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asheurbanipal · 3 months ago

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Hand in Unlovable Hand

Ao3

Summary:

It's a century after the events of the game. An Ascended Astarion and his most beloved spawn are now installed in the Crimson Palace, spawn flooding the walls of Baldur's Gate. The Vampire Lord rules with an iron fist, his consort in hand. Oh how mighty he must be to pull the leash of a child of Bhaal, of the once hero and terror of Baldur's Gate who destroyed the elder brain, who ended the grand design. Unless...he's not the one who actually wears the collar....

Baldur's Gate 3

Ascended Astarion/Resist Durge

Explicit

Words:2,873

One-shot

Content: Toxic Relationship, dub-con, reference to sexual violence, they're fucking villains y'all

I’m not sure that Astarion ever loved me. Not really. Not in any way that mattered. I would come to learn that love, true love, the kind that dragged its victims into death, was soft and delicate. Slow. We had simply never had the time. He had only just learned to walk in the sun when I found him on the beach. He was free of restraints for only as long as it took him to carve the infernal poem into Cazador’s back before he’d surrendered himself to a new master of his own making. I was born fresh anew from the tank on that nautiloid. I had only just regained my memories of my place in Bhaal’s service before I offered myself, naked, to Astarion’s will. Only just became myself again before giving it all away.

I might have loved Enver once. In whatever way I was capable of such things in those days. I felt a strange halo of…something…when I met him for the first time again at his coronation. Even when the flashes of my life returned, the weight of the more nuanced emotions behind them were overshadowed by rage at Orin’s betrayal. He was dead before I had the chance to relearn my feelings for him.

And by then, I was Astarion’s, body and soul, and nothing else mattered.

“Lover. Where have you got yourself to? Not out and about, I hope.” Astarion’s voice is sharp but lilting as it drifts up through the floors and corridors of the manor. Somehow I can always hear him no matter what. I don't understand the magic, but I accept it.

“The balcony, darling.” It was an early addition to the Crimson Palace, a prominence off our shared bedroom from which to watch the city below. We were the first vampires to ever be able to take in the sun, and Astarion wanted to revel in it. For the first few decades, he would stand at the railing every sunrise, imposing his presence across the roofs of the city. The habit fell off when the city no longer needed reminding. Now it’s usually me that haunts it, tracing the patterns of the stars as they weave around the moon.

Astarion’s hands drop around my shoulders then over my bare chest. His lips and the teeth underneath trace down my neck ever so slightly. He’s sticky with someone else’s insides, and I feel it drip down my back. His body presses closer, feeding his soft hands down into my calloused ones.

“Waiting and naked. Just as I prefer.” His voice slithers and creeps, wrapping through me like catgut thread and cutting my insides apart. He says “prefer,” but after close to a century I know it’s “expect.” I can get away with being clothed to some degree, but were I not home when he expected me, I’d see some time locked away in a small dark place. It was something to Astarion’s credit that confinement is the best he can come up with when pressed. He doesn't have the guts for an actual beating or general bloodletting, and delegates such things if it's ultimately required. Killing, yes. He's quite fond of that, of course. It’s an easy way to be rid of problems. But death is barely a punishment. That’s something quickly learned with a father like mine.

“Not completely,” I say, plucking at the square blanket I’ve laid across my lap to spare the public below from my indecency.

“All the better. That way only I get the best bits.” One hand lifts from mine and ducks under the throw, going straight for the most sensitive part of me. I let him stroke up the length of me a few times, both of us knowing that it's little more than a greeting, not the prelude to anything more intimate. Not yet, anyway. The night is still young. It always is.

“I have a present for you,” Astarion whispers.

“Is this a before or after bath present? Because yours is ready.”

He perks in delight, then draws his lips against my ear.

“You always do know how to treat me, pet. Come see what I’ve brought you.” His hand trails along my shoulders as he moves back into the bedroom, leaving behind a streak of hellfire along my skin.

I already know what’s waiting for me as I pull a loose robe over my body, something I keep nearby for when my lover-master has been given his due greeting. The "gift" is certainly a pretty thing, long ginger-blond hair pulled up above his ears and dark horns stark against his dusk-red complexion. He’d been placed on the bench at the end of the bed, and he’s laced his fingers around his calves, knees brought up to his chest, tail wrapping around his crossed ankles. When he sees me, he moves to his feet, hands touching each other over his belly. His neck stretches, chin tilting down. He’s got the pale impression of old bite marks. Most of Baldur’s Gate does, at this point

“Lord Consort,” he breathes, voice deep despite its volume. The sound of water and a gentle, bereft humming suggests I can talk to him freely without Astarion bothering to eavesdrop.

He’s my gift after all.

“I understand the appeal of being a vampire’s favorite meal, but it was a piss-poor idea getting yourself picked up by on of the foot soldiers. You had to know they’d bring you to the palace.” And people don't leave from the palace so easily…at least not the same as they came in.

“I thought I might secure myself an actual status of some sort. I’m starting to regret it, I’ll admit.” He looks around uneasily, but his body relaxes. That’s not entirely uncommon. When I speak to them like an equal they think I see them as one.

“What’s your name?” I ask. His eyes flash wide in surprise. Whoever gave him those healed scars hadn’t bothered with names.

“Lokezer. Lok.”

I step forward, and touch his chest, gesturing him back down on the bench. There’s wine in the cabinet, and I find us something of a reasonable vintage for the occasion. Astarion is more natural at this part, but I make due with memorizing a list.

“If you’re looking to become a consort to a foot soldier…well...I wouldn’t recommend it, for one. They’re animals. But I can provide some advice.” I hand him a glass, and he takes a sip without questioning it.

“I had my sights set higher, actually.” Lok gazes around. “This room. I had hoped to see it someday.” He takes another sip. I haven’t had any of mine, and I set it back down on the table behind me.

“If you think to get the attention of our Lord Astarion-“

“Not exactly.” It’s not a coy voice. Not seductive like spawn have grown accustomed to using. More matter-of-fact. I watch him stare at me over his wine glass for a moment.

“Most people do well to avoid me all together.” In the early decades I was out among them in our city of spawn, an extension of Astarion’s hand around the heart of his people. Then I grew tired of being someone else’s knife and not my own. Tired of holding

back for the sake of our own grand design. Tired of existing as a ghost of what I was truly capable of.

“There’s a rumor,” Lok says delicately. “That the reason the living still exist in the numbers they do along the sword coast is because of your influence.”

Now this is interesting. Abandoning my glass entirely, I sit on the bench next to him, maybe a hair’s breadth from the heat radiating off Lok’s body.

“I’m not much for books or poetry. But I’m practical. If we fill the world with spawn, who will we eat? Astarion can see the truth in the pragmatic when presented.” The whole truth is trickier. More complex. Astarion doesn’t actually know how to plan and scheme in the long term. He’s driven by passion and lust. For two-hundred years, every waking moment was assigned to him. Despite his desire to rule the world with a vampire army, he didn’t actually know how when granted the power to do so. He still doesn’t. I do. I was the architect of both the rise and destruction of the Netherbrain. For better or ill, the state of the city and much of the coast is greatly in part my doing, in the end. Astarion just has the physical power and charisma to execute on my plans.

Lok glances down through the dark red of the wine, through the glass, to the floor at the end of the bed, staring a hole that could tear the castle in half.

“My great grandfather said he knew you. Before all this.” He gestures with his thin, clawed fingers. I cast over him. How many of the grove tielfings settled in the city? How many of them would have stayed instead of fleeing immediately once the spawn started flooding it? I can only think of one.

“Is Rolan still alive?” I ask.

“He died a few years ago.”

“That’s a shame. I liked him.”

“He said that you offered to make him a spawn.”

I feel my chest tighten. Even all these decades later, I remember the conversation clear as sunshine on the waterfront. I was trying to offer him a way out as the city began to turn. He could have been an early addition to the army. A senior foot soldier. He said he’d rather die. I told him I could oblige him that way, too, whenever he wanted. It was my specialty, after all; he only need say the word. It was the last I spoke to him in person. When he retired ownership of Sorcerer's Sundries, I lost track of him completely. I didn’t even know he had a familial line, much less that they remained in he city. He should have left when he had the chance.

“So curiosity got the better of you?” I ask. “You wanted to see the real monster at the heart of everything, and you were willing to risk getting drained for it?”

“I risk getting drained walking to the fruit stand too close to dusk. It’s part and parcel of living here. And even if I had the money to leave and start somewhere new, what’s to stop me from being dragged into the hells or turned into a mindflayer or ripped apart by shadow creatures? At least here, the danger is consistent, and I’ve gotten at least one chance to look my tormentor in the eye before I die.”

A sound of draining water suggests that Astarion is done. Our time alone is short. I snap his jaw up in my hand, turning his face to me forcefully.

“Your body’s going to be used in some way or another tonight, Lok. You had to know that.”

“I did…” he admits softly.

“Then I’ll give you a choice. Quickly now.”

He gasps, gulping through his long neck.

“I don’t want to die. And I don’t want to be a spawn. Not yet. I want more time.”

“Alright.” And I grip his jaw tighter in my fingers.

“Oh!” Astarion’s surprised voice is sharp in my ear, cracking the tension. “I just assumed I’d come out to guts scattered across the floor.” I feel Lok clench tight under by hand.

“Oh, he’s too pretty for that,” I coo. “And he worked so hard to get this far. I thought I might play with him for a bit then kennel him. As long as you’ll permit it?” Astarion flutters to the bed, robe barely tied, exposing every beautiful line as he sits.

“Of course, dearest. What kind of gift would it be, otherwise?”

A pretty typical one for him, honestly. He lives to give just to take again. This time he seems more sincere. Lok’s deep brow grows tight, tense. Desperately questioning. Poor thing really thought there was some kind of softness in me. I appreciate the vote of confidence, at least.

I’m not gentle on Lok. His optimism inspires me to at least try, at the start, to see if it's something I'm capable of. I know I must have been at some point, but whatever was left of that is gone. Long gone.

He isn’t torn apart, at least. I let him live, allowing him that requested privilege. And he’s only actively bleeding from the puncture wounds on his neck and chest. The bruises won’t start showing up until tomorrow, and the one I thrust into the back of his throat is mild, at best. I even let Lok rest on the bed afterward, allowing him to curl up at the foot of it.

“You held back,” Astarion sighs into my chest, hands running down my sides, kissing and nipping at my flesh. He likes to start slow, build up, pretend for a short while we’re something different than what we are.

“I’d like to get some uses out of him, but he seems more delicate than most. I don’t want to ruin him too fast.”

“Hm, you’re so clever.” He drops lower and sinks his teeth into my proffered inner thigh. I push the groan of pleasure down. Make Astarion work for it. He pulls back after a few quick drags, letting me free bleed on the bed as he lifts up to straddle me. “He made rather a scene when the foot soldiers brought him to me. Prostrating himself. Begging. ‘It would be my greatest honor to give my body in service to the Lord and his dread Consort.’ Cute as a button.”

“You usually drain them on the spot when they do that.”

“They don’t typically offer themselves to you, as well.” He crunches another bite into my shoulder, enjoying the feeling of a deep muscle puncture. I trace my fingers down the length of his spine slowly as he drinks in more of me.

“So you wanted to see why. I get it. I’m afraid it’s not something terribly interesting. Just a touch of morbid curiosity. He's an odd little thing.” I think, truly, that he came here to die, but when faced with the practicalities of death, he recoiled. Retracted. Regretted. But a bit of mystery will keep Astarion from getting bored of having him around. Astarion pulls away, again, dragging my own blood across my body as he bends his face to my chest.

“You’ll have to tell me when you’re done with him. He’d make a rather delightful spawn, I think. Pretty to look at. Eager to please.” Astarion hums in consideration.

“Maybe. I’ll break him a bit, and find out.”

“I look forward to it.” This time he doesn’t bite, just lays his body across mine as though he were listening to a heartbeat I don’t have. “Why did you let me turn you?” His fingers dance across my clavicle.

“Because I love you,” I respond automatically.

“Yes, yes, of course.” He taps a bloody finger to my lips. “You could have left. You could have forced me out. All while still loving me. Yet you kneeled.” I sigh. He was going to use some manner of torture or another to get this out of me, and he was going to start with pouting. I would have preferred he go straight to sending me to the flayer.

“I knew that once we got the tadpoles out, I would still be a child of Bhaal. I’d never really be free from him. I’m literal flesh of his flesh. So why not charge someone else with the keeping of my body?”

“You could have been free.”

“Maybe. Maybe I don’t really want to be free. Maybe I don’t know how to stand on my own two feet. Maybe I just prefer to be the vassal of someone I choose. Someone I love.”

“You do still love me,” he says.

“Of course,” I reply. Neither of us are sure if these are statements or questions.

After a few more deep bites, he pushes my knees to my chest to take what he wants from me. He isn’t gentle. He never is. It’s what I want. What I deserve. What I demand of him, my master. But for all his bite and snap, there always comes a pivotal moment. When on the rise to ecstasy, his knife pauses at my belly. When he hesitates to sink it into my flesh no matter how I beg for it. He sets the blade aside under some pretense of disinterest or denial of my pleasure. Pretends its his will that my innards remain in their home. The truth is he can’t do it. He never will. Because he never actually does his own dirty work. He hasn’t the stomach for it.

His sadism will never match my masochism.

And in that gap is where the truth lies. He needs me more than I need him. And when I’m done being his, when eternity grows too long, too stretched…I will simply end it all.

If I’m kind, I’ll take him with me.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #ascended astarion #astarion x durge #durgstarion #durge x astarion #fanfiction

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dyxtd21 · 5 months ago

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The Ancient Attainment

(Chapter 1)

(Monday 1st, June, 20XX, 9:30 am)

It was a busy morning, normally due to the local citizens of Gotham waking up and heading to work or their summer jobs, whatever they had but not in the case of Pyrope.

For you see, Pyrope wasn't a human. He was a gemstone, a sentient one, in fact. Pyrope stood at the height of 6'6", which many claim he could be a basketball player, but Pyrope only brushed their comments off and away.

Anyway, Pyrope's whole colouration was a deep red, fitting for someone whose occupation is a lawyer, giving the phrase "Hot-shot lawyer" a literal meaning. Pyrope dons a red pinstripe suit, with his upper buttons, unbuttoned, revealing his ceylon-cut pyrope gemstone on his chest area, which twinkles in anticipation. In addition, he had his red coat casually draped over his shoulders, blowing in the wind but never flying off his shoulders.

Moreover, Pyrope was blind and thus, he wore a red blindfold over his supposed eyes, and he never took it off, ever.

As for his personality, well, he was stoic, calm, and composed. He believes that justice should be above anything else and if they disagree, well...Pyrope would result in his plan B: A fight.

For you see, actions speak louder than words, and in the case of Pyrope, he'd have to agree with that statement completely. Even though he was blind, Pyrope wasn't weak. He could easily take care of himself, just like that fellow...what was his name again? Matt Murdock? Yeah, that bloke.

Pyrope met him once. He respected Mr. Murdock as Mr. Murdock respected Pyrope back. It was nice to meet someone as blind but strong as Mr. Murdock.

However, Pyrope snapped out from his past memories and 'overlooked' Gotham City from his window from his own private office. Even though he didn't have his sight, Pyrope could still use his other senses. His touch, smell, hearing, and taste senses.

He could touch the glass, he could smell the scent of smoke from outside his office, he could hear as his colleagues talked and laughed outside from his office and he could taste the wonderful and expensive flavor of red wine and rosè, even without taking a sip of those drinks.

Pyrope had little pleasures. His list would look like this:

Justice.

His romantic partners (Zebra Jasper and Ametrine)

Red wine and Rosè.

He was a man or, rather, a gemstone of simple things. He didn't want things that were too grand and extravagant. He liked them all too simple.

A knock was heard on Pyrope's office door.

Pyrope, with a stoic but authoritarian voice, spoke up.

"Come in."

Mr. Kevin Smith, a colleague of Pyrope's, opened the door and came inside Pyrope's office, closing the door behind him in the process. Pyrope turned his gaze, calmly, towards Kevin.

"May I ask what brings you into my office as of today, Mr. Smith?" Pyrope inquired politely. This was another unique and different feature about Pyrope, with the expectation of his appearance. Pyrope is always polite, even when he's supposed to feel anger, sadness, or fear. However, Pyrope didn't show those emotions (because he can't) and instead replies and deals with a calm and polite manner.

"Well, Mr. Pyrope... I got this invitation from the one and only Mr. Bruce Wayne, the millionaire playboy and CEO of Wayne Enterprises." Kevin replied back to Pyrope's question.

Bruce Wayne? Pyrope knew and heard of Bruce, but he thought little of Bruce as possible. Not because Pyrope didn't like Bruce, but because he honestly didn't have any thoughts about Bruce, but Pyrope knew one thing about Bruce: He had a secret.

"Is that so? And where has he invited us and what for? Pyrope inquired politely yet again.

Kevin started to fidget with his thumbs nervously before replying back to Pyrope's question.

"Well, h-he invited us at his Manor for a charity event he's doing tonight."

Pyrope could sense that Kevin was nervous but didn't know why.

"May I ask why you're nervous, Mr. Smith?" Pyrope asked kindly.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm just nervous because we'll be meeting Mr. Wayne at his Manor, that's all." Kevin replied a bit too quickly and pretended that he was fine, even though he wasn't, which Pyrope could sense this but didn't push about it.

"Alright, if you say so, and thank you for telling me about the invitation, Mr. Smith. It means a lot. Now, I shall head outside for...observational duties." Pyrope stated, turning to pick up his red colored cane, which was leaning against his desk. After he did so, he walked towards his office door, with his red cane in his left hand and with graceful steps, but before he could exit through it, he heard Kevin's voice speak up behind him.

"Good luck out there, Mr. Pyrope."

Pyrope turned his gaze towards Kevin and simply stated: "I am married to luck. It will always be by my side."

Finally, Pyrope exits through his office door, leaving Kevin alone in his office.

#gemsonas #my ocs #dc #batman #bruce wayne #The Ancient Attainment #fanfic

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j-charles · 1 year ago

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Coming out/Bella Ramsey

pairing : Bella Ramsey (they/them) x Fem!Oc (She/her)

Summary : Bella and Addie (Adelaide) met at Prince William's charity event. Bella obviously had a crush on Addie, and three months after meeting, they decided to confess their feelings to them love.

Warning : -18! (I've tried)

!!! reminder !!!! I'm a french writer, i've not a perfect english, i'm sorry if i make some mistakes. I want improve my english, so u can tell me when i'm wrong, to help me.Thank u <3

The sun rises on London, especially over Windsor Manor. Addie wakes up with her face lit up by the orange autumn sunshine. She had fallen asleep without closing her curtains, her lips stretched into a smile and with the last sweet spoken to her by her friend Bella.

"Have a good night babe, see u tomorrow <;3"

Every time they use this nickname, the Addie's heart beats very fast, as if it were about to pass through her chest. She finds this weird, 'cause...her and Bella are friends, just friends. No ? In fact, she dunno, she is lost in her feelings and she don't have the brave to talk about it with Bella. Sometimes she feels physically attracted to her friend. Sometimes she fantasises, imagining the brunette's thin lips resting tirelessly on her neck, while her hands roam over her body and-

"- Fuck Adelaïde, are u crazy ? argh...She say to herself. Bella likes u as a friend, nothing more. And u are the Prince William's cousin, u can't be with someone who physically looks like a girl. U can't damage the reputation of the British royal family. Bella are your best friends, and you'll be spending Halloween together."

She take a breath. She has to finish the wings of her fairy costume before the film afternoon.

On their side, Bella takes care of decorating the living room. A pumpkin garland above the TV, a blanket on the sofa, and even skull-shaped nutella cookies. This afternoon turns out to be stressful, even if Bella knows that Addie has a certain code to follow and especially that she may not be attracted to them. They can't longer hide from her what they feel and repress their desires.

When they are together, Bella never knows what to think. The tension is palpable, she is constantly dying to find out more, to run their hands over her pale skin to the most intimate corners.

They want to reassure her, comfort her, visit countries with her, they want to be able to love her and cherish her freely. But, the girl didn't seems gay, or anything like that. Sometimes, she talks about a boy in her school, maybe it's her boyfriend...

Whatever if they risk losing her, they have to be honest and face reality. If Addie doesn't share these feelings, they could move on and stop hurting them by loving her on the sly.

Today is THE day, and if there is a God, maybe things will work out in Bella's favour.

"U open the dore?"

"I'm coming babe"

Adelaide's heart began to pound in her chest, and a smile spread across her face as Bella opened the door for her.

"- Hi ! She says

-Hi babe !

-What are you hiding?

-A surprise, give me a hug and maybe you can see it!

Without waiting another minute, Addie threw herself into her friend's arms.

-Ho Bella! thats so cute...

With tears welling up in her eyes, Adelaide took hold of the bouquet of flowers that her friend had hidden behind them back. And so that they wouldn't notice her tears, she headed for the sofa.

Bella, on the other hand, headed for the kitchen with pink cheeks. They collected the tea and biscuits, before joining the blonde on the sofa. While the latter made sure to settle down at a safe distance, Bella sat down next to her, leaving a tiny space between their two legs.

Tension was already building between the two teenagers. The film they had chosen the day before - Scream 1 - had just started. And Addie forced herself to watch the screen, not to be distracted by her friend, whom she found very attractive in that pirate costume.

Bella meanwhile, can't help staring at the blonde and noting every detail of her face. They found her cute, her and her shifty gaze. Her rosy cheeks give Bella hope and without thinking about it they brush against their opposite's hand to get her attention.

"- What are you do-

She stops talking when her friend gazes into hers. In an instant, the attraction becomes even more oppressive and it is the actors who will give in first. They place a furtive kiss on the lips of their beloved, before observing his reaction.

- Sorry they blow

- Don't.."

Driven by the now certain feelings that inhabit her, the Windsor girl leans confidently to respond to the kiss. It will be longer, their lips move together and shy moans escape from this moment of happiness.

"- I want more

- Me too"

A few minutes later, the film turns and finds itself without spectators. Indeed, once the duo got rid of the troublesome fabrics, the pretty blonde, complexed by her extreme thinness, sighed with pleasure under Bella's tongue movements, their face buried between her thighs.

But the displeased brunettes go up to kiss the shy girl:

"- I want to hear you "

While pronouncing these words, they introduced two fingers. Before starting any movements, they decided to use their thumbs to continue stimulating her clit.

Bella watched with rising excitement as Addie's face twitched in pleasure at her actions.

"- More pls" She whispers

Under the request, they began to move their fingers, always attentive to the uncontrollable expressions of their love. But when the blonde began to moan audibly, the excitement was such that they plunged their faces into her while accelerating their movements.

"-Ah~ Bel...please...."

In a last effort, Adelaide let the ball of pleasure that had formed in her lower abdomen explode. And it was seeing the girl shaking with gasping breath that their orgasm came in turn.

To be continued....

Thank you for reading, give me your opinion and help me improve. Have a good night !!

#bella ramsey #tf2 #scream #pedro pascal #bellaxfem!oc #the last of us #bella ramsey fic #oneshot

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nicolettesdreamworld · 2 months ago

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Blue and lilac: Season 1: Chapter 2

As is customary, the first ball of the season is Lady Danbury's ball. That is one of the reasons why it has been busy at the Danbury house. The servants were going back and forth, Lady Danbury was overseeing everything from the flowers to the food. Nicolette on the other hand found a bench in the more silent corner of the garden and took advantage of the situation to write. She has always loved writing. It was an outlet for her. Whenever she didn't know how to feel or what to think, she found that putting her thoughts on a piece of paper helped. Now she was in a completely unfamiliar environment, with people she had never met. The only people she knew were Lady Danbury and The Duke of Hastings, Simon. And Benedict of course. She almost asked Lady Danbury if the Bridgertons were to be in attendance tonight but quickly banished the thought as she was sure that Lady Danbury wouldn't stop before she found out why is Nicolette suddenly interested in the Bridgerton family.

Later that day Benedict was sitting in the Bridgerton drawing room sketching in his notepad. He wasn't even paying attention what he was drawing when he realized that the gentleman he was drawing wasn't gentleman at all. It was her. Her hair hidden under her hat and the shirt too big on her. He couldn't stop thinking about her. She intrigued him. He wanted to get to know her. Not in a romantic way, he felt like she would make the most interesting friend. He looked at Eloise who was sitting besides him and he noticed that she was trying to sneak a peak at what he was drawing. He looked around and when he realized that the coast is clear he spoke.

"I made a friend yesterday," he said as he closed his notebook.

"A friend?" Eloise asked.

"Yes a friend. Can I not have a friend?" Benedict raised his eyebrow.

"Well yes you can but why would you feel the need to inform me about having a friend?" Elois chuckled.

"Because she is the most interesting creature I have ever laid my eyes upon," Benedict breathed out.

"She?" Eloise frowned. Bęnedict opened his notebook and showed it to his sister.

"She.. Apparently she likes to dress up as a men and go to the gentlemen's clubs," Benedict explained.

"You must introduce us!" Eloise squeled.

"Shhh, we don't want mother or Anthony to hear," Benedict shushed her.

"What is her name? Ohh she would make the most interesting friend," Eloise ignored him.

"I do not know. She never told me her name. But I think she might be a part of the ton. I am almost certain that I will be able to recognize her if I see her tonight," Benedict said looking at the sketch he drew.

"I can help you look for her," Eloise said.

Eloise wasn't out in society but Lady Danbury's ball is one of the events that the whole Bridgerton family attended, no matter the age. It was a family tradition as Lady Danbury was their close friend.

"Speaking of tonight, shouldn't you start getting ready sister?" Benedict asked.

"Just promise me, you will introduce us," Eloise pleated.

"I promise," Benedict smiled.

"You do know you are the best brother right?" she said and she was gone.

The ballroom at the Danbury manor was packed. Every member of the ton was present. Nicolette was standing right by Lady Danbury's side. The fact that she didn't really know anybody made her significantly nervous. Suddenly she saw The Duke of Hastings making his way towards them. For whatever reason that calmed her a bit. At least she saw another familiar face. After exchanging pleasantries he joined them. They were making rounds getting introduced to people left and right.

"I am quite parched, wouldn't you like a glass of lemonade Miss Danbury?" Simon asked and she gladly accepted. He is a really nice gentleman. As he was walking away she saw him bump into a beautiful woman. Now that isn't unusual, but what was unusual is the fact that they continued talking. From where Nicolette was standing she could tell that the conversation seemed quite heated. She started walking towards them to intervene, she could tell that he offended the lady.

"Sir," Nicolette said when she walked up to him. Simon was about to answer her but somebody else spoke first.

"Basset!," a man coming up to them said. It was the same man Simon was with the night before. Anthony Bridgerton. That means that Benedict is nearby. Her stomach turned. Not that Benedict made her nervous but this will be the first time he will see her as a woman. Anthony hugged Simon and Nicolette stood next to Daphne who seemed furious. The men talked about Simon's late father and the fact that Simon is not a Basset anymore but is now a Duke of Hastings.

"Ohh a Duke of Hastings, is it?" Daphne scoffed.

"Right, Hastings, this is my sister," Anthony said.

"Your sister?" Simon frowned.

Nicolette cleared her throat which caused everyone to turn to her.

"Right, I apologize, Anthony, Miss Bridgerton, allow me to introduce you to Miss Danbury," Simon said and Daphne's face suddenly changed. She didn't seem mad anymore. She was happy.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Anthony bowed slightly.

"Nicolette isn't it?" Daphne smiled, "we talked about you at breakfast today." Nicolette blushed.

"In a good way I hope," Nicolette smiled at her.

"The best way," Anthony smiled, "anyway we should be going, Lord Wetherby is looking for Daphne to dance. Hastings. Miss Danbury."

Daphne grabbed Nicolette's hand suddenly: "You have to visit us sometime, I will write to you. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Nicolette's thoughts were racing, what did Daphne mean when she said that they talked about her at breakfast? Did Benedict know her name? And did he tell everyone. He wouldn't do that. Or would he? All of a sudden Nicolette felt very hot and she couldn't breathe properly. She had to get out. As she was racing through the crowd of people she bumped into someone. Someone who was coincidently enough running away as well. Benedict Bridgerton.

"You," he breathed out but stopped smiling when he noticed that she didn't seem too happy to see him.

"Your sister just informed that you talked about me at breakfast," she frowned at him he took her by hand and started dancing with you.

"Lord Bridgerton, what are you doing?" she hissed at him.

"Trying to get away from my mother and Lady Danbury," he smirked, "and to answer your question I have no idea what my sister talked about as I said nothing about you at the breakfast table."

"And why it is she knew my given name than?" Nicolette raised her eyebrows.

"I wouldn't know since you never told me your name," Benedict smiled, "now tell me. What is your name?" he asked as the dance ended.

"I see that in trying to lose me you found my niece Lord Bridgerton," Lady Danbury said and Benedict froze at the sound of her voice. Nicolette couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes," he smiled at Lady Danbury, "but I do not believe we have been introduced."

"Do you often dance with ladies you do not know or do you only do that when you are trying to get away from me, Lord Bridgerton?" Lady Danbury raised her eyebrow.

Next chapter

#BenedictBridgerton #BridgertonFanfiction #SlowBurn #RegencyRomance #BridgertonLove #SlowBurnRomance #PeriodDrama #BenedictBridgertonFanfic #BridgertonFiction #anthony bridgerton

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zootplayz · 11 months ago

Text

Family No More

Here we are officially Disney Villains which is quite bizarre for me because I like to give my sims the happily ever after life. So this is going to be quite a departure gameplay-wise for me. Damien set his sights on Strangerville for his new home. After all, he grew up in the desert the heat is his home. With the small inheritance, he was able to purchase a just as small home to get him started.

It's not much but it's his. Well, that's what most anyone else would say but not Damien.

He grew up in a life of luxury. First in the Landgraab mansion then his uncle's swanky apartment (with free maid service!). And yet here he is in (what he considers) a shack that is just infested with creepy crawlies.

Yeah, plasma bats! Thought they were only in the jungle... It's no wonder he takes up anyone on an invitation out.

OMG, leave me alone! But quite frankly the socializing is just plain unacceptable, so when his birthday came along he chose to celebrate it alone.

But there's no way his loving mother Daphne let the celebration go without a present. The pitter-patter of paws on his porch was all he needed to hear to know that his mother finally made good on her promise to get him a dog of his own.

Malcolm of course wouldn't allow pets in the house Damien promptly named him Lucifer, not knowing he was the proud owner of one of the sweetest dogs ever born. As for Damien himself, he grew into an ambitious adult and has taken quite an interest in gambling.

It has to be an easier way to earn money than the business world he's working in. Although there's always a way to make a quick buck for a sim who keeps his eyes and ears open.

Just as long as he doesn't start to blow his new simoleons on gambling debts we can avoid another run-in with the Fengs. He took his first real score and expanded upon his shack, giving him and Luci a bit more room.

Looks like that super-parent aspiration is starting to show even if his only child is a dog. For Summerfest Damien finally took his mother up on an offer to visit where she made him a promise.

"No matter what your father says this house will be yours one day and there's nothing he can do to stop it. There's a reason I run The Family's books and not Malcolm." Damien couldn't help but smile. His mother may be by all appearances one of the kindest and best sims you've ever met but boy could she be devious. But Damien couldn't let his mother see his reaction and quickly responded. "Yeah, whatever Mom. Just keep dad away from me today." Daphne was kind of surprised by his response. "I've never broken a promise to you before son." Realizing he hurt his mother Damien responded in a far softer tone than before and ended with a smile. "I know." As the temperature increased so did the tempers in the Landgraab manor.

And this time words just weren't enough and things took an unexpected turn.

Malcolm wasn't taking any lip from anyone, including his own son.

I'll wipe that smile off your face .... Dad The holiday events didn't end there. As the evening wore on and the juice took over Damien declared his own father an enemy.

Prequel Part 02 Read the full article

#damien #disney #DisneyVillains #disneyvillainslegacy #gen01 #gen1 #legacy #maleficent #sims4 #sims4legacy #thesims #thesims4

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sk3tch404 · 2 years ago

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can i suggest yandere jack (from identity v) hc?

Ooooo the Ripper I see 🎩🔪

Yandere Jack general HCs

Content warnings: Yandere, kidnapping, reader gets marked via Ripper blades, neglect, manipulation, threats, death games, and violent thoughts

(IM SORRY I WAS GONNA TRY TO FIND THE KNIFE EMOJI FIRST BUT THE FUCKING BRITISH TOP HAT IS SENDING ME HOLY SHIT LMAFOOOO)

To be fair and realistic, Jack would've probably bled you out or injured you pretty bad in matches before he was even obsessed,

So watch out for some hardcore vi-o-len-ce lol

Jack is based off of the real serial killer, Jack The Ripper (If that wasn't obvious lol) He's killed several female prostitutes throughout his spree.

If you're afab or present feminine, he's gonna be all over you one way or another.

Obviously, unlike the women he has targeted, you're not completely vurnerable and open to just about anything. He thinks he's infatuated with you because you perserveer through more than just matches. Also, the chases you give him are actually quite fulfilling.

Jack doesn't really think about women too much and only really thinks about himself. Of course on the outside, he's a 'gentleman' with a side of sarcastic asshole. But now that you're in the picture, he's a bit perplexed, and ultimately amused.

What makes you so different from any other woman here? What's a random newbie got him all worked up for?

It's honestly refreshing to get some sort of new thrill around here. Usually it's drab and sluggish when there isn't any event happening.

If you're amab or present masc, he'll be more interested in your skills and mindset more rather than your appearance.

Decoding type darling with be chased more than the actual kiters.

Kiting type darling gets tunneled and sometimes bled out

Dw most of the time, he takes pity on you and gives you dungeon after everyone else has either escaped, bled out, or sent back

Other times, he takes advantage of your wounded state and just spends time with you until the baron gets annoyed with how long yall are taking

Resucing type darling gets terrorshocked and terribly gets camped so there isn't any time or chance left of saving before they're sent off back to the manor.

Stun him and he's def tunneling no matter what type you are lol

Regarding to looks, maybe you actually just had a prettier face/more attractive body?

He can admit, there are a hell lot of attractive male survivors, but he never sought to fall for one.

The sight of you bleeding out on the Asylum floor, leading him with crimson hastily spread on the tiles.

Spouting nasty words at him, knowing you had used up all of whatever ability and strategy you may have had.

How dare you tease him. You're such a naughty thing.

You honestly did this yourself.

Okay here's how y'all met lmao

You connected with another hunter during a friendly match and were invited for tea/hangout date a few days later.

That's where they introduced you to a couple of the other hunters.

That's about one of the only times where he wasn't out for your blood lol

Jack made his way to the hunter who invited you and acted as if he was in a friendly mood.

He then jokingly made fun of you, saying, "My my, this new survivor is quite brave. To come onto the hunter's side of the manor; Now that is dedication."

The hunter that invited you slapped him up a lil bit lmao (They know he was genuinely being the asshole he always is 🤧)

From then on, in matches he always teased you

"Don't run Y/n! I really thought we had a connection!"

"You're honestly breaking my heart dear."

*Pallets him* "Argh... Now now Y/n, I don't think you want to do that again."

*Downs you* "You're far too naive to think you'd be able to escape dear." *traces a singular blade under the shape your jaw, letting only a bit of blood drip down your neck*

*Chairs you* "Sorry, not sorry love." *chuckles and maliciously grins under his mask*

*You save another surv* "Prehaps I should catch you instead Y/n!"

*Terrorshocks you* "Too bad you don't have eyes in the back of your feeble little head Y/n. Too weak for your own good."

*You are the last surv* "Dungeon won't do you any good Y/n, but I'll let you at least try."

*You somehow escape through gate* *Silent turned on anger*

As you can see, he LOVES the chase you give him.

He can never shit tf up, and he always makes sure you respond.

If you complain or confront him about it, he'll apologize and slightly brush it off as just jokes.

"Aw, I do apologize Y/n. You understand I am just joking."

Jack doesn't hide the fact he's into you, but he doesn't flaunt it.

On his own time when his Ripper side isn't effecting him as much, he likes to paint you.

Sometimes he'll paint you in a meadow of flowers in white attire. He sees this false sense of purity in you outside of matches.

Other times, he'll envision you in a desolate place. A location different from the manor, but not so far off of the misery that entails this place.

He knows you're not just an innocent kind person. You have a bad side like rest of them

You're human after all.

When you step through those manor doors, you are declared a participant. Not a saint.

Jack doesn't see you as one type of person. He sees you as this complex, mixed soul that has unfortunately seen too much for their own good.

He wants to salvage whatever purity you have left, and crush it to his hearts content

But what fun would be left if you were only this one dimensional miserable thing?

He likes a good chase you know.

Can't just walk up and slice you to ribbons right then and there, and call it a good kill.

That'd be a waste of time and effort.

So he plans to break you apart, and build you back up bit by bit.

Sadist ✔

I feel like he'd be on the board of kidnapping you, but I think it'd really depend on the circumstances.

If you made good friends with the previously mentioned hunter, then they're gonna have some problems.

It was probably Michiko or Mary. They're more lenient with survivors at times. The rest either often keep to themselves, don't like to socialize, or are more interested in other matters.

I know official art isn't canon, but I like to think he treats other people with respect and is gentlemanly when they aren't in a match setting.

It's really cute to see him hanging with the other hunters and messing with the survs okay?

Mary is nice, but she has a thing against survivors. It's not that she depises them; Some of them are simply better than others, and to be fair, they are technically rivals on opposing sides. So perhaps it's a natural thing.

Of course, she'll show concern if you complain to her.

"Oh- agh, is that what has you all worked up Y/n? Jack may be joking, but he really takes it too far sometimes. Since you are a survivor, I cannot promise you guaranteed safety, but do not fret. For I may be able to assist if I can."

Michiko doesn't enjoy being a hunter. She is very apologetic and tries not to brutally kill survs during matches.

Most survivors are on okay terms with her. Not many hold grudges against her for the harm she gives their way.

Michiko isn't a woman of many words, but she can speak her mind through only a few sentences.

She will be very worried if you complain to her.

The Ripper seems to be harassing you more often? That can't be good.

Jack got too close for comfort during your last match? She feels incredibly sorry for you. Did you need someone to stay close with for the afternoon? She can do that for you.

"I'm sorry Y/n. I cannot aid you during matches, but if you ever need any assist while I'm near, please do not be nervous to seek me out. No matter the circumstance."

If not, then great! Give him some more time to think about how to execute it and you'll be in his room on the Hunter's side in no time!

However, once he claims you, saying you three are good friends,

Mary and Michiko would cause an outrage.

"What do you mean Jack can have Y/n?! The Baron may be cruel with these games, but this is beyond inhumane!"

Michiko wouldnt verbally confront him, but she would physically assault him. Striking him harshly across his face with a mask on hers. Her action says it all.

Both agree you should only be escaping from danger if you're in a match or in a activity. Not from some lovesick unapologetic serial killer.

Michiko is the angrier one out of the two. If he 'loves' you so much, why is he hurting you? Love doesn't require your freedom in order to be with the other!

Jack isn't bothered. Though they both are a nuisance, the Baron has made the final decision with no question.

"Are you afraid of me dear? Please, do not be. I will protect you."

"But i've hurt you before? You understand I only follow the rules right? Don't be angry my love."

He doesn't even properly confess. No sit down, no run throughs, nothing. He just makes it clear that you're his lover, and his only.

"I love you Y/n. I'm obsessed with everything you do. Stay and and behave."

"You are not to look or think about anyone else other than me. Okay Y/n?"

His blades threaten you with each move,

and he knows that.

But Jack doessn't pay any mind to it as he's too occupied with playing with you to care.

You usually quiver in fear and anger during your stay

Your activites include pacing around his room, examining the space, crying and breaking down while he's not there, and just taking the affection he gives you while he is present.

He expects you to reciprocate most of the time. He understands this is new to you, but he knows eventually you'll get used to it, and let the Stockholm Syndrome set in.

If you don't love him back within the first 2 weeks, he's gonna start to get impatient and begin slowly threatening you.

Verbally and physically

"I wonder what would happen if I started to aim for their faces more often... What do you think Y/n?"

*Lightly traces a blade down your back, outlining your spinal cord* "Hm, I'm getting quite bored..."

He'd only let you out for matches, events and dates.

The first time you came back, survivors who did care and were companions came clambering with questions once you reached the waiting table

Are you alright?

Has Jack hurt you at all?

Is there any way to convince the Baron to let you go?

Do you all need a strategy so you can stay safe?

Do they need a strategy so they can stay safe?

After a while, they know now that Jack prefers not to injure you. Though that fact has been set in stone, it doesn't mean he won't hesitate to not hit you if he really needed to.

Since Jack usually bleeds your team out or sends them back to the manor,

Kiters try to lead him to you so he can change targets

They're sorry, they really are

But it's either your or them-

And they know their latter of the plate

Jack doesn't gravely injure you while you're kiting. He just chases you around.

He knows you need all that stored energy released

But he also misses playing with you like this

It's not like you two always get matched

Though the Baron does like to do it half of the time, the other half, you two are forcibly separated

It's only when your morality points are below 50 is when he'll let you go from keeping you out of matches that aren't with him

Maybe he'll swing with claws; Just barely grazing you

It's only when you foolishly bodyblock is where he'll seriously hit you

He'll have someone heal you first before offing them so then you'll be left with little to no injury.

This counts as a date, as you two can wander romantically around the map.

It's a nice change of scenery

Even if you've been there a thousand times in matches before, it's bigger and gives you more of a sense of freedom than when you're in that dreaded bedroom.

Decoders stay close to others

That often leads to unfinished ciphers all around the map

Jack doesn't dare waste time, so he knocks out any survivor that isn't you

When he sees a little decoder, he just can't help but tunnel them until stars start to circle around their head.

Rescuers either miraculously save or die via terrorshock

Other teammates who don't have stunning abilities, or don't have godtier kiting abilities, are usually too afriad to go and assist.

You always feel like a burden and liability to your team for not saving or assisting, but you know it's better to keep decoding. To keep out ot sight.

If Jack sees you, you're fucking toast.

So you stay behind the sidelines

There are times where you secure a tie, though it's no use to rejoice as you'll just be sent back to Jack's room.

Don't even try to think of escaping.

The survivors can't help you

The survs are already tired of fighting the hunters, why do you have to lead your big bad wolf over to their side???

The only time where they can somewhat relax is outside of matches and events where everyone can interact without bloodshed.

If you come over frantically asking for help, they'll try their best, but in the end, they'll only be severely injured and unsuccessful.

As much as they don't like seeing you in Jack's captivity, they don't need you dragging in any more problems than they already have.

Though his Ripper side is what he exhibits most of the time, his original self only comes out in the most tender moments (Which is pretty rare seeing how far gone he is by now)

Like when he paints you, or when you two are cuddling

There isn't that much hostility or bloodlust in his eyes during those times.

In fact, when he's back to his original personality, his unmasked face isn't Intimidating at all

He's honestly dreadfully beautiful

But with his Ripper personality, everything he does just throws you off

Okay actual yandere affection hcs hehe

Jack loooooveeeesss teasing you with playful and romantic words

"Are you going to keep me running after you little dove? You know I love a good chase, but we all have our limits..."

"It seems you are still shy, even after all this time. Perhaps, you are planning something a little more exciting than our kisses?"

"Life isn't worth living without you. Stay, and obey, and I'll show you a whole new world of things."

If you fluster easily, it's fucking game over for you lololol

"Don't turn you angelic face away darling, I don't like it when you hide yourself."

"I'll take everything you have. It's no use covering up if I just, break through."

He gets violently jealous when other people talk to you. Especially survivors.

He doesn't get as envious with hunters. Most of them don't really care and mind their business.

Some gossip and chuckle behind closed doors more than others, but he doesn't mind

Mary and Michiko always try to swipe you away every second they get, so he makes sure to steer clear of them

Everytime they successfully do, you just cry and breakdown, and try to let them know your status of health at the moment.

Knowing they can't really do anything, all they can do is console, listen, and cuss Jack out if they have the chance.

Sometimes they even have enough time before they either caught, or almost caught, to devise a small sabotage plan.

You dont want Jack to hold you against him so hard whole you two are out?

Geisha is coming in with an 'accidental' dash. Sorry Jack, she was in a hurry and placed the butterfly there mindlessly!

You want to be by yourself while you're outside his room?

Mary is forcing Jack to help redecorate the hunter side of the manor. She uses her mirror for symmetry, but just cant make up her mind!

Jack is tall, but he's sick of being used as a ladder of sorts and a conveyer belt for transferring weird decor items.

He leaves when about half an hour passes

"Don't you dare leave a lady waiting Ripper!"

*Runs away* "My apologies Lady Mary! I must get back to Y/n! Perhaps we can continue another time when my love isn't out and about!"

Jack isn't that worried about you running around

There's nowhere to hide

And even if you did try and go hide on the survivors side, you know he WILL slash and destroy everything and anything apart just to find you.

No one wants that, so don't burden the other irrelevant survivors with a mess you created.

Cuddling can soft, or very touchy

Soft cuddling is small talk with the covers up to your necks

Jack is always big spoon

Never ask to be in his place

Unless you want to be put back in yours

Touchy sessions are normal

He's careful with his blades of course, but he always has them lightly around your waist

It threatens you

Jack wouldn't dare to spill your guts right then and there right?

Even if you come back from death, he wouldn't prefer looking at you physically broken, right?

...

Pray bitch

Nahhhh jkjk it's only a scare tatic

Don't try him though

Pushiment is necessary

You can't escape it even if you've been good

He's strict in and out of the bedroom (not like that lmfao)

Jack had set out rules for you the moment he wrapped claws around you

The big three are,

Look at him, think about him, and love him, and him only

Don't escape

And don't you dare try getting by without even struggling

He may want to break you, but he doesn't want a toy that malfunctions after only a little while

He doesn't want you to be unrepairable

Unlike...

Break any of these at any time, day, moment, or circumstance,

And you're getting punished without mercy

A lesson can't be learned with not done properly no?

There isn't just a couple of set in stone punishments

Whatever he feels like doing to you, he'll do it

Why did you have to talk to Gatelea? You know, if he hadn't made it obvious enough, he'll just have to mark you as his

Again

Maybe he'll tear his initials in you this time. Even if you die and come back, the baron keeps the scars caused by Jack. It pleases the Ripper greatly.

You want to play in more matches? but don't you know that isn't allowed?

Oh well, it can't be helped. Jack will let you go after a little while of complaining.

But if you come back gravely injured? Oh, that's too bad. Emily isn't a hunter, and after all, you have to face the consequences of your own actions.

The only way to convince Jack to let you get treated is to beg. Beg on you hands and knees like your life depends on it (Which it does)

He'll take pity on you and waltz over to the survivors side with the Barons permission to heal his pet

Emily with no doubt, will try to get him out of the room just to talk to you while treating your injuries

"Why can't I stay with Y/n?"

"The patient has some injuries that may get worse with anxiety. Please let them breathe by themselves for a bit."

She'll then treat them while you quietly vent. After that, she'll embrace you.

Emily doesn't say much, but she knows that you need someone to understand your situation outside of matches.

She may have to leave you for dead during those games, but outside of them, she'll fight for you endlessly in more ways than one.

You don't reciprocate his affections?

He likes some fight, but resist for too long, and he won't hesitate to hold you down and threaten you.

"Don't think you're safe just because you're my beloved."

Sometimes he'll starve you of food if you've been ungrateful.

"Are you hungry my little dove? But if I supply you with food, you'll only end up more spoiled no?"

I like to think they have bathrooms in their personal rooms, so when you need to shower or change, he'll give you whatever you need and give you privacy

It's pretty much the only privacy he ever gives you

He has all of your clothes, but he controls what you wear wheater you like it or not

You only really get to wear your pants and shorts and such

Everything else you wear is his.

Hunters are like fucking 7ft and lanky asf so you're gonna fucking fit no matter what

Lots of material to work with laurv

Goes fucking crazy over your collar bones, shoulders, and thighs

Since he's from a more conservative time, off the shoulder tops and shorts have his brain cells fizzing out

*Insert that one SVTFOE clip where Star realizes she bi and is blushing hard asf*

"Are you trying to rile me up angel?"

Dates consist of three locations.

His room, match locations, and events

You two do the usual stuff in his room

Kissing, cuddling, talking, literally just living, etc.

In match locations, as explained above, he kills everyone else and strolls along the area with you

Events are actually pretty often

Parties for new essences, celebrations for the new year, birthdays, etc.

Jack will let you run around with your survivor friends because God knows you need it

But after that, you're gonna be on lockdown

"Did you have fun my dear Y/n? You didn't have more fun with them than with me hm?"

"That's good to hear. Now, let's get you cleaned up. You're covered in their filthy presence ."

He knows he shouldn't ruin such celebrations. They bring excitement and entertainment in a positive light.

Jack doesn't only love spilling the insides of the survivors, he also loves the lighter things in life.

Although all he wants to do is slaughter all of the survivors clambering around you, he surprisingly only turns away and finds a flock of his own

The other hunters tease him and sometimes prod at his relationship with you

UGH MY FUCKING GOD I MIGHT HAVE TO MAKE A PART TWO BC IM GOING OVER THE LIMIT WTF.

I'm sorry but this ask has made me fucking obsessed with Jack. I've never been into him before BUT THIS FUCKED ME UP. Thank you doing that.

#yandere #yandere blog #x reader #yandere identity v #yandere x reader #male yandere #identity v #idv #yandere ripper #yandere jack #headcannons #HELPP IM NOT EVEN DONE WITH SOME SMALL DETAILS AND IT STRESSES ME OUT SO BAD #idv ripper #idv jack

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lily-drake · 3 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday Jason!

Jason ran as fast as he could through the streets back to his apartment where he knew his twin sister was waiting for him. He raced up the fire escape and did a special tap against the window before opening it and entering the rundown broken apartment building. As soon as he set his feet on the grossly stained carpet he felt a small body ram into him.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAY-JAY!”

His small sister, Marinette, cheered loudly as she crushed him in a hug. He smiled as he hugged her back.

“Hey Pix. Have you been good, didn’ cause too much trouble did ya?”

She shook her head against his chest and then jumped back as she ran towards their thin dirty sheet they used at night and brought it over to him.

“Abuela gave me some money for cleaning her floors, so I gotcha somethin’!”

He pulled out a small cheap cardboard box from his hoodie pocket and handed it to her.

“Picked up enough money to get you somethin’ too.”

Her smile brightened, her smile didn’t belong in such a dark place. They traded the gifts to each other and both were extremely happy. Jason had given Marinette a small bracelet with a red string and different colored beads. Marinette had gotten her brother an old book from the thrift shop that obviously used, but it was still good enough to be able to properly read from. The book was titled Pride and Prejudice. He looked so awed by the book and she felt immense pride in herself. There was a bit of bread left over from a few days ago and Marinette made sure it was equally split so her brother also had his proper fill. It was his birthday too after all!

When it was time to go to sleep Jason read a chapter of the book to her then, the big meanie, made her read a chapter for him. She stuttered a lot, but he would just smile and help her pronounce the word. She was so lucky to have such an amazing big brother.

~~~~~~~~ It just didn’t feel right. He had been living in the manor for a year now, and today felt so wrong without her. Marinette had been taken by CPS three months before he had been caught stealing the tires off of the Batmobile. He needed the money to hire a private investigator in order to find his sister. It’s not that he didn’t trust Bruce, he just didn’t want him to put his sister into the danger that he was putting himself into as the new Robin. He just knew that she would insert herself into vigilante life if she knew he was doing it.

Alfred seemed to understand what he was going through as he walked into the kitchen. He didn’t know how the man knew, but he learned not to question it after spending about half a year in the manor. He was silently eating his pancakes when Dick burst into the room yelling,

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY J-BIRD!”

While scooping him into his trademark octopus hugs. Jason struggled to get out of it as shock and adrenaline coursed through his veins. Instincts from living on the streets for many years never really going away.

“How old are you now? You’re 14, right?”

“Yea, now get off me!”

He did not in fact get off of Jason, at least not until Alfred told him to a few seconds later. Rolling out his arms and shoulders he rolled his eyes at his brother and turned back to his food. After a few moments of peace Dick poked his arm to get his attention. Jason sighed and turned to the side to look at Dick.

“Yes?”

“Here, I got you a present.”

Dick said with a bright smile that reminded him so much of his younger sisters. He looked down and saw a rectangular looking thing hidden behind brightly colored and nicely wrapped wrapping paper. Jason carefully took the book with a small thank you nod and tore open the paper to be met with a nice hard cover book of Peter Pan.

“I know we already have it in the library, but I thought you would want your own, and I just felt like you would like it.”

Dick said as he saw the gentle, reminiscent(?) look in Jason’s eyes as he stared at the book. Jason willed himself not to cry as he stared at the book. The book that inspired the nickname he gave his sister. Abuela had read this book to them while they had stayed at her home during a harsh winter day. Bless her soul, he knew that she was in the best place of heaven, if that place even existed.

Barbara walked into the kitchen with a bright smile and ruffled his hair.

“Happy birthday Jay.”

She said happily. Jason looked up and gave her a small smile.

“Thanks.”

He hugged the book close to his chest.

“Means a lot.”

~~~~~~~~ Jason was angry, he didn’t understand why this was happening. His body burned and everything felt like it was burning with pain. He was training in the League with Talia. He thought he had found a hint on where his sister was, and apparently his actual birth mother. No, it was just a trap, and he had died by Joker's hands, and his sister wasn’t even there! Now he spent the day training with Talia and whoever she saw fit to handle him. His thoughts wandered to what his sister was doing, to what her life was like, if she was part of a good home, if she was still on the streets, if she was even alive. No, of course she was, she had to be. He refused to believe that she was gone before he could see her again.

They are both 17 now, almost adults. He would find her, but first he had to prove to Talia that he was ready. He had to take out Bruce and his replacement. D* that man, how dare he replace him like that. He wasn’t just some tool, he was a person, he was important, he would show just how important he was. This birthday was filled with rage that fueled him through the day, it was his motivation to find her one day and get his revenge.

~~~~~~~~ Jason watched silently as he attended a Justice League meeting with the rest of his family and Leaguers. It was still rocky with his family, and he hadn’t been able to find a clue to where his sister was. He still hadn’t told the others about her, though he was pretty sure B already knew about her from doing a background check or something. He had never brought her up or done anything that made him think he actually knew about her though. He had celebrated his 19th birthday, and so was she. He was sure that she was still alive though. He could never believe that she had passed.

A bright blue portal opened in the middle of the room just as expected. Apparently Paris’s heroes were coming for a meeting or something today to discuss the Hero Ban there. Five people in some form of animal themed suits walked through it. A cat that looked like he could be Selina’s child, a bee, a snake, a dragon, and a ladybug.

“Hello, I am Coccinelle and we are here to discuss the ban that we put up during Hawkmoth’s reign.”

He looked up suddenly, his eyes transfixed on the girl in the Ladybug suit that spoke. His heart began to pick up racing quickly. Her voice was so achingly familiar. Her English was slightly accented in French, but it also had a small Gotham tint to it.

If this was a trick he would find a way to make the universe pay for this. He hoped, he prayed to whatever God out there that existed that this was truly a gift from the universe. He hadn’t realized that he had walked towards her until he was at her level staring into her eyes.

“Red Hood, what are you doing?”

Batman asked in his gruff voice. He gently took off his helmet and mask before taking both her hands in his at her gasp.

“What are you doing, you bonehead fool?!”

Robin yelled at him, his glare intensifying.

Tears welled up in those oh so familiar blue eyes. He had to be sure though.

“Marinette, is that you?”

She gave him a small nod before pulling her into a bone crushing hug. Sobs left the young girl and silent tears fell down his cheeks as he ran his fingers through her hair in a comforting manner.

“J-Jason...I-I’m-”

“Shhh, it’s ok Pixie-Pop. I got ya. I’m not leavin’ ya again.”

It was silent around them as everybody observed what was happening, though the Miraculous team was shocked they smiled in a gentle knowing way. A birthday gift from the universe it seemed, he wouldn’t curse it again��..At least he wouldn’t until the next world ending event. He had his sister back in his arms, and that’s all he could ever ask for.

_________

I’m going to start an @ list. If you want to be part of it comment your favorite part of the story or any story I’v written! Thank you for reading!

#maribat #sibling jasonette #twin au #twin jasonette #platonic jasonette #Happy birthday Jason

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sukirichi · 4 years ago

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earned it [06]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. attempted murder and suicide, angst ig i feel nothing at this point because NAOYA 😭

notes. i’m rolling with the earned it jokes that reader is shippable with everyone so HAH enjoy this chapter because I didn’t enjoy the last LMAO (IM SO EXCITED FOR TOJI TO APPEAR!)

series masterlist

Your muscles throbbed, the pounding of your heart felt even through your skin. You’ve spent hours in the training room, taking punch by punch, landing blow by blow – yet no matter how hard you tried, you kept falling on your ass. At this point, your backside was beyond sore, skin drenched with sweat and clothes sticking uncomfortably to the surface. Meanwhile, your ‘savior’ barely felt the need to catch his breath, instead gazing down at you with disappointment written all over his face.

“Why do you expect so much from me?” you panted, fists clenched on the mat. “Didn’t you tell me you just needed me to get your money back and that’s it? I didn’t ask for you to do anything so stop telling me I’m indebted to you all the time.”

Naoya clicked his tongue, clearly disappointed by your lack of resolve. Above you, he swept up his cane and finally balanced himself. You previously thought he didn’t struggle because he looked so calm and composed, easily overpowering you even with his injury, but his lips were strained, jaw clenched tight that perhaps he was just good at concealing his pain. It made you shut up and watch his every move; his back faced you – probably to hide whatever fleeting moment of vulnerability he had.

“I won’t always be there to save your sorry life,” he said calmly, “You need to learn how to be strong on your own no matter how tough it gets. Now if you’ll keep complaining instead of finishing your training, I could happily lock you up and force you to do my dirty work for me.”

“Then why don’t you go ahead?!”

“I don’t want to,” Naoya responded without missing a beat. He easily closed the distance with a few staggered steps, his head tilted to the side as he surveyed you.

You wondered what went through his mind. Did he see a weak woman? A woman who must be so helpless, so useless that you stayed there, legs too tired and muscles aching too much you couldn’t move? There was no telling with Naoya, and his guarded gaze didn’t help either. Satoru had always been difficult to read at most, but with Naoya – it was practically impossible.

Even as he cupped your chin and twisted it sideways, his eyes narrowed over all your features like he saw something you didn’t, he was too guarded.

“I need you in taking down Gojo Satoru. In order to accomplish that, I have to use his weakness against him. You showing up won’t be enough. No, I want to hurt him…and what better way than to take what was once his, right? Dangle right in front of his eyes what he let go of, make him regret his actions?” his smile turned dark, and for the first time since you’ve met him, you got a glance of what his heart really looked like.

It wasn’t true that Naoya was heartless – no, he just had a dark, sinister heart that didn’t beat the same tune as others. He played his own music with the bones of his enemies, drinking their lifeline from a gold cup and drowning in them, his ominous laughter the perfect antithetical melody of what could’ve been angelic hums.

“Don’t you want that?”

His question made your heart skipped a beat. This whole time, you’ve been so hell bent on achieving something, but what you wanted to reach had never been clear. You were too driven by emotions, by the pain Satoru’s absence had caused, and now that the opportunity was presented before you, you faltered.

“I don’t know what I want.”

“Well, if you ask me what I want…” he tilts your chin up with his finger “It would be to see you strong enough that even you would be capable of taking me down. So be strong, keep fighting – I’ll be there with you every step of the way. You only have one job, and that is to live. I am not allowing you to give up at the slightest of minor inconveniences.”

“And if I get weak?” you questioned with an oscillating tremor, the bite of his cold skin against your heated ones spiking. “If I want to give up? Would I fail you then?”

“I don’t think you’re someone who cares about failing others, so don’t fret whether you’d please me or not,” Just like that, Naoya’s scornful tone had risen again. He let go of you until you dropped down to your palms, blinking back at the sudden change of atmosphere. “Like I said, just do what you need to do, keep going. Don’t look back or be afraid to take the next big step because I’ll always be there right beside you.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“I’m not asking you to, princess,” he snickered, already half way to the door that only he was allowed to go in. Even though you’ve been staying in his manor for quite some time, there were still some things Naoya didn’t trust you with, leaving you only more curious to find out the secrets within.

“Only time will tell. But once you’ve made your decision, know that my ring is always waiting beside your table,” his voice echoed through the large room, stopping in his tracks to look at you once more. This time, he had no haunting features, only the cold emptiness likened to staring back to an infinite void of nothingness.

“I expect an answer when I get home.”

You still remembered the day you decided to wear his ring. Naoya had come then, tired and aggravated from matters he didn’t bother explaining. You stood on his doorway, lips shut tight as you nervously fiddled with your ring, unsure if whether you should tell him or allow him to piece the puzzle himself.

Thankfully, Naoya was a lot more observant than you gave him credit for.

His eyes slid over your face before he followed the motion of your fingers, smirking as the jewel glinted under the bright lights of his home. Wise choice, he’d once told you, and you believed it.

Your life hadn’t been the same ever since. Your spontaneous marriage equated to hellish training of perfecting your image as his trophy wife, spending hours in his secret laboratory and discussing business plans through a glass of wine. Naoya wasn’t around much to teach you everything and it pained him to be your own trainer too so you had to ask help from his guards, refusing to give up and fall down even as your muscles screamed at you to take a break. For Naoya, with Naoya, giving up and running away felt like a myth; a buried solution in the past that should never be brought up again. But now that he was gone, you did exactly that.

You’d given up. Satoru had made you run away.

“Miss,” a deep voice cut you from your thoughts. You tore your gaze away from the glowing night city of Milan to turn to Satoru’s right hand man, the tall figure looming rather shyly instead of imposingly. “You haven’t eaten since we got here. Would you like anything? Mr. Gojo will cover your expenses.”

“I want to go home.”

He froze at your deadpan statement. Finally meeting your gaze under his lashes, Geto pursed his lips. “You know we can’t do that, Miss. It’s unsafe back in Japan.”

“And who’s to say Toji won’t follow us here?” you snapped, pushing your weight off the Cleopatra set and uncrossing your legs. “Why can’t your stupid boss just activate the account and give it back to us? I think we’ve made it clear we’re more than capable of handling our finances, and I’m pretty sure Satoru doesn’t need any more money when he can afford all this.”

“Mr. Gojo…has his reasons for everything he does.”

You laughed bitterly. Maybe it was the fact that Satoru had left this morning for whatever business he had that you didn’t have anyone else to let your anger out to that you’d swiped your gun under your thigh holster and dashed his way.

Geto’s back slammed against the wall, the cool barrel of your gun pressed to his jaw. He swallowed nervously, eyes darting to your weapon, and you laughed heartlessly. “Oh, please, do tell because nothing makes sense,” you crooned, flipping the safety off and letting your heated gaze meet his rather docile ones. You almost felt bad for him. Almost.

“I could easily put a bullet through your head and hijack his plane. I’ll be gone before you know it and who’s to stop me from doing that? Why should I stay here any longer with you?”

“Because your husband asked you to,” Geto responded softly. You stepped back with wide eyes, yesterday’s event crashing all over you once again. He must’ve sensed you no longer held any hostility because he used his pointer finger to move the barrel away from him, gently peeling your hands off his suit. “Because you know, if you go back to Japan, there will be nothing waiting for you there.”

You balled your fists. “I will kill Fushiguro Toji myself. Then I’ll kill Satoru.”

“Even if he used to be your lover?”

“Especially because he used to be my lover.”

Okay…maybe your plan of escaping and returning to Japan hadn’t worked out that well. Exhaustion finally crept up to your senses that you passed out not long after attacking Geto – who reassured you to no end he wasn’t mad you tried to kill him – and days have passed ever since. You hated to admit it, but being stuck in an overseas hotel wasn’t so bad. Geto’s presence was a lot more comforting than his master’s that you didn’t mind having him watch your every move. Plus, he was really nice to immediately follow your every whim. You wanted hot chocolate? Extra pillows? A really expensive wine that you refused to pay for because you were petty and dramatic? He provided it all without question.

Except he probably should have, because you’d stripped off to your underwear, head tipped back to take one final swig of the nearly empty bottle as you slid deeper into the tub.

Your fiery nature of rolling your eyes at Satoru every time he came around (which was rare, for some reason) couldn’t fool anyone – not even yourself. The moment Geto retired to the living room, you would bite the pillows to muffle your cries, thinking back to when Naoya was still alive. It was an endless torment of what if you had stayed, what if you had pushed the rubble off him, what if you just saved him?

Would he still be alive? Would he have survived? Would you be back with him in the Zen’in Estate instead of holding your breath under the tub in a desperate attempt to conceal your tears?

It hurt so bad. It hurt everywhere.

Your lungs begged you to rise up and breathe, but you stayed still under the water, eyes shut tight and hands clenched around the tub’s edges so hard your knuckles turned white. Soon, you grew dizzy and your grip slipped away. Finally, fucking finally, you were falling, falling way too deep that your legs bent inside the tub. Bubbles erupted from your lips in one last breath. At the back of your mind, you let out a sincere laugh for you’d meet your husband soon. He’d be disappointed, probably scold you all the way to the afterlife – until strong arms pulled you out of the tub and into someone’s chest instead.

“Shit, what are you doing?! You could’ve drowned!”

You coughed out water and fisted Satoru’s button-up shirt that had now clung to his skin from the water. Looking around you, you were still very much alive, the uncomfortable twisting of your heart a painful reminder of that. Above you, Satoru sat you in his lap while he remained cross-legged on the floor, muttering curses under his breath as he wrapped a towel around you.

Scoffing, you pushed his hands away, though you kept the towel anyway to lessen your shivering. Why the fuck was the AC so damn strong here?

“Dying seems like a better option, don’t you think?” you snarled at him, teeth chattering from the chill that had begin to seep in.

Momentarily, you worried on how much of a hot mess you probably looked like. Smudged eyeliner, wine-stained lips, unbrushed hair and remnants of the wine mixing with the once clear bath water – you shook your head at the thought and glared at Satoru.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“I was out contacting friends to ask for help. We’re going to need a hundred pairs of eyes watching anywhere that Toji could possibly come through.”

“Is this your pathetic idea of ‘keeping me safe’? Locking me up in this stupid hotel and having your man watch me all the time?” you pushed yourself off him, the sudden motion of standing up giving you wobbly legs. Satoru reached over to steady you but you slapped his hand away, your glare warning him to not take another step.

Seeing his face, seeing him worried as if he didn’t just cause your life to turn into absolute hell, you wanted to grab the wine bottle and smash it right at his pretty face. He had no right to look at you with pity.

You hated him, utterly and terribly despised this man with your entire being.

“What are you really planning, Satoru? Why can’t we just come back home and attack Toji with all we’ve got? Why don’t you just give back our fucking money so we can end all this for once and for all and I can leave?!”

“Because I don’t have the money!”

“What?”

“The money…” Satoru’s back slid off the wall, his palm coming up to thread through his hair. He sounded weak, defeated. “I don’t have it.”

“Gojo,” you snatched him by the collar, teeth bared as you demanded, “What do you mean you don’t have it?”

Satoru paled. “When I stole the money from the Zen’ins, the figures were all fake. They’re not real, there’s no actual money hidden behind their accounts and it was too late before I realized that,” his lips trembled as he continued, “Whatever Toji placed in there, it’s not his actual account where he hides everything and it would make sense too because I stole it too easily – almost as if they wanted me to take it. A few hacks here and there and it was immediately wired to me but after meeting you…” Satoru shook his head, chin dropped down low. “I checked again and the account never existed. It’s a fake one. The digits are just there for show.”

“So then why would Toji want it? Why did my husband have to die for nothing?!”

“I don’t know, okay, I don’t know anything!” he argued back until your faces grew closer, his nose brushing with yours.

Somehow, you couldn’t pull away. His knees had drawn up, forcing you to rest on his thighs as you both breathed heavily, your grip on his collar almost havered.

“Whatever the Zen’ins are hiding, that’s beyond me. I may be in the business for far longer than they have, but they have always been notorious with their possessions that I’m not surprised even I can’t find where it really leads back to. Whatever Toji is hiding there, your husband must’ve known something about it. Why else would they fight tooth and bone over it?”

“If there was, Naoya would’ve told me about it.”

“He would if he trusted you,” Satoru suddenly grabbed your wrist and shook it until you stared at your ring. “How are you even so sure he could trust you with that information? Have you forgotten you’re just a pawn to his game and you’re nothing but a bed warmer?”

“Don’t you ever speak about us that way. You don’t know how much he cared for me.”

“If he really did, then why didn’t he tell you why his cousin is after you? He’s using you as bait, Y/N. I’m not the bad guy here. That man you’re so deeply in love with? I can’t guarantee he’s better than me. We’re all men in the mafia, love is the last thing we would care about.”

You pushed yourself off him.

His words stung too much, not because it was a lie, but because you know there was some sort of truth ringing behind it. You trudged out of the bathroom and sat on the bed, unstirred by the fact you dripped all over the carpeted floor. From behind you, Satoru’s rushed footsteps echoed, but you didn’t care. You simply threw on a robe with your back turned to him.

“And you’d know that better than everyone right? Considering how easy it was for you to leave me?” When Satoru didn’t respond, you chuckled humorlessly and sat on the bed. “What Naoya and I had…it was a friendship that healed my soul. I don’t…I don’t know what to do without him.”

“Friendship?”

You smiled sadly. “I wasn’t actually in love with him, idiot. Men like Naoya don’t know what love is, but he sure does know how to protect family.”

The notion of talking about him, of accepting that maybe he really was gone…somewhat reliving.

Satoru was the last person you wanted to talk to your late husband about, but Geto – which is the much better company – wasn’t around, and you hugged your knees to yourself, refusing to let Satoru see through your vulnerability.

“You know, I trusted him more than I did myself. He was always there for me, no matter what. His soul was dark, angry, corrupted – he’s not the man I would fall for, but despite all that, he was the friend I needed,” you buried your face in your knees, voice muffled as you cried, your heart shattering again and again and again.

The ring on your finger had never felt so heavy ever since you wore it.

“I loved him as much as I hated you.”

Satoru was silent, so much so that you wondered if he was even in the same room at all. You sat there crying, too hopeless to even try to conceal it anymore. Shivering, you close your eyes and forced the image of Naoya’s last moments away from your memories, desperately praying to whoever had mercy that you could just forget all about it.

“Geto told me you tried to kill him,” Satoru murmured after a beat, “You could’ve easily escaped and went back to Japan if you wanted to, so why didn’t you? Was it because of me?”

You remembered what you tried to do today.

Just like that, Naoya was alive once more. You were brought back to the day of your wedding when he’d clasped your sweaty, clammy hands in his, rubbing some warmth in them before pressing a kiss at the top of your knuckles. He’d asked you to promise him something then – an entire contrast from his constants orders over your well-being – and it was a promise you’d momentarily forgotten; a promise you’d broken out of mourning.

“Naoya once told me,” you reminisced through dry, cracked lips and even more shattered heart, the picture of his disappointment as clear as day. “Death was the only place he can go where he would never allow me to follow.”

It took a lot, but it somehow got better. After allowing yourself a faint moment of weakness where Naoya resurfaced in your mind to remind you of our promise and your purpose, you felt stronger, somewhat steadier with each step you took. You were still wary around Satoru, although that was a given.

His friend, Geto, was really nice, on the other hand, and you couldn’t explain why you always lowered your guard around the formal dark-haired assistant.

You and Geto were playing chess when Satoru barged in out of nowhere, a plate and a syrup condenser on his hand. “So I got you breakfast,” was his greeting, nodding at Geto once as a silent order to give you two privacy. You pouted as the latter left, but soon your attention had been diverted to the heavenly aroma filling in your senses. Seeing your approval, Satoru hid a smile behind his dark sunglasses. “Still like pancakes?”

“Trying to get into my good graces now?”

“I’m just trying to cheer you up.”

You rolled your eyes but snatched the plate from him anyway. “So I talked to my lawyer,” you begun, pouring syrup all over the fluffy bread until it was almost spilling to the sides. Beside you, Satoru’s snickers were barely muffled, to which you ignored wholeheartedly. “They’ve already processed my inheritance over Naoya’s possessions and assets. Once we return to Japan, I’ll be the next leader of the Zen’in Clan, much to the disappointment of his elders, of course, but they can’t do anything about it,” you informed him with your fork hanging in mid-air, the words falling thickly. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

“That we’re back to being enemies?”

You offered him a sarcastic smile. “Naoya lied about strengthening his alliance with your family. He doesn’t actually give a fuck about you.”

“I figured that much,” he snickered to himself, shifting his weight until his elbows rested on his thighs. “Listen…a friend of mine is flying to Milan tonight to meet us. They have strong connections with banks all over the world and they brought in some information about that hidden Zen’in account. I think we’re finally getting off to somewhere and finding out what really is in there,” Satoru gauged for your reaction, but you kept eating – more like stuffing the pancakes inside your mouth for you were finally free of having to act perfect without your husband.

Satoru’s hand landed on top of yours. “I promise…I’ll give it back to right where it belongs. As soon as it’s wired back to you, I’m setting you free.”

You stared at the unwanted figure over you, and you snatched your hand back, waving a bread knife below his lashes. “You can’t set me free when I was never yours,” you sang breathily, the tip of the blade hovered right at his lips. Satoru raised a brow at you, but you quickly retrieved the knife back with widened eyes. “Now that you mention it…I think Naoya told me something about his family stashing secret weapons and even heirlooms through offshore accounts and buried under islands. He was a little sleepy during that time but I remember it,” pushing the plate away from you as you lost your appetite, you clutched your palms under your chin in thought. “He said he was looking for something he lost as a child, possibly an heirloom.”

“He’s doing all this for heirlooms?” Satoru immediately coughed his words back when you glared at him, raising his hands in surrender. “I mean, I was just saying. I didn’t think he was a sentimental type of guy.”

“The question here is what both Toji and Naoya could’ve both wanted from that account. It’s not just an heirloom, obviously there’s something there worth more than money,” You argued and slapped your knees, heading straight to your (unfortunately) shared room. “Whatever. I’ll get this over with as soon as I get the money back.”

Satoru, as always, was hot on your heels. It annoyed you how he trailed over you like some sort of puppy or shadow – Naoya had always been too classy to not give you space.

The difference between them just kept getting more and more uncannily obvious.

“Whoa there, stop. Did you really think I’d give back the money to you and that’s it? Are you forgetting the fact Toji is out there to kill you just so he can have his hands on it?”

“He can have the money for all I fucking care,” you shrugged and sat on your bed, scrolling through numerous piles of emails and records that Naoya entrusted you to keep. Surely you could find something. “I just need to find whatever Naoya’s spent his whole life killing for.”

“Why don’t you care about the money? Didn’t Naoya expect you to take over his business?”

Your thumb froze over a file. Suddenly, your throat grew dry, and you quickly flashed Satoru a stinky eye. “I-it’s not my main concern.”

“It’s not safe for you. If Toji finds out—”

Got it. You bookmarked an email Naoya had forwarded you around three years ago and resent it to an old friend, pocketing the phone back to your pyjamas before Satoru could see. “I’ll handle it. I’ve been doing well so far before you came into our lives again,” you finalized, stopping for a bit as you waited for that all-too familiar footfall matching with yours, only for the room to be coated in silence.

Satoru stood there on the other side of the room, eyes deep in thought before he sighed. “I’ll meet you at the hotel restaurant tonight. We have a lot to discuss on what our next move should be,” nodding once, Satoru left the room.

The hotel room was eerily silent.

Dinner came around faster than you expected. With Geto out to run some errands for Satoru, something about ‘establishing bases’ or whatever, you were locked in your room, using Naoya’s black card to get enough amount of clothing to last you for your stay here. Even though Satoru had promised he’d take care of everything, you didn’t want to be in his debt for any longer. You weren’t his, you were Naoya’s, and you shot down his curious looks when heaps of shopping bags had been delivered to your door.

An hour later, you left the room, struggling to zipper the back of your dress. Satoru was already in the living room buttoning up his suit jacket, just as handsome as ever (though you’d never tell him that.)

His hands froze in the last button once his eyes landed on you, and you huffed at him, too distressed to even act cute or bothered while pointing to your dress. Satoru strode to you in three long steps, his cold fingers brushing against the dip of your spine when he clutched on the zipper.

You had to bite your lip down to prevent the shivers from spilling through, his lips dangerously close to your ear as he whispered, “You look great.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

If Satoru was bothered by the lack of sincerity in your voice, he didn’t comment on it. He removed his hands from you and watched as you slipped black velvet gloves through your arms – just in case you had to end up killing someone; leaving fingerprints was a risk you couldn’t take.

“Did you really get dressed to kill?”

“I came here to negotiate,” you corrected, “I’ll do everything I can to find out whatever’s behind that offshore account. And you, sir,” Frowning at him, you pulled Satoru closer by the tie, perhaps a little too harshly since he nearly knocked his head with yours. He was quick to steady himself as you fixed his tie, flattening it down with your fingers. “You need to know where you should stick your nose in. This is more my business than yours so don’t get in my way acting all hero and shit. I assure you I can handle myself.”

“You’re really going to berate me for worrying about you?”

“You can no longer worry about me,” you disclosed, snatching your black purse from the counter before doing the come hither motion at his shock-still figure. “Now let’s go. We have a case to crack.”

“Case to crack? You sure sound like a detective.”

You snickered, but made no further comment. The elevators dinged and you arrived at the restaurant, which you really regretted not visiting soon enough because the place was grand. Red carpeted floors, golden chandeliers, soft jazz music playing in the background as the lights dimmed down low, the faint clinking of utensils against plates and light chatter of the guests so heartbreakingly nostalgic.

It seemed that even after his death, Naoya had every intention to never leave your side. The setting reminded you too much of your never-ending late night fancy dinners.

Naoya being Naoya, he didn’t blink twice in flaunting his money and renting out entire restaurants all for himself, claiming that he just ‘wanted to have an intimate moment with his wife.’ Sure, it mostly consisted of you discussing what move you should make next, but it was the most affectionate gesture you’ve received after spending years in the quiet and cold environment of the Zen’in Estate.

The outside world wasn’t any better when you and Naoya were marked as targets by the entire government, so it made sense, that only with him that you’d find comfort in.

You must be so out of it you never even noticed Satoru leading you to your seat, a warm meal that should’ve been comforting right under your nose. It was too much – too similar that you headed straight for the wine, ignoring Satoru’s questioning gaze. You noticed from the corner of his eye that he opened his mouth too many times in an attempt to make light conversation, but this dinner wasn’t for you to rekindle your old flame.

No, you were here to wait for his ‘friend’ and review important matters. You were determined to fulfill that purpose alone and only that alone that you never once made eye contact with him, even standing up to reach the salt shaker near him instead of asking him to pass it.

Just as you leaned back to your seat, the music grew louder. A foreign man walked to the stage where he was basked in the spotlight, all heads turning to him when he tapped the microphone, sending little echoes all over the hall. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s loosen up tonight with a drink and bring our lovers out here on the dance floor,” he sang while swaying side to side, snapping his fingers to the beat that had turned into calming to sensual. “It is a fine evening, isn’t it? Come on, don’t be shy, the night is still so young!”

You dropped your fork beside the plate. “Did you know about this?”

“I swear, I had no idea.”

“Those two attractive lovers in table 42, the dance floor is still much too spacious!”

“Pretty vulgar for a five star hotel,” you commented under your breath and dabbed the pasta sauce off your lips with a napkin, slapping it down the table as you stood up – much to Satoru’s surprise who’d tried to make himself invisible from the host’s eyes. Stupid him; did he really think he could blend in with his sunglasses and snow white hair?

If you were to be honest, you’d rather choke on shrimp than dance with him, but you had an image to upkeep. If you couldn’t gather with the crowd and pretend to be one with others, both your true natures would be fished out even with innocent eyes. You were left with no choice but to be comfortable in the dance floor, sighing deeply as you placed your hands down on Satoru’s wide shoulders. He furrowed his brows at you but said nothing else; strong, cautious hands sliding down from your back before they settled at the curve of your hips.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Mister. I won’t hesitate to stab a fork through your jugular right here.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I know you’re not my little angel anymore.”

Angel. It was what he used to call you back then – when you were still but an innocent, naïve being who never believed in monsters until you fell for one.

He was right; you were no longer his angel. The woman he loved had been left abandoned in the street, the purity of her soul tainted with anger and heartbreak that soon bathed in blood and the need for revenge. His angel was no more – the woman he danced with was nothing but a replica of the face and body he adored the most. Now, you danced with him, not as his angel and neither as his rival’s wife, but simply as a woman whose kindness had long vanished into thin air.

Satoru danced with the devil.

And he should be disgusted just as you should be repulsed with how sickeningly smooth and graceful he was in everything he did, but the wine – yes, it was the fucking wine – messed with you that you actually enjoyed it. Your bodies moved in rhythm and syncopated with the beat, the romantic high notes of the violin and the tender embrace of deep trebles like a classical painting coming to life and you were its subjects to be expressed.

Perhaps…you were just sad. You grieved and mourned too much you’d momentarily forgot what love was, in turn making you forget what it felt like to be constantly unsafe and peeking over your shoulder in case someone tried to kill you.

Satoru just felt so warm, so safe and alive that you found your head dipping lower, your muscles relaxing around his soothing and undeniably tender touch, the space between your bodies diminishing until you surrendered to the power of your desire. You were so close, your ear about to press on his chest to listen to the blissful sound of someone’s reassuring heartbeat along with the music, and then you saw him.

A tuft of blonde hair, a chiseled face, a nude cream suit and a deep blue shirt beneath – what the fuck was he doing here?

The spell was broken in an instant.

Satoru must’ve been under the same trance for his hand trailed lower to pull you closer, your chests grazing with one another before you placed your palm flat on his body, lips thinned into a grim look that resonated with the sick, twisting feeling in your guts.

“I,” you croaked out, clearing your throat when it went dry. “I need to go to the ladies.”

You left Satoru without another word, bunching your dress up to run to where he had disappeared. He was still walking coolly and inspecting the paintings hung in the empty lobby with faux interest – although knowing him, the bastard probably did enjoy classical pieces and studied about them in his free time; which he didn’t have much to begin with.

As if sensing your presence, he stopped right in front of a replica of The Sleeping Venus, his hands dug deep in his pockets. “The shape of being is the visual demonstration of a state of being in which idealized existence is suspended in immutable slow-breathing harmony. All the sensuality has been distilled off from this sensuous presence, and all incitement; Venus denotes not the act of love but the recollection of it. The perfect embodiment of Giorgione’s dream, she dreams his dream herself,” he narrates in his baritone voice, “A little cordial, is it not?”

You took your gun out from your thigh holster and lowered it right at the back of his skull. “Don’t move another inch.”

“No need to be so hostile in a public setting, Y/N. I’m only here to look out for you and making sure you’re not forgetting who you are. Killing me isn’t part of the plan.”

“Neither was murdering my husband,” you growled, pushing the barrel harder against him, though the man didn’t budge before you. “I know that it wasn’t Toji who set off the bomb, Kento, you did.”

“We simply saw an opportunity that couldn’t be wasted. Two notorious mafia leaders in an unsuspecting supposed safe environment?” The fact he didn’t even deny it left you speechless. Kento spun around until your gun rested between his eyes, and he languidly pushed his glasses up his high nose as he looked down on you. “We could’ve killed two birds with one stone had you not been in the way.”

“You guys are out to kill me too now?”

“Don’t act too surprised. The Organization isn’t patient enough to wait for both leaders to die.”

“So you killed my husband?!” you argued, “He was my friend, I told you not to touch him!”

“Only in the exchange that you hand him to us,” Kento echoed, jogging your memory until you were kept up to date. “But it’s been five years and what has happened so far? You’re fraternizing with the enemy and even manufacturing drugs for your so-called husband. Now that he’s dead, you’re here in Italy, looking as stunning as ever as you wine and dine with a former lover,” Kento tilted his head to the side to study your appearance – smiling at how you seemed too bright and fashionable for a woman in supposed mourning.

“I hardly believe you’re actually affected by this at all.”

“How dare you! I’ve proven to no end my loyalty of the higher-ups!”

Kento didn’t bat an eye at your outburst. If anything, he stepped closer to your weapon. “Kill me if you wish, Y/N, but know the moment you put a bullet in my head, the Organization will place you on the same pedestal as Naoya’s and Gojo’s. I wouldn’t recommend such methods considering we’re already at unease on whose side you’re really on. If you do this, you will be our enemy.”

“I did everything for the Organization. What else would you want from me?”

“The contract was easy. We want both leaders – whether dead or alive – in our custody. If you don’t hold your side of the deal, it’s not only your life that we’ll take from you,” Kento pulled out a red coin that made your heart sink deep into your stomach for it served as a threat over the consequences of your actions.

He lowered your gun with the coin and smirked at you, his lips right beside the shell of your ear as he purred, “I suggest you be careful with what step of action you take next.”

“Oi, Nanami, you’re here!” Satoru’s voice suddenly boomed in the hallway. Nanami was as unbothered as ever from taking a step away from you, nodding to your gun which you quickly concealed right before Satoru arrived. You were frozen – rendered immobile with the flashing red metal from his palm – that you couldn’t even protest against Satoru wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I see you’ve met Mrs. Zen’in already.”

“Hmm, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Madam,” taking your hand in his, Kento’s eyes were nothing but eerie as he kissed your knuckles. “Shall we start our discussion?”

SUKI RANTS! Nanami quoted Sydney Joseph Friedberg (an art critic) in one of his dialogues. A little backstory on the painting was that the portrait was originally made by Giorgone, who had a student and also his lover (if I’m not mistaken) called Titian. Giorgone never finished the portrait because he died from the plague but Titiane finished it for him, symbolizing that Y/N still has a mission that connected her from Naoya even after his death and she has to finish something he started. The portrait is of a nude woman that symbolized oneness of nature and that the woman isn’t posed for the gaze of men, but rather they are dreaming, hence the quote: “Venus denotes not the act of love but the recollection of it. The perfect embodiment of Giorgione’s dream, she dreams his dream herself.” Nanami said the painting’s meaning resonated with Y/N’s situation too much since she wasn’t in love with Naoya, but she had a recollection of their moments that still represented their relationship, and that Naoya’s dream (goals) are also shared by Reader. I was gonna ask you guys what your theories are on that scene but I think this makes me sound cooler if I explain it so *lip bite emoji because I’m still broken over Naoya’s death*

taglist open (lmk if you want to be added/removed):

@sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @asshxcm @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo @evesmores @ambiguous-something @lilith412426 @kakashiharusohma @aizawap @yumeneji @dora-the-grownup @jotazinha @themrsgojo @d34r-s4t4n @marai-t @toji-bee @hai-cool @badsadbby @stesphy @peach-buns-unicorns @misslezah @gracefullyfallinglikeanime @iwaplant @mikiminaccch @riri-marley | bolded users cannot be tagged

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draculas-husband · 2 years ago

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16. Do they enjoy dancing? / Do they have dances they can teach each other? 38. Thoughts on each other’s friends? 58. Do they have similar taste in movies? / Live theatre? Music? 77. Do either of them have secrets even the other doesn’t know?

They do indeed enjoy dancing. Although it takes them a while before they even try. Edmont is the one who asks Drac if he knows how to dance and if Drac would like him to teach him any Ishgardian dances. Naturally Drac accepts and it ends up being a rather intimate experience for them. Eventually they get rather good at it too. Sure they're not Morticia and Gomez good but that is an impossible standard haha. At least the passion is there! 😂💖

Firmien appears to be Edmont's closest friend and Drac absolutely adores him. He has been serving the Fortemps for 50+ years and Drac can't help but ask him constantly about what Edmont was like growing up. And considering how happy Drac makes Edmont, Firmien in turn cannot help but share all sorts of information about the former count. Drac of course also just loves talking to Firmien in general and gets to know him pretty quickly. They sometimes hang out together, the three of them when time permits. Although he is still the steward and mainly serves Artoirel at this point. Edmont and Drac will gladly have him along for lunch or a walk and the like whenever Firmien gets time off.

As for Edmont's thoughts on Drac's friends... I mean the scions he have met he enjoyed meeting. They're all a rather colorful bunch. And Tataru has come to mean a lot to him just as she does to Drac. Tataru is after all Drac's best friend. While Drac was on the first he asked her to deliver updates and letters to the manor for him and she was happy to do so. While there, she offered to come over to chat with Edmont should he feel the need and want to. Mentioning that she too understands what it is like to miss Drac even if their relationship is of a different nature. He accepted her offer and they had a couple of conversations over tea. One time they even had a proper drink when Drac had shared in a letter that he was unsure if he'd make it back alive... So again he has come to value his own friendship with her.

There are also the many friends that Drac has made along the way. Edmont can attest to; that there has never been a dull moment with Drac around. Overall he likes the people Drac befriends and is happy Drac has them. Even though he may not always have the energy to spend time with them himself. He is very happy they make Drac happy. And that is what truly matters to him in the end.

This is a very interesting question. (Are movies even a thing?) Drac hasn't experienced live theatre for the longest time before he meets Edmont. But after the events of heavensward I'd like to think they start seeing plays together. Drac is willing to watch whatever as long as he gets to spend time with Edmont. He usually ends up focusing on the costumes even if the play itself bores him. And if they are not to his liking either he can always just look at his beloved instead. So technically there is always something nice to look at. But genuinely Drac does enjoy theater and is open to most kinds of stories. He is a drama kid after all haha. I'd like to think his favorite play is one that some ishgardian kids set up in the firmament based on the events described in Edmont's book "Heavensward". In fact he loves it so much that helps make their costumes and set more accurate and even gets to play himself during one of their performances. Naturally the kids and Edmont adores it. Afterwards they surprise the kids with cookies and signed copies of the book. (Sorry got off topic there!) I would like to think that Edmont prefers the kids play over some fancy grandeur performance that was mainly set up for the nobility. In part because he associates it with a must rather than a want.

As for music I think Edmont surprises Drac with his taste. While he enjoys a good classic piano piece as much as the next noble he also used to be bit more "wild" in his youth. So he can definitely enjoy something more on the metal or rock side of things. A good knightly workout cannot be done to the sound of classic piano music after all.

Drac on the other hand listens to everything. And enjoys anything with a good enough melody. But naturally he has his favorites and Edmont doesn't mind them even though they're not always his cup of tea.

Drac tries as much as possible to be an open book with Edmont. But even he is uncomfortable with the amount of death his actions has caused and does avoid talking about it more than he probably should. He also hasn't told Edmont about Emet yet. In fact he hasn't told Edmont many details about the first at all. He intends to though. He isn't super comfortable sharing information about things that could be traced back to Edmont and potentially cause him harm so there are definitely things Drac keeps a secret for such reasons. He is however open about the fact that, that is the case and that should he feel safe enough to share it, he will. Edmont isn't actively keeping any secrets from Drac but there are things he too doesn't like like to talk about. But he will answer anything truthfully if Drac asks.

They do have a long conversation about both their previous experiences with relationships and Drac makes himself very clear about how he feels about loyalty and how important it is to him. Edmont knows full well that there is nowhere he could hide from the scions or any of Drac's friends if he actively tried to hurt Drac. Thancred made that very clear to the former count once he found out that him and Drac were an item. Which is in fact a secret Edmont is keeping from Drac. Not that he ever intends to hurt Drac anyway but ya know. (I must however be clear that Thancred does not have anything against Edmont overall. I think loyalty is just something he feels very strongly about too and would hate for one of his best friends to get hurt.)

#ffxiv #count on count romance #dracmont #count edmont de fortemps #edmont de fortemps #drac lusard #count dadcula #Ask #Thank you sm for the asks!!!#💖#Long post #shadowbringers spoilers #Man I really went off here oops #Have a bunch of trivia and lore for my own little canon #I apologize for any misspelling #And weird grammar #Etc #English is technically not my first language...

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dreaminpetals · 4 years ago

Text

💐 COMMISSION: fem s/o's wedding with andrew (sfw & nsfw) 💐

thank you so much for the commission! please consider checking out my emergency commissions here ! i hope you enjoy !

SFW ;;

♡ Andrew has always longed to marry somebody. Being a religious man, he's dreamed of filling a church with people who are dear to him as his beloved bride walks down the aisle.

♡ He's only glanced at weddings, an outsider looking in. The brides and grooms having the best nights of their lives made his heart feel fuzzy. Nobody would ever dare to wed him, but the idea was certainly a pleasant one. It helped him sleep. It comforted him when he needed it most. He wanted to look down at his hands and see a ring that reminded him someone out there loves him.

♡ He grew up with not even a penny to his name, so he knows having a luxurious wedding would be completely out of the picture for someone like him. Until he met you.

♡ You helped him get back on his feet and the two of you worked together to save up enough money for a wedding ceremony and reception, along with a honeymoon.

♡ Most honeymoons are spent lazing by the beach, but due to his body being constantly at war with sunlight, you decided to book a trip to a lovely cabin hidden away in the woods, a private place for just the two of you.

♡ He honestly thought you'd end up getting married in Red Church, surrounded by cobwebs and broken glass, but you insisted that you two would find a way to escape the manor and you'd have a proper wedding.

♡ It took months of promises and longing, but the seal keeping everyone trapped in the manor finally snapped and let everybody escape. You took Andrew's hand that day and promised him that a brighter future was upon you.

♡ Your wedding was surprisingly inexpensive. Despite your days in the manor being long gone, many of the survivors stayed in touch with you and were more than willing to help. You don't need to hire a whole team of wedding planners with the survivors by your side.

♡ Michiko and Violetta teamed up to sew you the most gorgeous dress you had ever laid eyes on.

♡ Emma designed your bouquet and enveloped the chapel in beautiful flowers.

♡ Norton prepared your rings using the finest gems he could find.

♡ Margaretha found the most wonderful songs to play and arranged dances.

♡ Vera styled your hair and Fiona did your makeup.

♡ Victor handled the invitations and did a fantastic job. So on and so forth.

♡ You and Andrew were on good terms with almost everyone, so they were all pumped to see how your wedding would play out. It was the greatest team effort they put into anything since the escape of the manor.

♡ You two had lots of practicing to do before the actual wedding. For one, Andrew didn't know table manners. You'd have to lovingly teach him gestures like how to cut his meat and how to do a toast before even daring to eat at the reception.

♡ Dancing together in your rooms was what Andrew enjoyed the most, though. Margie planned several dance routines, so you had triple the practicing to do when it came to dancing.

♡ Andrew was surprisingly agile during fast-paced dances, he loved to twirl you in the air like in a movie and dip you so low you thought you were going to crash into the ground. Each yelp only spurred him to play with you more, drinking up your reactions and getting all giddy because it's you.

♡ As for slow dancing with Mister Kreiss? You're so lucky to say you're familiar with it. He hums along to whatever music you play in the background, and puts so much love into every step or twirl that you feel like your heart might burst. It's agony waiting to dance with him in a suit and dress rather than your pajamas.

♡ You're blown away when you see the wedding venue for the first time. It's pure white with shades of red sprinkled in, the same colours Andrew has hated about himself now repurposed to be something he'd look at fondly for the rest of his life. It was beautiful. Like him.

♡ You noticed a chair with an unfamiliar name on it. When you asked Andrew who it belonged to, he answered that it was for his late mother. She would have loved to come, he said.

♡ He doesn't take the day of the wedding very well. What do you mean he can't see you until the ceremony?! He wants to greet you, kiss you, practice some extra dance moves to be extra sure... he's grumpy while the guys of the manor dress and hype him up.

♡ "Alright, let's do this! THREE CHEERS FOR OUR MAN ANDREW!" William would cheer so loudly the girls would hear it from the other side of the church and burst out into laughter.

♡ Andrew couldn't stop his hands from shaking, though. His lifelong dreams were finally being realized. The love of his life was going to marry him tonight. Willingly. He could barely believe it.

♡ As for you? You're brimming with excitement at the idea of walking down the aisle and shooting an arrow of love straight into Andrew's heart. The girls are envious of you as they powder your face and tighten the seams of your dress.

♡ "I remember when you first met that boy," Michiko would say to you as she styled your dress, beaming at you through the mirror. "You were too shy to even speak to one another... ah, young love."

♡ It took a million checks to make sure you were ready to present yourself to everybody. Your hair, makeup, dress, veil, bouquet... everything had to be absolutely perfect. It was a bit difficult having so many girls look after you, because Tracy's idea of perfect was a little bit different than Michiko's. There was a lot of playful arguing, but you knew they just wanted this day to be flawless for you.

♡ Once the petals were strewn down the halls and the bridesmaids and groomsmen made their appearances, you finally presented yourself.

♡ It took everything in Andrew to not fall to his knees when he saw you. You were angelic, your white dress cascading down your back with a stunning hairstyle he's never seen you in before. Your bouquet was made of all your favourite flowers, and he could see the perfect shade of lipstick beneath your vail. You captured Andrew's heart as he leaned onto Luca's shoulder for support.

♡ Andrew wasn't the only one who had his breath taken away. Practically everyone was gawking at you. It made Andrew feel a little... possessive, seeing everyone's eyes on you. He was going to be marrying you. Not José, not Norton, not Victor but him.

♡ All of his negative feelings disappeared the moment you were in arms reach. He extended an arm to take your hand as you gladly obliged. When he felt the fabric of your dress against his wrist, electricity shot through his body for a second time.

♡ Being able to see Andrew up close was a dream come true. His usual matted hair was thoroughly washed and brushed, it appeared as if José had lent him a hand. His usual flower was still present even as he wore a breathtaking suit. He smelled like cologne and looked so nervous but in love... you couldn't wait to finally kiss your groom.

♡ His hands trembled as he lifted your veil to reveal your features to him. You flashed him a grin and he felt his heart explode. He danced his fingers along your cheeks until they met your shoulders, which he gave an affectionate pat before turning to the priest.

♡ He had Helena help him with his vows. He wanted to blow you away, to use words you didn't think he knew. It took him days to memorize the words of love he was going to bestow upon you. You overheard him talking to himself a few times, but never guessed they were his vows.

♡ He also has some trouble with words of affection. Andrew much prefers to hold you or do favours for you.

♡ "When I first met you, I didn't think I was worthy of love. It's still hard to believe, but... I promise to return to you every affectionate gesture you give to me. I'll love you always and forever, as my angelic wife. I want to grow old with you. I vow to protect you, adore you, and care for you as long as I'm your husband. Our hearts will always be melded together and nothing will ever change that. Thank you for saving me. I love you."

♡ His vows brought some of the survivors to tears. Most of them only knew Andrew as that really quiet guy who hid behind his girlfriend a lot, so to see him spill his heart out for you made the crowd let out a sea of "awwwh"'s.

♡ His face turned scarlet and he almost wanted to run out of the building and hide once he finished speaking. He stumbled over and mispronounced a few words, but you could tell he put his whole heart into it and he meant every word he said.

♡ When he's finally able to kiss you, Andrew dips you low and assaults your entire face with kisses, treading past your lips. He doesn't care about smudging your makeup or embarrassing you, you're finally his wife and he just wants to feel your face after waiting all day to.

♡ The cheers once you become man and wife are astounding. When you tossed the bouquet it was caught by Eli and Gertrude.

♡ Demi helped to bake an enormous cake, one that's almost as tall as you. On top were little toppers meant to look like you and Andrew that you kept as mementos.

♡ The reception was definitely more of a party than the wedding was. Antonio and Margie played music for everyone to dance along to, and a karaoke session was held as well.

♡ Andrew was a little stressed out by how much noise there was, but you reminded him everyone there loved him and he melted. He's not used to all this positive attention.

♡ Your heart burst when he extended an arm and asked you to dance. You had been practicing for so long that when you finally attended the real event, it felt like a dream.

♡ For just a few minutes, nothing existed but Andrew's arms around you and the elegant music brought to you by a live band.

♡ Once all the food is eaten and gifts are exchanged, everyone bids you farewell. The girls cry when they hug you and the guys all pat Andrew on the back, wishing him good luck for... what couples do on their wedding night.

♡ When you two finally arrive home, Andrew is exhausted. He's never been to such a crowded event before, especially one where he's the main focus.

♡ He'd need to lay his head in your lap and relax as he plays with your dress. The fabric felt so pleasing under his fingers. He was so in love with every part of you. He needed to be as close to you as possible after being kept from you, and from being in public with you. He cherished alone time like this.

♡ Once he's rested up, you'd have to unpack all your gifts! Each survivor and hunter gifted you something for your domestic life with Andrew. Matching mugs, blankets, cutlery, paintings... you were drowning in presents.

♡ It took an hour, but you finally unwrapped and stored everything away.

♡ Which leads to...

NSFW ;;

♡ You and Andrew have had sex before. Maaany times. He views it as making up for lost time, it helps with his insecurities, and he enjoys making you feel good. Andrew will do everything in his power to make sure the lovemaking on your wedding night is nothing short of magical.

♡ When you're settled at home and can't think of any more chores to do, Andrew is more anxious than he's ever been. His face is red in a furious blush and he's barely able to muster a sentence as he stands stiffly, lustful eyes on you.

♡ He knows what couples are meant to do on their wedding nights, and he's so excited to make your wishes come true, but this poor boy has no idea how to initiate things. Whenever you make love, it's because he's visibly horny but too anxious to say anything so you take care of him.

♡ You approached your husband, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you stared up into his eyes. He didn't look at you or respond to your inquiry of whether he's okay or not. The growing tent in his pants spoke for itself.

♡ Your eyes widened when you felt his erection brush against your thigh. He could tell that you felt his arousal ー because he hoisted you up bridal style and pressed an openmouthed kiss to your lips. He was going to take you, and he was going to do it right.

♡ His sudden burst of confidence lead to him carrying you to your bedroom, and he gave you another kiss before gently placing you down on the bed.

♡ Andrew wouldn't know what to do next. He wants you eat you out for hours but... your dress is in the way. And he doesn't feel like taking it off just yet. No, he wants to take his sweet time with you. It's your wedding night, after all.

♡ His solution? Dry humping. He's always adored being able to rut against you like a wild animal, and getting to do so in your elegant wedding gear has him rearing to go. He doesn't want to soil your gown, no, he just wants to do something absolutely filthy in attire that's meant to be for a ceremony all about you.

♡ He would spread your legs as far as they possibly could go in your dress. When he hikes your dress up to your lower stomach and finally sees the sweet dessert laid out just for him, he's bucking his hips into the cold air for any sense of relief.

♡ He'd press his clothed cock against your panties and see stars. His lovely wife was so close to him but so far... he wasn't sure how long he could last like this.

♡ Andrew ground against you in a frenzy, arms snaking around your back as his face nestled itself in the crook of your neck, sucking sweet little kisses onto the flesh. He groaned when he rubbed against you just right, aiming to hit the same spots over and over again.

♡ He wouldn't let your needs go unnoticed. Andrew would angle himself to rub against your clit, and he'd pay special attention to your neck as he desperately got himself off with your body.

♡ The low groan that escaped from his lips as he came into his boxers went straight to between your legs. As he rode out his high, he'd push your panties aside and finish you off with his fingers before pulling away. Something about cumming before even getting his clothes off made him growl with need. And it made him desire you even more than he already did; skin to skin this time.

♡ Andrew asked you to undress him. You felt him shudder underneath you as you removed his suit and got him out of his pants. Stripping him reminded you that beneath all the cologne and hair gel, it was still your Andrew. His scarred body yearned for yours and you were more than happy to press a chaste kiss to his chest once he was undressed, your way of telling him you loved him.

♡ Your husband would ask you to sit in his lap, right on top of his aching boner just begging to be touched, and grind against it as he undid the several seams on your back.

♡ Andrew loves mirrors. He doesn't like seeing himself in them, but you? He could watch you be undressed through a mirror all day long. He thinks his hands look good when they're unbuttoning the fabric keeping him from you.

♡ You looked so radiant that Andrew would need to fuck you in front of a mirror just to truly see you.

♡ He would take his sweet time with you, for every untied string he would thrust up to grind against your clothed pussy and nibble your shoulders. Hearing you mewl in his lap causes his hands to fumble as he undresses you. He wondered just how someone could be so cute every time a moan is pulled from your throat.

♡ Andrew felt a little dejected once your dress was ready to come off. He would miss seeing you in it.

♡ ...Those feelings didn't last long, though. The moment he laid eyes on your bare body he was surging with confidence and hunger.

♡ "You look so ravishing... my... my wife..." he muttered, mostly to himself. It appeared he was still in disbelief that you were a wedded couple. Throughout the night he'd periodically mumble to himself that you were his wife, or he'd call you Mrs Kreiss. It had a lovely ring to it.

♡ Andrew wants ー no, needs ー to taste you after being away from you for so long. He would eat you out like a man starved.

♡ Positioning his face between your thighs, Andrew licked a sloppy stripe up your pussy, stopping right below your clit. Then he'd lick back down, avoiding the place where you needed him most. Your frustrated groans earned a soft chuckle from Andrew. He wanted to draw this out... he was in a playful mood.

♡ He massaged your thighs as he teased your folds, finally pulling away to ask you the question that would be the death of you. "Tell me what you want, my... wife..." his voice dropped in volume when he reached your title. He didn't care in that moment how cheesy it sounded, this was the ultimate night to be sappy with his angel.

♡ "Enough teasing, Andrew, please... eat me out," you'd weep through gritted teeth as your husband nibbled your thighs and nodded his head in response your pleas.

♡ Now that he's gotten you riled up for him (he wants to feel needed), he's not holding back. Andrew is the king of being unintentionally rough. He'd leave your core battered from how deep his licks are and how his chin smacks against your soft flesh.

♡ The moment Andrew feels you contract and twitch around him, he's slipping a wet finger into your walls to torture you further. He won't stop his ministrations even as you cum hard around him.

♡ He's extra passionate for your wedding night which translates into him not giving you a break. He doesn't want to pull away from your pussy, he wants to keep his head burrowed between your legs for as long as he possibly can. His tongue is going to commit every inch of you to memory tonight.

♡ If you really want to make this night worth your while, tackle Andrew once you feel overwhelmed and turn the tables on him.

♡ He loves when you take control and take him by surprise. One minute he was devouring you, and the next you've pushed his back against the headrest and you're lowering your head dangerously close to his cock.

♡ He wants you to feel good even as you suck him off, so Andrew will finger you while your lips are wrapped around his dick. He'll angle himself so the palm of his hand rubs against your sensitive nub. It drives him wild how sloppy your strokes and licks are when you're on the verge of cumming.

♡ He'd prefer to cum in your mouth. It's an intimate night, he doesn't want you to be completely covered in his seed just yet. He'd rather save that for the honeymoon.

♡ Chest heaving against your back, Andrew's next move is to pull you into his lap again. Remember how much he loves mirrors? He'll seat you right on his cock and direct your face with his hands to look right into the mirror across from your bed.

♡ "My wife," he'd murmur into your shoulder before snapping his hips into yours.

♡ Having Andrew's mouth so close to your ears means you'll get to hear every gasp and purr that he emits. And he makes a lot of quiet noises he tries to hide.

♡ Andrew made sure to cup a hand around your breasts and kiss your neck & lips as well. He wants to surround you. He wants all of your senses to be overtaken by him until you can't function.

♡ He would whisper praise into your ear, telling you how beautiful you look and how good you feel around him. It's not like him to be this bold and dominant but you're loving it.

♡ Andrew asked to cum inside you that night. When he finally reached his climax, he lifted you up so he could admire the string of cum connecting the husband to his wife. He was addicted to the sight and made sure to capture it in his memories for as long as he could.

♡ After several more rounds of rough licks and hard thrusts, Andrew would want something more soft and classic with you.

♡ Gently lowering you onto the mattress, Andrew would hover over you and press a tender kiss to your lips. With one long thrust, he'd fill you right up and stay like that, your hands connecting.

♡ His thrusts would be slow and sensual, making love to you rather than just fucking you. Don't be surprised if you feel hot tears drop onto your shoulders. This is one of the most sentimental moments of Andrew's whole life.

♡ Your tongues would dance as your lips locked in an intense kiss, you can tell how desperately he's trying to last and make this feel good for you.

♡ Andrew quickly repositioned himself to hit that spot inside of you. He's committed the location to memory, and wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't relentlessly batter it tonight.

♡ Your sudden gasps caused his thrusts to grow frantic, his hot breath fanning onto your neck as he plowed you into the mattress.

♡ You could feel his smirk on your skin when you began to pulse around him.

♡ "Good girl..." he would purr, rubbing circles on the back of your hand as you rode out your high. Hearing your cries of pure ecstasy pushed Andrew over the edge, and he emptied himself into you. You had never felt so stuffed before.

♡ Once you've decided you had enough, Andrew's entire demeanour changes. Before, he was determined to push your limits and hear your cries, while now he's insisting that you take a bath. He feels awful that he ruined your hair and makeup, plus you're littered with hickeys and your thighs are stained with seed... he doesn't know that you wouldn't have it any other way.

#andrew kreiss x reader #idv x reader #identity v imagines #andrew kreiss smut #andrew kreiss #andrew kreiss imagine

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barelyalivebutnotdead · 3 years ago

Conversation

Chaos

[The bat-brothers: Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian sitting at the dining table in the Wayne Manor. They all sit in chairs lines up, facing the Fanon version of themselves: 'Perceptions']

Tim: (reluctantly) So, these guys are our 'perceptions'?

Dick: (nodding, slightly uncomfortable) Yeah, Zatanna said she will drop by once she has figured out to fix this without collapsing the multiverse in on itself.

Tim: (gulps and points at Fanon!Tim sitting directly opposite to him) Why do I- I mean, why does he look like that?

[Cut to Fanon!Tim with sunken cheekbones, pale skin, skinny frame and dark, chapped lips. He looks undernourished and his eyes are laden with dark circles from sleep deprivation. He looks like a zombie.]

: readmore:

Tim: (whispering to his brothers to not offend the Fanon versions) He looks like a zombie...

Dick: (speechless)

Damian: (Smirks) That's the vibe you emit, Drake. Face the truth.

Jason: (also speechless, raised eyebrows, regrets life and death decisions that led up to this moment.)

Dick: (has the most optimistic 'wtf' look on his face looking at Fanon!Dick)

[Cut to Fanon!Dick sitting on the chair with a huge, 440-watt smile. He looks like the himbo version of a dog wagging his tail.]

Dick: (in both wonder and bemusement) I swear I can see rainbows and sunshine in his eyes...

[Dick internally wonders where Fanon!Dick got the childlike innocence from, considering his sanity has been crumbling for a long, long time now]

[THUMP!]

[Cut to Fanon!Tim faceplanting on the table. Jason looks like he regrets coming back to life. Tim is unsure what to do. Damian's eye is twitching from being around the Fanon imbeciles. Dick is this close to giving up on everything.]

Fanon!Jason: Oh no, baby bird! (Worriedly goes to Fanon!Tim and lifts his head)

[Fanon!Damian sits with hands folded and a scowl, in Fanon!Dick's lap, who hold him very dearly]

Jason: What the fuck?

Tim: What the fuck?

[Fanon!Jason lifts Fanon!Tim's head to reveal a... Less than pleasant face]

Fanon!Tim: (in a very scratchy, weak voice) Coff- coughs -fee! (and then THUMPS on the table head-first, again.)

[Fanon!Jason catches ahold of Fanon!Dick by the collar and gets into his face]

Fanon!Jason: You weren't a good brother to me and now you can't even take care of my Timmy?!

[He huffs and leaps for the kitchen to make coffee.]

[Dick facepalms, he cannot see this. Jason flinches in fear of Alfred's swear jar each time he hears Fanon!Jason swear from the kitchen. Tim buried his face into his hands and slumps against the table, he wishes to disappear and never face reality again. Damian is already reaching for his sword.]

Fanon!Damian: (scoffs) Let the imbecile die. A pathetic soul like his deserves a pathetic death like this.

Damian: (he stands on the table wielding the sword to Fanon!Damian's throat, eyes raging green) What the hell did you just say?!

Fanon!Dick and Canon!Dick: Shut up, Damian! (Who said that to which Damian, I'll let you decide)

[Dick and Tim pull Damian back from killing the Fanon!Damian, fearing that killing them would cause something to go wrong in the multiverse]

[Fanon!Jason returns from the kitchen with a tray in which he decorated a large mug of coffee, a flower vase and a bowl of hot soup.]

Dick: (In astonishment and disbelief) Jason?

[Fanon!Jason doesn't answer him. He goes and sits by Fanon!Tim and sets down the mug of coffee. Then, with cooing words, feeds Fanon!Tim the soup, gently.]

Jason: Where's my crowbar.

Dick: (Lets out he most tired sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, others are unsure whether he is frustrated over Jason's crowbar or the Fanons.)

Tim: (Turns to Damian with an earnest, pained expression) Damian, kill me before this is embedded into my memory forever.

Damian: (takes a breath and turns to Tim, his voice polite, soft and genuine. Vicarious pain and embarassment flashing in his eyes) I hate this too, Drake. Believe me, I really do. But since this hurts you more than it hurts me, (In the same soft, genuine, polite voice but evilly dramatic tone) suffer.

[Dick looks at Fanon!Dick, somehow glowing with childlike happiness.]

Dick: I wonder how he is so happy?

Alfred: Sirs? It is time for Dinner.

[The boys all get up and help in setting the table. Chaos ensues]

Jason: I'll get the plates. Tim? Get the caserols.

[A very 'undead' Tim walks in, dragging his feet and hunching over with slumped shoulders.]

Fanon!Tim: (Groans) Coffeee!

[Despite having met death, Jason backs away from Fanon!Tim for the fear of God knows what. He watches in a moment of sheer patience Jason didn't know he had as Fanon!Tim streches for the coffee jar on the top shelf, knocks it off as he collapses and proceeds to shove the raw coffee grounds into his mouth. Jason slowly backs away from him.]

Jason: (to Tim, visibly shaken up) I'm not going near that Tim, you shouldn't either.

Tim: (Putting down the caseroles a little lazily) Is that what my 'perception' is? A zombie looking Edward Cullen who survives on coffee and (shudders, refering to when Fanon!Jason fed Fanon!Tim soup.) That.

Jason: I'm going to get Zatanna to erase my memory of this event.

Tim: Yeah, call me too.

[Fanon!Damian sits atop of Fanon!Dick's shoulders, carrying a bunch of spoons while Fanon!Dick walks with glasses in his hands, laughing with Damian while he growls in return]

Dick: (thinks, Should I try to be as happy as him? Then looks down to see Damian watching in stoic horror as Fanon!Damian begins acting like a baby.)

Dick: (Opens his mouth to express his thoughts)

Damian: (Looks up at Dick and squints into a mini-bat-glare before Dick has the chance to say something) Grayson, I know what you are thinking. If you ever try to manhandle me like a baby, you will lose an organ.

Fanon!Tim: (Walks by shoving a handful of coffee grounds into his mouth) I hope it's a spleen. We'll have something in common to talk about then.

[Both Damian and Dick are thorougly spooked.]

Fanon!Jason: (Quivering out of anger at Fanon!Tim's broken, sad, lonely tone) Your fault, Dick!

[Dick gulps wondering if the Fanon!UniverseJason ever got out of the pit madness.]

Jason: (In a tone more broken, hopeless and sad tone than Fanon!Tim's) Why...

[Everyone sits for dinner. Alfred serves]

[Fanon!Dick suddenly gets up, walks up to Fanon!Damian and hugs him. Fanon!Damian responds with a bite. The he goes and hugs Fanon!Jason, he responds by shoving Fanon!Dick away, grumbling about how cruel he was to Tim. Finally, he goes to Fanon!Tim and gives him a hug. He is too busy chugging more coffee to respond.)

[Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian are exasperated, to put it simply.]

[Dick slumps onto the table. Jason finally pulls out his crowbar. Tim crumbles upon himself. Damian closes his eyes in an attemp to not lose whatever is left of his sanity.]

Dick, Jason and Damin: (in unison) I wish I had stayed dead than waching this.

Tim: (feels more nightmares of Jason coming to his nights.)

Author's note: Okay, I admit, this may not be as funny as I meant it to be but... I can suck, you know? Besides, this may be terrible but in a universe with the CW's PowerPuff Girls script, it cannot objectively be the worst. And yes, I categorize this as a shitpost.

Sorry for creating this, but I had fun.

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selfilluminatingkyu · 3 years ago

Text

Dancing with the Devil(s): Chapter V

Previous|Current|Next

F!Reader x Adult Trio; this takes place during the same timeline as Season 3 of HxH but the events with Kuropika and the crew are just shifted a little. Things will align back up within the next couple of chapters.

Warnings: Subtle Mentions of Past Abuse,

Word Count: 2K (She short and I’m so sorry for the massive break in between. A bitch has been studying for the Bar. Starting in March I should be on a consistent schedule again.)

It had been several days since that night and most of the troop members seemed to be tiptoeing around you. Although, that might have also had something to do with Uvo as well. After being caught by the “chain-user” he and the others had been on a hunt for said man for the last couple of days. While you understood the irritation in being caught, you didn’t quite grasp the extreme bloodlust that Uvo was expressing out.

It was also in this time frame that Chrollo had relocated the main location of the Troop. Their meetings, for the most part, were to take place elsewhere, less Uvo’s provocation of this mysterious nen user come back to bite the entire group in the ass.

And for some unknown reason to you, you were also a part of the move. Temporary, Chrollo had called it. Just until he could figure out what was going on. And then, once he knew that, you’d be taken back to the house.

To say it was stage change would be an understatement. From the lap of luxury to an abandoned and dilapidated, multi-story building on the outskirts of York New. It was cold, wet, and had a displeasing smell that you couldn’t quite place; unsure if it was sewage or that of rotting…something. You didn’t want to dwell on whether or not they’d had to clear other people out before deciding to reside her permanently for the time being.

“We’ve come here during the day, when most of us are away and it’s where we met up initially. Although, the move to the manor house wasn’t something we initially had planned on.” Machi said as the two of you walked side by side into the building.

“You…changed…that plan.” Feitan muttered in his broken manner of speech, drifting by you so quietly you wouldn’t had known he was there had he not spoken up. “Not that…I minded…honestly. Tired…of…holes…in the wall.”

Thinking on that…you honestly had known if he’d meant that literally or figuratively. Probably both given who they were and what they did.

So here you sat, perched beside Chrollo as he flipped through his book. Bandit’s something or another, while the majority of the Troupe was off doing God knows what, helping Uvo track down the “chain user” …more or less. You didn’t mind this change in pace, of leaving the…comforts…of the house, nor the others being gone, but you were still shaken up after the other night and what you had done. The power you’d held at your fingertips. Since then, you’d spent almost all of your time with Chrollo. He never allowed you to stray too far from him. Despite that close proximity though, he’d never made any moves to discuss what had happened, what he’d said and what he meant by it. Nor had Franklin or Feitan and you had to assume that was due to them following their boss’s lead.

However, you had questions, lots of them and you wanted answers. The problem was you weren’t entirely sure where to start…or if you even could. Every time you seemed to work up the courage to ask, Chrollo gave you the distinct impress that he did not want to have that discussion. So you’d drop your shoulders and fold in on yourself, hoping for another opportunity to present itself. Or…the courage to just ask him, regardless if he was ready or not.

Your impatience was pushing you toward the latter, and as you sat there, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain, watching idly as Hisoka flicked cards, Paku shining her gun, and Kortopi…well doing whatever it is he was doing. With ever flick of Chrollo’s page you began to feel more and more restless, feeling as though your skin was starting to vibrate. All you could do was think that you didn’t have time to sit here idly, twiddling your thumbs and learning nothing about the nen you had somehow awaken and now possessed. No, you had to learn to control this, to use it and weald this in a way that would allow you to save your siblings.

Sitting her doing fuck all was never going to accomplish that.

Shooting up and you threw up your hands, before turning to Chrollo and pointing an indignant finger at him. “Enough of this! I have questions and you’re going to answer them. No more deflecting. No more giving me the evil eye when I try to ask. No more! I don’t have time to sit around and not do anything.”

As soon as you stopped your rant and focused on the situation at hand, you could feel the energy in the room. It was nearly suffocating. The bloodlust and general distrust. The unhinged nen that seemed to swirl around the room and nearly cripple you. And briefly, you wondered if someone else here was just as strong as Chrollo, before realizing, belatedly, this was because of you.

The loud and low whistle that rang through the room, snapped your wild eyes away from Chrollo and towards Phinks who was walking in with Shalnark. He clapped his hands and threw his head back, laughing.

“Damn! Who knew we’d stumbled upon the greatest treasure at the auction. Fuck! Those pervy bastards had no idea what they had at their fingertips.” He nearly sang as he continued to clap his hand, before smacking Shalnark on the back.

Shalnark, on the other hand, looked at you more sympathetically. “So, this is what Feitan was bitching about. I understand why now.”

“This isn’t nearly as powerful as it was that night.” Hisoka spoke up. Hoping down from his perch on the windowsill and strutting across the disrupted concrete. “I’d say…that was a mere fraction of it. And even then…it still wasn’t nearly as powerful as it could’ve been.” He smirked and licked his lips as he said it. Eyeing you suspiciously before seeming to shudder and move more out of view.

Phinks and Shalnark looked at each other before looking to Chrollo, as if asking him silently to correct Hisoka. Tell them that he was wrong or mistaken. No such remark came. Instead, Chrollo placed a hand on your shoulder and sighed before redirecting you towards one of the rooms in the building. Although, rooms seemed to be glorifying it more than was necessary.

“Keep an eye on things, make sure when the others come back they know not to disturb us. When everyone arrives, we’ll be back shortly thereafter. But until then, leave us be. Is that clear?” Chrollo spoke calmly and with a clarity that, while he had posed a question, really left no room for an answer.

He’d guided you to a room that, when thinking of the layout of the building as best as you could, was furthest from where everyone else was located.

Isolated.

Chills ran up and down your spine as you suddenly realized this truly was the first time you’d been alone with Chrollo. Sure, he’d come in during your nightmare, but that had been short lived before Franklin and Feitan had shown up. Prior to that, there really had been no moment alone and you didn’t know if you truly liked that. While you didn’t actually think Chrollo would do anything to harm you, you couldn’t be sure. Your outburst earlier had been a challenge in its simplest form. You’d realized that as soon as you’d stopped ranting; stopped allowing your feelings and guilt claw up your throat and out your mouth, words taking on a corporal presence in the form of a whip.

It had been a mixture of intentional and unintentional. Your mouth had always tended to run away from you when you were younger, and through lots of practice (and beatings) you’d thought you’d gotten it under control.

Clearly that had not been the case.

“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to lash out at you earlier. It’s just—”

“It’s just that you want to achieve something, and you need to grow in order to do that. Achieve something within a specific time frame, is that correct?” He interjected softly, looking at you over his shoulder as he looked out the window, watching the rain pitter pattering away.

The way he spoke left you feeling at odds. On one hand, he always spoke with a confidence about him that left little to no room to argue, to disagree; as though he was looking into your head or heart and plucking the thoughts or feelings directly from them, sometimes even your subconscious. It was unnerving to a degree and unsettling to another, as though your brain hadn’t caught up with itself. On the other hand, it was calming. The cadence, tone, and pitch of his voice was soothing, relaxing, left you feeling almost warm and cozy…like curling up next to a fire with a warm drink.

Combined together, you couldn’t stop the thought that this is what a perfect predator is, a predator in human form anyway. Designed to be alluring, captivating, and calming, so that your while your heart races, your mind ebbs away, only to realize to late that the chill in your spine, the frantic beat of your heart, isn’t due to lust or sexual desire, curiosity, or intrigue. But the answer is no; it’s because your body has realized before your head, who has waste precious time to run or fight, that death is before you and your number is up.

Idly, you wonder if Chrollo is currently hunting…hunting you, to be more specific.

He’s moved in the time span that you’ve been thinking. Blocking your exit and your heart stutters. Him killing you would be pointless, truly. He had saved you for a reason, that much you were certain of, regardless of the fact that you didn’t know what for exactly. Despite this though, you knew whatever it was, it hadn’t happened yet. You hadn’t accomplished what it was, hadn’t provided any form of gratification for your pardon. And clearly, you were of some value given the looks you’d received from some of his most trusted allies.

“I think—no, I know I’m right. Your energy, whether you realize it or not, reads like a beast pacing a cell. As if you’re caged and unable to break free and do what it is you so desperately want to accomplish. As it stands, you have some of the greatest and strongest nen users around you. So I’ll make you this deal. We’ll train you, I’ll train you and help you accomplish what it is that you want so badly to do. And when that is all said and done, you will grant me one thing. Anything I ask for. Consider it. You have such great potential y/n, I want to help you soar.” The gleam in his eyes as he spoke left your stomach twisting and turning. The uneasy queasiness leaving the tang and burn of bile on the back of your tongue and in your throat.

But what other options did you really have? It was do or die and the man before you was extending a hand that could help you save yourself, and your siblings.

Who were you to turn him away? Even if it was the Devil extending his hand for a dance?

“Okay.” You said softly at first, before raising your head and clocking him with a hard stare. “I accept. I want to be as strong as I can be…so I can save me siblings…”

“Wonderful—”

“And kill my parents.”

The smirk that grew on Chrollo’s face should’ve sent your scampering back. But instead, you looked the Devil in the eye and gladly accept his invitation to a waltz.

“Even better my dear.”

#Dancing with the devil(s)#fic #Hunter X Hunter #chrollo #chrollo x reader #hisoka #hisoka fic #illumi zoldyck #illumi zoldyck fic #chrollo fic #adult trio

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