.

I don't want to profit from letting people print my fics. That's why I use Lulu, since they have an option to set zero profit and make the links hidden so only fans in the know can get a copy. Other printing sites I've looked at in the past don't have those options. In fact, the first time I ever even thought about printing one of my stories was when I won NaNo for the first time and one of the prizes was a coupon for 3 free printings of your story. HELL YEAH, that's a copy for me, a copy for my beta, and a copy for the artist who made the cover for me. Perfect! But I ended up not using that coupon, because the site required I set a profit margin, and did not have an option to make it private. Ummm, no thanks. Not worth the risk. And even though the profit margin could be set as low as ten cents, I did not want to make ANY money from my fic, because I know that would be breaking Fair Use rules. I found Lulu instead, and decided to let other people get copies too, because I'm nice. And if I don't, it's not like I can stop them from doing it themselves, no matter how much I'd rather they not do that.

But that's not good enough for the Reporting Trolls. Their argument is that it's not possible for it to be completely profit free, since Lulu makes a profit on the printing costs and the shipping carriers make a profit off the shipping costs. Someone is making a profit, and that's unacceptable, even if that someone is not Me, The Person Who Made The Printing and Shipping Worth Paying For.

I would like anyone who thinks that to delete your accounts where you read fanfiction. AO3, Wattpad, FFNet, LJ, Dreamwidth, hell even Tumblr for the short ficlet stuff that only gets posted here. Because even if the website it self isn't profiting, (AO3 for example), the companies that sold them their server hardware made a profit. Since utilities are privatized, the electric company that runs those servers are making a profit. IF YOU PRINT IT ON YOUR PRINTER AND PUT IT IN A 3 RING BINDER, the paper, printer, and ink manufacturers made a profit from your dinky little print out. The companies that build all the parts for your computer or your smartphone made a profit on your portal to the internet, who profits from your monthly subscription, just like your electric company profits from the power it takes to run your pc or charge your phone battery. IT'S A SLIPPERY FUCKING SLOPE, AND YOU NEED TO LEARN WHEN TO BACK AWAY FROM THE LEDGE.

We live in a Capitalist Hellscape, and if a company could figure out how to charge you to breathe and for every single beat of your heart, they'd fucking do it. So get off your goddamn high horses with this "wELL SoMEonE iS makINg PrOFit" bullshit. Or if you truly believe that, shut off every account you own, turn off your utilities, and go live in the woods and make up your own goddamn stories, which you can only share orally to the local wildlife. They give kudos by biting you and giving you rabies.

(not to mention; these assholes don't go after fanartists who are ABSOLUTELY making a profit off their work. but noooo, Flirty can't format a fic for print and allow other people to pay for the printing service and shipping, while never seeing a penny of that herself, despite all of the GODDAMN WORK I HAVE PUT INTO IT, WRITING IT IN THE FIRST PLACE INCLUDED FUCK YOU VERY MUCH. fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufucky--)

#ltleramblings #printed fic

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blouisparadise · 1 month

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Upon request, today we have a rec list of bottom Louis fics where either Louis or Harry has amnesia. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Finding Thoughts | Teen & Up | 6,810 words

"Hi, my name is Louis Tomlinson and I suffer from short term memory loss."

2) Our Love Was Made For Movie Screens. | Not Rated | 8,106 words

Harry wakes up and doesn't know anything about anything and Louis is his omega.

3) Cause I’m Really Not Fine At All | Mature | 13,679 words

Louis Tomlinson, one of the famous members of One Direction, is involved in a car accident that caused him to have amnesia, wiping all the last five years of his life from the memory. The interesting part is he may not remember that he has a girlfriend now, yet his mind seems to think that he has been in a relationship with one of the members, Harry Styles. Harry is baffled and shocked at the situation that's thrown in his face. He finds himself learning how to be a good boyfriend for Louis. It has to be easy.. right?

4) Indestructible | Explicit | 24,243 words

“Hi,” Harry murmurs, and Louis hiccups out a sob. “Hi,” he manages, still clutching onto Harry’s shoulders. Harry’s fingers drift across Louis’ cheeks, and there’s something off about Harry’s expression, but Louis can’t figure out what it is. “I’m okay,” Harry says, and Louis is going to say something to that, even if he doesn’t know what, except Harry’s kissing him. Louis freezes.

5) The Way This River Runs | Explicit | 27,417 words

Louis is provided a chance to start over. He takes it.

6) Deleted Scenes | Explicit | 33,623 words

Agent Harry Styles was injured on the job a few months back, and gets roped in one last mission before he can retire prematurely: playing house with Louis, a widower who has amnesia. The assignment seems simple at the beginning, but soon enough Harry's twisted in a web of his own making, and can't get out anymore.

7) Just A Pretty Boy | Explicit | 35,614 words

The alpha in front of him wasn’t only tall, but used every inch of his body to look even more threatening. He looked as shocked as Joseph felt, in his eyes he could clearly see horror and anger mixed into an odd and painful mix. It was as if he just watched a ghost or a monster from a nightmare come to life. “Louis…” he said with a low voice. It wasn’t a question, he was calling Joseph by that name. The crease between Joseph’s brows deepened. “Who?” Louis and Harry were married until, one day, Louis passed away in a tragic accident. Years later, he is found alive and with a thousand questions plaguing his mind. The most important ones; was his husband involved in his disappearance? And, how long did it take Harry and his best friend to fall in love after his supposed dead?

8) The Things I’d Do To Wake Up Next To You | Mature | 36,109 words

AU. Harry wakes up to a pregnant Louis Tomlinson and a wedding band on his finger.

9) Strangers In Love | Explicit | 42,207 words

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

10) Define Me Again | Mature | 54,385 words

He's never felt so frightened in his life before, so fucking terrified for himself. And Louis. He looked down at their hands, which seemed to have been connected throughout the incident. He looked at the ring on Louis' hand, for the nth time that day. His heart hurt so bad now, he was terrified. He wanted to do so many things, he wanted to check on louis, if he- if he- God he couldn't even think about it. "Louis," he tried to whisper, but nothing but air came out from his mouth. "I love you, Harry," whispered a voice. But it was nowhere near him. Visions attacked his mind, rapidly flickering through like one would do the pages of a book. He was terrified. His entire life literally flashed in his mind, vision growing more and more weak and he fought unconsciousness. Memories and the picture of Louis lying unconscious in front of him altered and flickered, so rapidly that he felt dizzy with how fast his mind was whirring. What happens when you die? God he was so, so, so, fucking terrified. All his senses gave out, last thing he felt was Louis' hand in his and then, everything went black.

11) Flash Back To Me | Explicit | 73,068 words | Prequel

Louis narrows his eyes, wanting more than anything to tell Liam to go fuck himself, but he can’t be sure, is the thing. As much as he knows for a fact that he would never date someone like Harry Styles, he has months missing from his memory. And it’s scary to think that, in that time, everything he’s come to know about himself could have changed so drastically.

12) Consequences | Explicit | 78,556 words

Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up. Sometimes, he even thinks he has. It only takes one moment to freeze them back in time.

13) Invisible String | Explicit | 84,726 words

Louis swears on his life that that man came out of literal nowhere and he thanks each lucky star for having good breaks in his car. This strange alpha also happens to be the most beautiful being Louis has laid his eyes on. For some unknown reason, the omega feels safe around the alpha. It might seem strange, but you can't always explain why or how things are the way they are. All you can really be sure of is that they happen for a reason. There's a higher power (call it what you want) that knows better and definitely knows more than you do.

14) The Dead Of July | Explicit | 117,446 words

Harry is Captain America, and Louis’ been dead for 70 years.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #fic recs #blp fic recs #amnesia

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noowayybroo · 3 months

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Snowed In - Yeti!M!Leon x GN!Reader (NSFW)

Merry LATE Chrimmy guys!!!! HAPPY NEW YEAR GUYS!!! (yeah... that went well) guys the fic is very long so I MARKED THE SMUT IN BLUE JUST SCROLL FOR IT

I was brainrotting with my best friend EVER and I came up with a terrible terrible thing (You're welcome) so hear me out, you're camping out in the snow, looking for, idk, self torture, and suddenly you catch the eye of a certain Yeti...

Long story short, he rescues you... eventually, and warms you up inside! I wanted to make this GN because although I am an F who LOVES F fics, I thought it'd be nice for y'all not Fs out there! I'll try keep it short so there's more chance of me finishing it! EDIT: IT's VERY LONG, JUST LIKE HIM!!!

THIS IS INSPIRED BY THE BRAINROTTINGLY NSFW GAME CLOUD MEADOW WHICH I HAVENT PLAYED BUT I WANT TO PLAY!! iN THE GAME THERE'S A CUTE YETI GUY AND HE LOOKS LIKE LEON A BIT, NO?!???!??!!?

guys I tried to edit this like 2000 times and every fucking time tumblr deleted my edit I am going insane but I pulled through for YOU! (eventually)

Honestly guys i'm not happy with this one it by far isn't my best work so read at your own peril. What I really want is for people to love the idea, not the fic, you know?? xx Pls do something with it if you like it! <3

Characters: GN!Reader, Yeti! Monster!Leon Kennedy

Warnings: NSFW, mentions of penetration, kissing, licking, cuddling etc, cumming iinside toooo, Reader is GN for inclusivity, and I've described the sex as P-in-Hole lol. He fucks you and you imagine where ig. !! Leon is kinda monstrous and not too human, and also in the start he kinda wrecks ur camp and scares the shit outta u so if it'll trigger pls dont read. Leon isn't monstrous he;s just big, furry and a bit primal. Kinda switchy / sub leon so at the start he lets you push him around n then he rails u v hard sooo uhhgjjj and also u have no condom dont be so naughty!!! NOT PROOF READ THERE WILL BE ISSUES OK BUT i CANNAE BE ASKED SORRY

Stay safe n happy this Winter!

"Just picture it! The fresh air! All that snow!" A naive relative tells you, patting you firmly on the shoulder. You stare down blankly at the brochure in your hands, all about a family getaway to a ski resort in some snowy, far off mountains. You didn't doubt them when they told you it'd be a good family exercise, but all you wanted to bond with was your warm bed and all the other things you had to do.

Only a week later, there you were. The sigh you let out dispersed into a cloud of white vapour before your eyes, leaving you to gaze upon your surroundings. Before you sat the exact sight from the brochure you held only a week ago, and it was beautiful. Crisp snow crunched beneath each trudging step, snow-tipped pines line each iced hill and valley as far as your eye could see. No longer mere inky blotches on thick paper - the wind howled past, whistling through each tree, and sending shivers up your over-clothed spine.

You learn the hard way that you won't even have a warm cabin and hearth to laze by during your chilly nights as you follow your family to pick up the camping gear they would be renting. You supposed it'd save money, but at what cost? Pneumonia?

And as you're all setting up camp, you can't help recall being at home wrapped up in your warm covers and revelling in the endless wonders of your Tumblr "for you" page. You also can't help feeling as though you're being... watched, and not by fellow campers in their tents.

"There's nothing out here but adorable rodents and birds!" your guide would exclaim for the fourth time now, in a screech which rivalled that of any of the feathered friends he'd referred to. He means to reassure you, and whilst you'd love to trust what he says with his years of experience in mind, you can't help but doubt him.

Eventually, night falls, and after a good few hours around a make-shift campfire sipping hot drinks of your choice, you and your family finally resign to bed. It's freezing, and despite your warmest sleeping-bag and thickest pyjamas, your teeth chatter and your body shakes. But you're convinced to fall asleep. The sooner you do, the sooner the cold fades away. So, eventually, amidst the wind battering your tent, and night-time ambience, you drift off.

You wake with a start, surprisingly warm, but quickly realise you're alone. Oh no. That's terrifying. After trying (and failing) for a good while to get signal (ever the priority (maybe this is too self-insert)), you crawl out of your tent. The sun hangs high in the sky. You were out for a while. Your sigh of relief must be audible once you find a scrawled note pinned to the makeshift seating surrounding your lit campfire.

"Good morning Sleepyhead!" It reads, and you can tell by the writing exactly who wrote it.

"We didn't want to wake you up so we've gone to get some food! Be back soon! xxx"

Well, at least you knew they couldn't be far away. You're not at all ready for the cold winds that begin to gnaw at your skin again so, groggily, you crawl back into your tent. You stretch, get back into your cocoon, and try once more to get signal.

He'd been watching you for a while now. He watched all the humans at the ski resort as they went about their festive holidays, completely unaware of his presence and he wouldn't have it any other way. Once like you, Leon was just like any other man, or government agent. That was until he encountered a strange virus on one of his missions. Years ago now, the virus caused him to significantly grow in size. He became taller and slightly buffer, and began to grow white fur on most of his body. His hair also became white.

Amused, Leon referred to it as the Y-virus (Y for Yeti) to anyone who'd listen, but, afraid of any negative side effects and any testing, hid away in some distant mountains. If you'd see his face, anyone who knew him might recognise him, and he dared not admit it to anyone, but he enjoyed being free, living off of wild animals and things. That, and, any snacks he could pilfer from unattended camps. He enjoyed his tranquil life, but grew to hate the years of loneliness he'd subjected himself to. As time went on, however, Leon slowly forgot what it was like to interact with other humans. And then, he forgot how to speak well too.

He watched as humans had their holidays, and spent time with friends and family. He was content in the knowledge that you were all happy, and, once the people cleared off, he'd investigate the area to see how far humans were developing, and whether he was still in the papers.

He'd been watching your camp too, and he was certain you'd all left. This was his chance to investigate.

You've been laying on your makeshift bed for a few minutes now when suddenly, you make out the soft sound of trudging through snow towards your tent. The footsteps are slow, but you chalk that up to any exhaustion a human would experience after facing the monster of a hill your tent was precariously placed upon. At first, you think it could be family, until you realise there's only one set of steps. It was probably someone on their way to wherever they were going. Nothing concerning you.

The sound approaches though, each footfall sounding loud, heavy and far apart. You'd think they were just walking slowly, if not for the speed at which the volume of each step increases. Before you know it, a large shadow almost eclipses your tent. A male figure. A tall one at that, and he seems to be about to walk straight through your camp.

Bit unnecessary...

Except he doesn't. The man just stops outside your tent. He looks around a bit. Maybe he needs some help, you think. Groaning quietly, you crawl out of bed, and peep through the unzipped door of your tent-

Tall. Really, really tall. At least 6ft. And you're staring right at his ass. And he doesn't... have clothes on.

Before you stands, quite proudly, something you can only describe as a yeti. He's covered from head to toe in thick, soft white fur. He's broad, muscular, and his waist forms a sharp V as it reaches his hips. Even through his glossy, well kept coat, the definition of each muscle and delicious shoulder blade catches your eye. You're terrified, hoping it's just some sort of elaborate cosplay to scare people. There's definitely space for someone to be hiding inside that... realistic suit. Ducking into your tent, you continue to observe with only one eye peeking from the tent, hoping you won't be noticed.

The man begins to look around, two catlike ears upon his head are perked as he scans his surroundings and eventually, he looks in your direction. He's far too tall to even register you while his eyes are at their level, but oh boy do you register him. You drink in his form, and, as he turns, his face. He's chiselled, certainly a sight for the sorest of eyes. His face is simply the cutest, softest almost feline looking one, and his jaw juts out as he analyses his surroundings thoughtfully.

You know how Leon looks, so I don't need to go into detail about the way his piercing blue eyes reflect the sun, shining through his silver fringe. I don't need to describe to you how his fluffy bangs sway dramatically as he looks around, or how he playfully blows a soft puff of breath upwards to clear some stray hair from his eyes.

Fortunately for you, I also don't need to tell you that he doesn't see you. He seems almost in a trance, stepping around carefully, analysing the tents and each miscellaneous object littered around. It seems as though he's checking up on things- the quality of them, the materials they're made of. He seems curious.

And then you see it, a small burst of flame at his right ankle. He's stepped too close to the fire pit. The yeti lets out a startled grunt, jumping into the air like a petrified cat. His hair bristles and stands on end as he tries to stand one legged in the snow, trying to bury his leg to put it out.

Then he loses his balance, the gargantuan man stumbling forward before suffering an untimely meeting with the guy line of a nearby tent. He yelps, trips, and with a loud thud and a few pings, lands face first in the snow right outside your tent. His collision with the strings holding up your tent sends them pinging out of the soft snow, and suddenly, your tent collapses around you, trapping you in.

Even in weak flails, he'd managed to tear his claws through another tent. You were terrified. What if he saw you?

In his clumsy efforts, the man had thrown quite a large amount of snow into your tent, and you gradually become colder, damper and more panicked as the freezing wet fabric of the tent pins you down. Scared to move, you only shiver as you completely hide inside now, not wanting the abomination outside to find you. You'd seen enough now to be certain that wasn't a costume. He was too... real.

You hear frantic fumbling and crunches of snow as the man outside extinguishes the last of his afflictions. His breaths are heavy, and gradually slow to a calming rate. And, after a while of sitting there still, perhaps shocked, he works up the courage to gaze around at the tents he's toppled. When his eyes at last land on your entirely ruined one, his heart sinks straight to his gut. His shoulder slump and he just stares in your direction, guilty being an understatement. Maybe if he just stares at the tent for a little longer, everything will undo itself, he seems to think, ogling your direction as his mouth hangs open.

Instead, it draws his attention to your shivering form beneath the soaked fabric. He swallows thickly, eyes widening and pupils narrowing.

"Fuck..." he groans meekly, muscles tensing in anticipation before stumbling to his feet. He kicks snow as he makes a series of small, unsure steps towards the tent. Then, in a flurry of inevitable motion, he crouches and throws what's left of your tent off of you. And just like that, with a yelp, your prison of a disguise is torn from you, exposing your skin to the cool, dry air. You shiver, duck away and curl further into a ball. Some small part of you prays for this to be just a nightmare, but the rest of you knows it's very real.

As soon as you hit hit his eyes, Leon falters. He leans back in surprise and his brows furrow in pity and regret. He could tear you apart so easily, and he'd just proved it. Sniffing the air a little, eventually he moves in, reaching out to you with large, clawed hands. He's almost pouting at you, eyes narrowed in concentration as he moves in. All you can do is hold your breath. You ball yourself up tighter. You have no idea how you'll survive this - you're past the point of playing dead. All you can do is stare up at him, silently pleading for mercy.

His hands are warm where they touch you. They're large too - large enough to almost encompass each of your upper arms in their soft grip. He just stays there for a while, gently holding your arms as they shiver. His gaze is locked on them as he focuses, gently adjusting the force at which he holds you, rhythmically squeezing you a little, just to get a feel. His tongue darts out in his focus, and after a while, his eyes are back on yours.

You wondered when your family would be back. You wondered if they could even save you. And then it hit you. You wondered if they'd never be back.

Gently, Leon pries your arms away from your face where you'd shielded yourself so desperately. When I say gentle, well, to him it was. He barely had to exert any force to bend you to his will. You were like putty to him. He could easily overpower you, and he didn't dwell on whether it was down to sheer strength or your fear.

Emotionless eyes scan you up and down a few times, ultimately resting on your face once more as a slow hand wipes your clinging hair from your forehead. Then, he reaches out again. Large clawed hands find purchase under each of your arms. They slide in easily as you comply, not wishing to enrage him. He hoists you up with ease, save a small grunt. Next thing you know, he's standing and you're held at arm's distance from him like a cat. He peers up at you, smiling for the first time. He chuffs, hot breath landing on your face; he seems proud of his catch.

Terrified and uncomfortable, you continue to shake in his grip. All you can do is stare at him pleadingly, and even if you had the willpower, you doubted you could escape him. Your clothes are soaked through now, and if you had to thank him for anything, it would be for warming your arms and not killing you... yet. His blues stalk you through his silvery fringe, and after sniffing your air a few times, he sighs and pulls you in.

You're terrified. You can't look. You squeeze your eyes shut. What if he eats you?? You couldn't even begin to picture it, but after a few seconds of being pressed against his warm body, a gentle caress of your thigh coerces you to open your legs a little to allow him space between them. He grunts, wrapping your legs around his waist and carrying you more supportively now, like a child.

Buried in his chest, you can't see the small awkward smile he gives you, or the look of relief he sends your way as you seem to warm up to him (literally.) Through small rubs and caresses up your back and where he holds you by your thighs, he slowly rubs his warmth into you. Mind so frazzled by fear, all you can really do is let him hold you. You shiver occasionally, afraid of what he may do to you, but otherwise remain still. You don't want to get on his bad side.

After a while of peace, he gently places a finger below your chin, and guides your face up to meet his. He leans in, nuzzles your cheek a little with his nose, and takes a deep breath in. He lingers on you for a while - eyes closing in either bliss or contemplation, before walking once more. He scowls at the firepit as he passes it, beginning to carry you off in the direction he came in.

Where was he taking you? You go a little rigid, now realising you're being abducted. You panic, and it manifests in small squirms, trying to ball yourself up again and push away, levering yourself away from the yeti. You strain against him, and your small noises of fear and exertion perk his ears. He glances down at you tenderly, ceasing his stride to raise a gentle finger to your teary eyes. He swallows thickly and puffs out another deep breath, thinking for a while. He's not at all sure what to do, and doesn't want to risk failing to speak of his own accord, so instead just bounces you softly like a father cradling a child.

You feel warm and cared for, and become distracted wondering if he can actually understand you. However, your surrender was enough compliance for him to continue walking, and he carries on carting you off to goodness knows where. You wouldn't know this, but in truth, Leon was so confused. He hadn't come face to face with a human in years, nevermind one who was so brittle and terrified of him. Somehow, after all these years, he still imagined himself to be the hero, not the monster.

He hadn't intended to face you. He didn't mean to destroy your tent, or to plunge you into the freezing cold... What he'd meant to do was leave you there, before any of that could happen. He'd felt guilty. He wouldn't let his actions affect you and your sweet holiday so negatively. It was decided for him, he was sure he was helping you. He was going to fix things, and warm you up.

The cold and fear had left you weak. You sit in his arms, limp, knowing you couldn't get away even if you'd tried. The gentle rock of his body against yours as he powers through the snow soothes you. His warmth and strong scent clouds your judgement. Before very long, you find yourself snuggling into him somewhat as you watch your camp grow further and further away through tired eyes. He squeezes you gently as he feels you sink into him. One hand rubs up and down your back soothingly. It was ironic, as your captor, how much reassurance Leon was trying to give you.

"C-can you understand me?" You whisper eventually, raising your head to gaze up at the large man's jaw. His ears twitch a little and then he hums. He peers down at you, thoughtfully.

"Hm.. yeah." His voice is gravelly, rough and deep. It's quiet though, like he doesn't use it much.

"You can?!" Your eyes widen and you pull away a little. Leon was becoming quite nervous now. He feared this moment. He didn't want to talk to you at all. He knew he'd fuck up. In response to your question, Leon smiles sheepishly, revealing his sharp teeth. You get straight to the point. "Where are you taking me?"

He frowns and peers down at you. "My... home?"

"Why??" you feel hopeless again. He seemed human enough to appeal to, but then again, you had no idea what he wanted with you.

"...It's warm here" he eventually mumbles as you notice your surroundings suddenly getting a little darker as he carries you into a cave. You'd been so entranced staring up at him, that you hadn't taken in your surroundings for a while. As you do, you notice several random objects lying around. Some looked natural and from the forest like pinecones, sticks and berries. Others seemed very human. Smartphones, newspapers... clothes.

Oh no. You were going to die here.

At least none of the belongings seemed to belong to you or your family... yet. That was still terrifying though. Where was all this stuff from? Some of it was even torn... That's it, you're getting out of here. With a newfound vigour, you begin to claw at his shoulder and back, climbing out of his arms. For a second, it works, until he catches on and wraps his burly hands around your waist, yanking you back down to where he has a good hold on you. He ducks down to look you in the eyes, almost pleading. "Not gonna hurt you." His voice is a soft hum now, claws prodding you as he holds you still.

Somehow, he comes across as quite trustworthy. You couldn't be scared of him just because he's big, not when he's so clumsy and cute. And certainly not when he holds you and watches you as if you were the most precious, sweet individual he'd encountered. It was hard to ignore him, too, with his smooth voice and handsome face, and the careful way he leans over you as he carries you deeper into his cave to shelter you from droplets of condensation.

"Can you please let me go?" you plead.

"I'll take you" he hums, missing the way your eyes widen in shock and confusion. He jostles you up a little to make sure you stay wrapped around his waist and no lower, before eventually laying you down on some soft-makeshift bedding. You're so far into the cave that most of the light from outside is gone. Nobody would find you now, even if they saw the small gas lamp Leon lit beside you. He's about to lay down right beside you when he realises, perhaps, it's not the right thing to do.

Sheepishly, he motions to a spot on his own bed beside you. "Can I?" You have no idea what to say, so, you nod. You were in his home, if you could even call it that, you weren't gonna anger him. You felt as though you needed to make friends with him if you planned on getting out of this alive. And so, as the large man slowly got onto his knees before laying down on his side beside you, it struck you just how "Beauty and the beast" this situation really was. He groaned a little and his joints creaked somewhat as he slowly got down, propping his head up with one hand as he watches you.

Huge was an understatement, and whilst he did have monstrous features and strength, he seemed like the type to at least give you a kind death should he want to eat you-

No, stop. Why are you thinking like that?

You shiver, replacing his amused hum with another thick swallow. His wide eyes scan you.

"Still cold." his lips tug disapprovingly as he watches you lay there, and when you nod, he wraps a blanket around you that he got from goodness knows where. His voice echoed in the small cave, even if he seemed to be whispering now. Leon didn't like causing you fear, but he also didn't like ruining your shelter and warmth, and so, he sought to provide those for you.

You lay there, facing him. Slow and heavy breaths continue to rush over your face, fanning you as he invades your personal space. Yet for some reason, you can't bring yourself to move away. Turning your head momentarily, you eye your camp in the distance. Maybe if you could just get up and run now, you could escape him. Maybe he'd be kind and let you go. You shake again, the cave only rescuing you from the wind, not the biting cold his body provided you shelter from only moments earlier.

Suddenly, his burly arms are back on you. They wrap around you and pull you close, leaving you no space but to open your legs a little for him to get in between. He blankets you in a weighted embrace, head rested in your neck, pressed intimately close. "You're still shivering" He murmurs, silently noticing how your hairs stand on end at his proximity and gravelly tones. You feel his soft fur against your face, between your fingers. You can almost hear his heartbeat.

It's at this point, reluctantly, that you start to allow your attraction to him to manifest. The signs had all been there before as you admired his figure and strength, and basked in his voice. But now, you had no way of escape. You might as well just give in and enjoy the ride. So, you relax against him, wrapping your leg around him again, and letting him give you all of the closeness he can.

Leon knows this is wrong. He, at heart, is still very human, and knows that he should have abandoned you about 20 minutes ago after he destroyed your tent. Heck, he shouldn't have even gone to investigate. But he couldn't fight how good this felt. He couldn't fight the slow boner he was developing as you snuggled up to him so innocently, and he couldn't help wondering what a relationship with a human would be like, after all these years.

He also cant help the small shocked whimper he makes when you move down a little to snuggle up closer to him, and not-so-accidentally press quite firmly against his little issue. His hands seize your waist, threatening to move you, but when you tense in protest, he groans and goes limp, wrapping them around you again. He falls under the impression that if he keeps still, and if he keeps you still, you won't know what's really going on.

It was difficult to keep your morbid curiosity at bay, about fucking a literal Yeti. It was also difficult to not get too attached to the soothing warmth of his shimmery fur and hot skin. His slow breaths and small smile had you in a sleepy trance. You could fall asleep like this and rest. It would be the warmest night you'd get out here, and in all honesty, this was all starting to feel like a nice, cuddly dream.

Too much so.

"What do you want from me?" You lean back to look into his eyes which shoot open. He seems sleepy too. Your presence comforting him more than you could ever know. He stammers a little.

"W.. N- Nothing." he pleads, leaning in to press his forehead to yours. He thinks for a long while, articulating his words. "Just wanna... keep you warm, n safe." he sighs. You're digesting his response when his eyes shoot open in terror as he feels his cock kick against you once. He loosens his grip. This was terrible. He was being selfish. Maybe he should take you home now.

"Are you gonna let me go back?? I have a family out there, please." You whimper, giving him the eyes. He can't say no, he never wanted to hold you hostage. He just wanted to make sure you were ok and-

"Are you warm now?" he huffs, looking down at you to gauge your expression. In all honesty, you were warm, physically and emotionally. He was cute, too cute, and you could tell that he cared. For the first time since you'd met, you almost felt sure that he would actually let you go. And so, you wanted to test him. You pretend to think for a while.

"mmm, no." you smile up at him.

"No??" He seems shocked, running his hands over you to check, nuzzling his nose against your face. "You feel so... warm" he chokes out, eyeing you worriedly. He presses his finger tips to your forehead "you ill?" he grumbles "Where?" His huge hand works its way up and down your body, pressing everywhere he can whilst still being decent, checking for warmth. Then, when he identifies that your leg is a little cool, he wraps his around it.

You stare up at him. The answer is very simple. "Inside." you hum. He short circuits. Leon stares down at you, a faint blush just becoming visible beneath the fur of his cheeks. Inside? What did that mean? How was he meant to warm you up there???

Oh.

Leon stares at you in shock. He swallows thickly, and you decide he's just not sure what you mean, so, you decide to be a little more genuine about it. "Look... I'm... I'm not even sure if this is real. But I've never seen anything like you before and I'm just curious." There's a stunned silence as he eyes you up and down, thinking to himself.

"If you don't want to- it's fine." He wanted to. Oh boy did he want to. He just wasn't sure if it'd be right. He never imagined this day would come. He never thought he'd be able to fuck someone ever again. Leon hums down at you.

"Really shouldn't." those words pop your balloon instantly. You pout at him, but you're willing to take his answer.

"Why not?"

"No condom..." he sighs "Unless you-"

"No."

You both lay there in silence for a while before he crumbles, head falling to reside in the crook of your neck once more. You can tell he's thinking about it- taking you in, soaking into you. He's not felt more content in years. Cuddling up to you, he croons before placing a chaste kiss to your throat.

...Maybe he does want it...

You cover his cheek with small kisses, and sneakily reposition yourself against his throbbing cock. He whines, bucks into you once, and buries his fanged mouth against your skin where he feverishly kisses, trying to hide his sounds. Leon couldn't even admit to himself, let alone you, how pent up he'd been, and now? He wouldn't at all be able to let this opportunity slide.

One of his hands roams your body, sliding down to grip your waist possessively, tugging you hard against him. Then he retreats, realising his mistake. You grab his hand and return it to where it was, earning a playful chuckle and another shy buck of his hips. He runs that hand up your body twice more, watching entranced by the way it glides over your hips and chest, before using it to cup your face. He makes you look up at him.

"You sure?" He's hesitant, a little shaky. You're both very aware that this could end terribly. He could crush you.

"Uhuh.." Just like that, your fate is sealed. He leans in, and pulls you close for a hungry kiss. Expected from a mythical creature, Leon was a walking antithesis: His physical size and strength made him dominant and scary, and yet each of his actions was soft, caring and calculated... and needy. He whines as your lips meet his searing ones. He was so cute, so pliable. You're sure he'd do anything you wanted at this point, and so, testing your luck, you gently grind against him.

He instantly reciprocates, moaning a little as he clutches you tightly. Leon's ears sit flat to his head as he ruts against you, eyes screwed shut, mouth willingly opening enough for you to use some tongue. You've been making out for what, 2 minutes? And the man is already panting, groaning, rock solid against you as he humps desperately. When you slow down on the tongue, he licks eagerly into your mouth too, and moves to pepper kisses and licks all over your cheeks and neck while you catch your breath.

He's so cute, practically begging for you with his mouth but no words come to his aid. Instead, all the gentle giant can do is stare down at you with pleading giant puppy eyes. You want to go further with him. Guiding his hand down towards your sex, you intrust him to ready you. And oh boy does he. He swallows thickly, eyes locking onto you as if you're some mission or target, and he begins to work on you, slowly at first. He groans, cock kicking against you as he licks his lips. Eyes closed tight, kissing you all over, he doesn't even notice you undressing your bottom half until he hears you shimmy the fabric down your legs.

But that's when you feel it too. His hard cock poking out from his coat, slowly drooling copious pearls of precum, smearing his fur. He ruts it against you, the force of his huge hips shoving you so hard that you wrap yourself around him again just to stay put. Suddenly, Leon picks up his pace on you just where it feels best, rubbing with more force and energy than before. Unbeknownst to you, he had a plan. You let out a moan, mouth open wide enough for him to suddenly jam two huge digits in there. It didn't hurt, he wouldn't hurt you, but for a second, you feared for your life.

Even half way in, his fingers had you gagging, choking and drooling. You got them nice and wet for him, and as thanks, they'd be going inside you. Replacing his fingers with his tongue again, he needily whimpers and whines into your mouth.

"Fuck, you're w.. g-great... You're great" he groans, toying with your entrance, eyes shut once more as he grinds into you. He's slow, he understands his fingers are huge, especially by the reaction he didn't mean to elicit from filling your mouth with them, and so, once he breaches you, one finger at a time, makes sure to go slowly. He tries a bit of everything, thrusting, curling them, scissoring you open, all gently until he thinks you can take more.

He fills you so perfectly, so deliciously with just his fingers alone, and he knows what to do even whilst kissing you all over, but you don't dwell on where he got the experience. Leon nibbles a little at your lobe, trapping it gently between his sharp fangs, and moves towards teasing other parts of your throat and shoulder in this way until you begin grinding against his fingers, chasing something more. You snapped out of it a little when you realised just how large his member was. Easily over 7, maybe 8 inches.

And now, he was lining it up with you, holding his breath as he lets it slip, teasing your entrance a few times. It was thick too. The whole thing was just pretty, and due to his strange skin colour, where it would be red and angry it was tinged with a soft purple.

The last thing you see before he stuffs you is his brows furrowed in concentration as he lines himself up. As soon as he slides in, you groan and buck from the stretch of just the first few inches. He shakes, he twitches a little, and he curls up to you, holding you oh-so-dearly. His hips buck shallowly a few times but ultimately he's patient, waiting for the go ahead until he can continue to slowly fill you up. A few shallow thrusts and he works his way deeper, then he gives you a minute or so before repeating.

As bottomed out as he can be, Leon begins a torturously slow pace. He watches closely for you reaction. He's wondering what you like, what you want from him. Eventually, he's groaning with each slow thrust, apparently more edging for him than you. He quickens his pace, leaning over you, propping himself up as he pounds into you a little roughly now. He barely pulls out, each slow roll against of his hips against your sex making you want to cry out.

It's having an affect on him too. Before long, Leon is groaning and growling with each thrust. He's on his knees, body forcing your legs up against your chest as he pile-drives into you. His head hangs by your ear, occasionally nipping and sucking at you, but for the most part, growling like a feral animal. He slows down a little before driving a series of hard, strong thrusts into you with merciless force. Snarling and snapping his jaws, each smack of his hips shifts your body across the bed until he has to grab your ankle to pull you back to him.

He knows you're close, but he wants this moment to last and he's sure you do too. His breath tickles your ear between breathless chuckles, his voice deep and sultry, "H..heh... you ever... ridden a yeti?" As soon as you shake your head no, he purrs. "You want to?"

You nod. He picks you up with ease, temporarily leaving you empty and collapses onto his back. He's quick to fill you to the brim once more as soon as he's comfortable. He groans and throws his head back as you slide down him. And then, lets you work your magic. He groans under you, arms folded behind his head to cushion himself. His eyes follow you, watching you almost predatorily as you bounce on him, and occasionally, his hips snap up to meet yours.

"Fuck, you know, you're so... gnnn... good at this" he whines, trying to force his eyes to stay open so he can watch you.

He bites his lip, bucking up to meet you as his hands reach out for you. They're huge. One feels your body, supporting you, the other holds your ass, guiding you up and down. He smirks, clearly about to make another comment, when you reach down caress his chest, digging your nails into his pecs as best you can. His head falls back and he lets out an almost roar. "Fucckkk" he hums, staring up at you.

You're close again, but you're getting tired. Luckily for you, he understands. Leon sits up, wrapping his huge arms around you. He snuggles into your neck, littering it with growls and kisses as his hips go wild, pistoning into you with a force somehow he hadn't used yet. You were amazed, for such a large man, how hard and fast he could rabbit into your hole. His breaths deep, laboured and lustful as he lost himself in you.

It wasn't long before you were cumming on his cock, gripping his fat length like a vice. He groans, plugging his mouth with your shoulder, but not biting hard. You know exactly what's coming as he adjusts his legs, thrusting hard, almost throwing you up into the air if it weren't for his arms pinning you down to him. His growls and groans shake your core, rutting up in a similar fashion a few times as he pumps you full of his seed. And then he collapses, falling back against his bed. He pants and blushes furiously.

A small grin litters his face, he looks like he's about to pass out as he lays there, eyes narrow and chest heaving. It takes him a while to come down, cock still throbbing and kicking inside you. With how tight you are around him, there's no chance you'll spill a drop before he pulls out.

"Mmmm, fuck" he hums contentedly, hips jostling you upwards a few more times as he carefully reaches up to hold your face. His hand dwarfs your head easily, and he smiles. He's hesitant as he strokes your face. He knows what he did was probably wrong, but it felt so good. It delights him when, as he gently pulls you towards him, you come readily, leaning down to meet his lips.

This kiss isn't hungry or greedy. It's needy and loving. It's an apology, and a thank you, all at once. And when you pull away, his eyes flutter open to gaze lovingly at you.

He sighs, realising his time is up. "Alright, Take you back now, as promised." You're not having it. Playfully, you roll your hips against his and sigh down at him. His cock is half soft inside you now, and still feels great. He stares up at you, confused, ears perked. "What's wrong? Why not?"

"I'm cold outside again..." you pout. He chuckles, leaning up to grab you in a tight hug before laying down once more, this time with you as his captive.

"Well then, allow me to warm you up again."

And that he did.

Eventually you returned to your camp. With Leon carrying you, that is. If he'd given you anything, it was a severe case of jelly-leg.

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guys I just awnna have a little rant at u rn I'm sorry this fic is late and not christmas and Im sorry but I tried to write n edit this like 3 times and each time tumblr deleted my fucking edit im so fucking mad I had internet and I saved it as a draft the works but tumblr was a penis grrrr also, also, the times I edited it like and wrote some I had such good ideas for jokes and puns and things and good writing and now because iM fed up all my good ideas have left me so sorry that this fic is shitty bye thanks for existing ily.

the fic is so long im sorryy i hope you like him

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oleander-nin · 6 months

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Horrortober Day 20 - Captive(Yandere Rottmnt Donnie x Reader)

A/N, not important: This was supposed to be the final fic, but I didn't have one for today and this is my attempt to not delete my account or brain out of stress lmao. Me and @astral--horrorshow both had similar ideas, but they're completely independent of each other. We were both talking about them on discord then realized how similar they were, but neither was taken from the other👍. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Kidnapping, blindfold, needles, dehumanization, collaring, restraints, cage

Words: 2464

Summary: Draxum is working on eradicating the human race, but what happens when his son wants to keep one for himself?

The sounds of metal and cries pierce my ears, the blindfold and binds keep me hogtied and blind, not letting me do much else other than listen to sobs around me. My ears twitch at the sound of low footfalls, the clopping similar to that of a deer or horse nearing. I grimace, knowing the Baron was back. The quiet flapping of his gargoyles could barely be heard over the sobbing from the cage next to mine. I try not to let out a scream of my own at the loud bang of hoof against metal, and a skull against concrete. The sobs quiet, and the air goes still. I slowly let out the breath I was holding, my nerves firing off warning bells as I resist the urge to flail around and cry. It wouldn’t do any good either way. Those who fight back fall first.

Another pair of steps joins the Barons while he makes his rounds. I can sense how everyone else stills, all us captives going completely silent to try and hone in on the new visitor. I couldn’t tell how many of us there were. Anywhere from five to a hundred, I wouldn’t know the difference. I rub my face against the rough floor, hoping to loosen the blindfold so I could finally look at my prison. While there were many of us here, people came in and out every day, taking someone away or adding another to the lot. I could always tell when someone was taken. Their screams reverberated around the walls of our keep, cries and pleads not reaching the ears of whoever took them. I assumed it was the Baron, although I was not sure. It’s not like I could see the act either way.

“Take your pick, my son. It’s time you truly learn my work.”

I grimace at the Baron’s low voice, shrinking back into my cage as much as I can while bound. Of course he has a son. Of course he’s going to be just as rotten as his father, doing who knows what with the poor souls who get picked. My stomach rumbles and I chew on my bottom lip, grinding down on the flesh with my teeth. The blood soaking out may be gritty and limited, but it was better than nothing. I just prayed I wouldn’t puke.

The quiet scraping of free feet across the ground alerts me to the younger captors movements, my face moving towards the sound subconsciously so I could hear it better. A beat passes with no more movement, and I tense. Someone had been chosen. Or, hopefully, he would decide this was immoral and demand our freedom. I chuckle quietly to myself. Yeah right, like that would ever happen. A sharp sound in front of me catches my attention and I turn towards my cage, my face furrowing in concentration.

“That one looks interesting.” An unfamiliar voice muses. His voice is sharp, unwavering, and oddly smooth. It alone was enough to make my blood run cold, but what really terrified me was how much closer it sounded than I expected. I could’ve sworn both of them were in the center of the room, but it sounded as if the voice was right in front of my cage. I shrink in on myself, tucking my chin to my collarbone and sitting on my ankles. Two sharp taps sound on the metal bars of my enclosure, a light chuckle sounding from the boy's chest. It wasn’t a friendly chuckle, nor a comforting one. I try to keep my breathing steady, refusing to cry and refusing to beg. I wanted to go down with dignity. I would refuse to bow to these monsters.

“If that’s the one you want to start on, then so it shall be.” The Baron’s deep rumble sounds, a sharp clap bouncing through the room. The sound of flapping fills the room, heading towards my cage and closing in fast. I sit back, trying my best to not shake. I couldn’t even tell if I was.

“Wait.” The younger voice sounds. He taps my cage a couple more times before I feel a scaly hand brush across my neck, taking hold of my collar and yanking me forwards. I yelp, losing my balance at the tug and falling onto my face before him. I struggle to move back to my kneeling position, the ropes keeping me bound threatening to pull my arm out of its socket if I keep trying. I lay down, defeated. I couldn’t get up. A deep heat settles in my cheeks from the shame of being at his mercy, and I can almost hear the smile in his voice at his next words. “I have a different idea for them.”

“Oh?” The Baron asks, his footsteps nearing as well. I try to pull back from the grasp the younger captor had on me, but his grip just shifts from my collar to my chin. “What are you planning then?”

“I want to keep this one. For my own personal studies. I can experiment on that one,” There’s a brief swish of the air when his hand undoubtedly moves to point at another poor soul in the vicinity. “But this one… I want to keep them.”

I hear a sharp breath from the Baron, his tone turning sour. “Donatello,” ah, so that was his name. I try and tug back again to no avail, my eyes widening under the blindfold as I realize he only has three fingers. “You cannot keep a human. They’re pigs. The rot of the world. You must understand that.”

I’m tempted to bite the fingers holding my face when I hear this, indignant anger bubbling in my chest. We weren’t the ones kidnapping people and caging them to experiment on. Sure, there’s a few bad apples in every batch, but you can’t doom the whole of humanity for a small handful’s doing.

The younger voice huffs, his thumb caressing my cheek. It was getting harder to hold back, every instinct screaming at me to pull back and run. “Still, why that may be, I think it would be interesting. Test their limits, experiment in different ways.” I can almost hear the sick smile in his voice. “Plus, it’s always nice to have company.”

“Do you even understand what goes into keeping a human? They’re very needy creatures. Not to mention clingy and violent. You’ll be responsible for its upkeep.” I feel sick the way they're talking about me, the hands of the scaled one still having yet to leave my face. He lifts my chin more and forces me to face him, my body screaming in protest from the position he was contouring me in.

“I do.”

The Baron sighs in defeat at his son’s words. I hear him take a step back, his voice steady as he walks away and starts to audibly mess with another cage. “Then I’ll allow it.”

I hear the screams of what sounds like a small child and my heart breaks, knowing slightly of his fate. While part of me was glad I had escaped it, I still yearned to switch places. Hearing someone so young scream in such ways was unbefitting. It wasn’t right. I feel the hand of the younger captor slip off my face, my own cage opening with a loud squeak. Strong hands hoist me up, fiddling with the ropes around my ankles and wrists. My two halves separate, my ankles freed from my wrists, but still stuck together as were my wrists to each other. I get slung over his shoulder, his muscle mass and metal backpack digging painfully into the soft of my stomach.

I consider trying to fight back, to even finally scream and curse them out, but I don’t. Every step he took sent his shoulder straight into my gut, and I knew it would be useless to try and resist. He seemed solid, and his shoulders reminded me of jagged rocks as they push against my torso. I try to shift myself into a more comfortable position, my body rocking hazardously in his grip. For one awful, awful moment, I’m certain he’s about to drop me, but his hands regain their steadiness as he tightens his grip to a painful degree.

“Move again and I’ll send you off to be experimented on instead.” He hisses, his voice as sharp as always. I settle down more, trying to ignore the painful lab of his arm.

He continues to walk for a while, his steps firm and sure. I wasn’t sure where we were going, nor what my true purpose was. This was out of the blue and completely unexpected, especially from someone who was supposed to be experimenting on me. I hear a door open and let out a small cry as I’m thrown atop a plush bed. I sit up, shaking my head to try and chase the disorientation away. A hand grabs my chin and holds me still, pulling the blindfold off of my eyes. I quickly close my eyes, shrinking back with a pained hiss. I’ve had the blindfold on since I was first kidnapped, covering my eyes and blocking my senses for weeks. I slowly open them, trying to get them to adjust to the new lighting. Once they can open, I glance around, taking in my surroundings as fast as I can.

It was a large room, one larger than I was expecting. There were different mechanical parts and machines strewn across the room, as well as a desk piled high with similar junk. I look in front of me, finally fully seeing my captor. He was only a couple inches taller than me, but his foreboding stature made him intimidating nonetheless. I scan him for a moment, my eyes taking in his green scaly skin and the metal shell upon his back. I lean backwards, wary of his domineering nature. He seemed to command respect, as if it was owed rather than earned. I felt no desire to give it to him.

“Why am I here?” I ask rudely, my tone clipped and eyes narrowed. The turtle doesn’t seem phased by my attitude, if anything, he was delighted.

“I’d suggest you’d hold your tongue. As lovely as your voice is, I do admit I have a short temper.” He walks across the room and picks up a small case, like he had been preparing for this for a while. “And I’m sure you would rather your tongue stay inside your mouth.”

I shift uncomfortably at his words, trying to decide what to do. I watch him carefully as he takes the case and opens it, four needles showing. My eyes widen at the sight as I back up on the bed.

He takes out the first needle and grabs a small vial from a miniature fridge next to him, getting the shot ready. “If you have any allergies, speak up now.”

I barely register his words, my eyes focused solely on the large needle in his hand. “What is that?”

“A couple of vaccines and boosters. It’s come to my attention that most of you have not had proper shots nor care, and while the others don’t matter, you do since you’ll be living here now.” He stalks forward with the syringe in hand as if he did this every tuesday, not a care nor concern on his face. I try to lean back, but he grabs me firmly by the elbow, not allowing me to move away. “I’d suggest you stay still and relax.”

I turn away from him, my heart thundering in my ears. I feel him inject the first into my arm, the sharp sting making me want to jerk away. It feels like hours, but he eventually lets go of my arm and backs away, disposing of the needles and setting the syringes back in their case.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” He starts, turning back to me. “It’s time we get started.”

“Who are you?” I interrupt, my mind hazy from the adrenaline coursing through after the shots he administered. He frowns at my interruption, his face pulled tight.

“I don’t like being interrupted. But, as you’re a human with no manners, I guess I can’t fully fault you. You haven’t learned the rules yet.” The turtle clears his throat, bowing with a dramatic flair. “I am Donatello, your new owner and savior. You, however, may refer to me as ‘Sir’ or ‘My Savior’.”

My nose scrunches up at his introduction, a chill running down my spine. My arm was sore, and my head was blaring warning bells left and right. This guy was seriously messed in the head. Well, of course he was. I was part of a group of humans he and his dad had kidnapped to experiment on.

“So, pet-”

“Not my name.” I interrupt, partly without meaning to but not fully regretting it. I refused to be called ‘pet’.

“Did humans never learn it was rude to interrupt or speak back to their superiors? Or is this just a you thing?” He hisses, clearly displeased. I shrug. My non-answer seems to anger the terrapin even more, his fists clenching at his sides. “As I stated before, I saved you. If it weren’t for me, you’d be cut open on a table with your guts spilled out. And while I would gladly return you to that fate, I felt it would be a waste to use someone like you in that manner-”

“Someone like me?” I interrupt again, tilting my head in confusion.

“Would you cut that out!?” He hisses, his face turning dark in anger. I shrink back, pursing my lips. I didn’t really want to anger him. I didn’t trust him. He continues to glare at me as he straightens his back. “As I was saying, you have something about you that I felt needed to be preserved. Therefore, here you are now. Serving as my pet rather than an experiment. And mind you, I’ll call you whatever I please.”

I glare at him, trying to pop his head open with my mind. Unfortunately, no such thing happened, and he continued to drone on.

“So, pet, I have something for you.”

He turns around and grabs something off his desk. I recognize it immediately, the bright collar jingling the bell as he moves closer. I try to lean back but he quickly hooks the offending item around my neck, his eyes and markings glowing for a moment as he holds the two pieces together. I rub at it with my chin, scowling. “There you are pet. Now you’ll never forget your place.”

It takes everything in me not to spit on him.

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