#OLIVER

[lavandulawrites]

Daffodil

Yandere!Botanist/ flower shop owner x reader

This OC is inspired by a certain Lord of the Rings character. Ten points to those who can guess who;) I have been wanting to make a softer yandere OC for a while, I hope you like Oliver<3

Synopsis: Your friend shares her concern that your other friend, the sweetest man you know, is stalking you.

Masterlist

Oliver’s (Yandere Botanist) Character Profile

Warnings: yandere, original character, soft yandere, mention of stalking, manipulation, further murder?

Word count: 1478

Oliver was a sweet man. A gentle giant some would say. He was caring, kind, gentle and loving. Oliver loved to both cook and bake, and both he excelled at. His cooking rivalled that of the greatest restaurant, and his baking was so good that it had made you weep.

This is way the words coming from your trusted friend greatly shocked you and offended you.

“He isn’t right in the head [Name]. Maybe you don’t see it because you’re blinded by his sweetness and his caring nature, but please listen to me!” your friend pleaded. Her forehead was wrinkled in frustration and her eyes frantic. “I swear I am telling the truth! He is-”

“A stalker? Really? You seriously think I would fall for that nonsense??” you interrupted her in her ranting. You found it impossible to believe that the sweet man who’s love for kittens was as adorable as a kitten itself. The man who owned a little cozy flower shop, the shop that you always found time to stop by whenever you were on your way home from work or uni. Oliver always had time to listen to your struggles and he always managed to comfort you with either tea or the best hot chocolate you could ever ask for. His sturdy, but slightly soft body perfectly fitted his personality. Though be no fool, he was as strong as a horse, that had been clear for you when he had to help and push your little stupid car that had gotten stuck in the muddy ground. He was a handsome man, with kind brown eyes with golden flecks. He had wavy dark blond hair with light brown streaks. Freckles dusted his cheeks giving him a cute appearance. He was perfect. Your parents loved him, your siblings loved him and your neighbours loved him. You thought your friends loved him too, but that didn’t seemed to be the case for her.

Her eyes narrowed as you were lost deep in thoughts. She waved her hand in front of your face, which caused you to stagger backwards. “Hello??”

You snapped out of it and your eyes found hers. The truth was, that you had started to fall for your botanist friend. You had fallen hard.

“Sorry I got distracted…” you mumbled. “But no, I don’t believe you when you say he is a stalker. Do you even have any proof?” you ask her with a raised brow. You loved her as friend, but you were wounded by her hurtful claims.

“I have seen him sneaking around your flat. We almost always stumble upon him when we are out. It doesn’t even matter what we are doing” she shook her head.

“Really? That’s it? He lives close by, so it’s not that weird that we meet him from time to time” you sigh at your friend. This wasn’t enough to ring any alarm bells. At least not for you.

“Okay, okay. Listen, I know this is not enough to repost him or anything-”

“Report him?! Are you out of your mind?!” you exclaim in disbelief. Who in their right mind would report a man as sweet as Oliver?

“Please let me finish” your friend presses her hand gently on your shoulder to stop your outburst. You nod in response with a lower head and let her continue. “All I am saying is that it’s weird. So many coincidences… I also found it weird that he was in the same women’s store. And in the makeup section too?” your friend’s voice was laced with frustration.

“At least think about it, okay? And be careful. Promise me that” she gave you a pleading look.

Your friend’s words had plagued your mind for the last couple of days. At first you, you didn’t even want to give it a thought, but the more you thought about it, the more the uncertainty crept in. You stopped in front of the cozy flower shop. Even though it was late winter, the shop had quite the few customers. Beautiful flowers in all different kinds of colours were sat in the window, tempting the by-passer to come inside. The interior was old fashioned, with dark old wooden floors and light green floral wallpaper. Paintings with different flower motifs filled the walls were plants weren’t hung up in display. The counter was of the same colour as the floor with a emerald stone countertop. An antique golden register was placed on top the counter which further made you feel like you were in a different time period. A sofa was placed between two shelves on the short far-end wall. It was an old light blue sofa who Oliver had bought from an old lady. It was at least over hundred years old.

Oliver smiled from behind the counter where a costumer just had finished paying for a bouquet of red roses. The bell rang as the women left the store with the bouquet gently placed sun her bag. Now the store was empty save from the two of you.

“Hi! Enjoying the weekend so far?” the blonde man greeted you. His friendly smile revealing the dimples which you loved. He leaned slightly on the counter like a happy puppy.

Your heart fluttered by his cute gesture. “Hi! I am. I thought I should stop by and say hello as it was in the way” you returned the smile. “How are you? Have it been a busy day so far?”

“I’m quite good. Even better now that you are here. It hasn’t been too busy, but that’s okay as I needed to finish some flower bouquets for a weeding” his freckled cheeks slightly reddened. “How are you doing?”

You blushed slightly at his words, but quickly concealed it by looking away. “I’m also doing good”. You paused for a bit. Your fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of your woollen coat. You wanted to ask him about what your friend had said, but you didn’t want to sound rude or accusing. You sharply inhaled. “There is something I wanted to ask you about. I am sure it’s just a coincidence and I don’t mean to sound rude or anything” your words fell out in a fast flurry of words.

Oliver narrowed his eyes quickly before they returned to normal. “Go on” he said in his usual tone.

You hesitated for a moment before you closed his eyes and spurted out “A friend of mine has made me aware that I often bump into you on the most random places… At first I thought nothing about it, but after giving it a good thought, I must say that I agree with her. I mean it is probably just a coincidence, but still. I don’t mean to offend you or anything, but it is kinda strange?”. You give him a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, but it is something that has been bugging me” After you had opened your mouth, you had instantly regretted it and you wanted to slam your head as hard as you could against the green stone of the counter.

Oliver’s expression darkened slightly before he smiled his usual warm smile. “I see…” he paused for a moment, clearly in deep thought. “Well, I do love quite close to you and my shop is even closer. Plus it’s not weird to see someone you know out in public” his smile softened. “You shouldn’t think to much about. But I promise you that it’s all coincidences. I hope I haven’t frightened you. Because that’s not my intention at all” he stepped away from the counter and rounded it. Oliver’s large hands gently clasped on your shoulders. He strokes his thumbs up and down in a calming motion. His sweet beautiful brown eyes look at you with utmost adoration. “Would you like some tea, my flower?”

You nodded. “Yes please. I’m so sorry for accusing you of such. That was uncalled for” you rub your finger down your nose bridge in embarrassment and frustration.

“Don’t worry. It’s alright. I am just happy I haven’t accidentally made you uncomfortable”.

As the botanist prepared you some floral tea, your thoughts drift. How could you be so rude to your beloved friend? He was pure hearted and would never hurt a fly.

Oliver hummed as he poured you both some tea. As he hummed on Here Comes The Sun by his favourite band The Beatles, he couldn’t help the anger that flowed through his veins like ice. Your so called friend had tried to tear you apart from him. That was not something he could allow. His nails dug into the wooden table and he could feel splinters stabbing the skin underneath his short nails. Your friend would come to regret her words and that soon. But first, he would lighten your mood with your favourite tea, for such was his duty.

[manmes214]

Kagamine Sandwich🫶 https://x.com/Manmes214

[chetang]

Oh, I remember those units in school. But I liked poetry, obviously, much more than most of my peers did. I read it for fun even, if you'll believe it. The tasties things, yeah, and those jelly beans and the eggs with creme in the middle.

It is very tricky! It's hard to grasp the timing and all of that. But it's fun to admire the artistry of it. The younger kids like Shel Silverstein, for the older kids, we venture into Cummings and then Shakespeare. It's true, just have to figure out how to manipulate the words. Kind of like songwriting. That is true! Mostly marshmallows and caramel things, right?

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 87: Alexander's Reason

Previous > Masterlist tw: mind control, hypnotic induction

October 1925

"Excuse me, are you Oliver Pines?"

Oliver looked up at the nurse, a middle-aged woman with a kind smile. He knew that he must be puffy-eyed from crying. Hopefully she would assume it was due to the pain. "Yes, that's me."

"I wanted to speak with you. Quietly, if you don't mind." There was no real privacy in the ward, but she sat on the edge of the bed close to Oliver's face. Her fingers reached down to turn his head gently, and brushed against the scars on his neck.

She knew.

Terror and guilt flooded him. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize --"

"Shhh, keep your voice down. I'm not going to hurt you."

He thought he deserved it if she did, but did his best to quiet himself anyway, stifling his sobs like he was a boy again.

"You're one of theirs, aren't you? You belong to a vampire," she said in a hushed tone.

Oliver nodded.

"I thought so. I saw the puncture wounds noted in your file, and after what happened last night… did you hear?"

"I heard enough."

"Was that your master? The one who was in the hospital last night?"

"No, but… yes, in a way. He was here for me. It's my fault."

The nurse looked sympathetic. "I don't think anything those bastards did is your fault."

"How do you know about them? The vampires?"

"You're not the first patient we've seen with bite marks on the neck, and this isn't the first time those bastards have visited us, either. Not all the nurses believe, and the doctors won't listen to us, but I used to work the night shift. The night nurses know."

"Is there anything you can do?"

"I can call in the vampire hunters' guild. They'd probably be willing to station someone in the area tonight."

"No!" said Oliver, surprising the nurse. "The vampire hunters can't help."

"Sure they can. They're experts at --"

"No, they can't help me," Oliver insisted. "Not against this vampire. I was already with a hunter, and I think she might be -- gone. I don't think there's a hunter who can stand against him."

The nurse sucked in a breath. "You've gotten yourself in some real trouble, haven't you?"

"I'm sorry. If you gave me back to my master, I think --"

"We're not going to do that. You need care and rest. We're not just going to hand over one of our patients to a bloodsucker." She patted Oliver's shoulder. "I'll contact the guild and let them be the judge of whether or not they can handle it. With any luck, you'll be free, and there'll be one less monster in the world."

Oliver could tell he wasn't likely to dissuade her, but at the very least he could let the hunters know what they would be up against. "If you do talk to the guild, please tell them that it's the Maestro."

"The Maestro?"

"Yes, make sure you tell them that."

"All right. I will. You just focus on healing up, okay? Do you need any more medicine for the pain?"

"Yes, please," he said miserably. The medication would put him to sleep, and it would be better for him to sleep now than during the night, when he might need his wits about him. As the nurse left, he hoped that no hunter would be foolish enough to come, that they'd hear the Maestro's name and know to stay away. He didn't want another hunter dead or ensorcelled on his account.

He thought of Vivian. He wasn't sure if it was better if she were alive or dead. If the Maestro had found her, it might be more merciful if he decided a hunter was too much trouble to keep as a thrall.

Oliver, seemingly, would never be too much trouble.

---

Thanks mostly to some strong medication, Oliver spent the entire afternoon in and out of sleep that did not bring him rest, only truly waking to eat the bland meals he was given and answer a doctor's perfunctory questions. But as the sunlight through the windows turned golden and then red, his anxiety began to rise to a fever pitch.

He dearly hoped the Maestro would not visit him a second time. At some point, one of the nurses had picked up the rose from the floor and put it in a cup on his bedside table. Oliver didn't know how to explain how it was so hateful to him, so he was reminded of his terror every time he happened to glance to the right.

If any vampire were to come, he hoped it would be Alexander. He knew he should hate Alexander for putting him in this position, stalked by a sociopathic monster who thought nothing of casually killing an innocent woman. But another, treacherous part of him just wanted to go back. Back to a fogged and hazy mind, back to dulled pain and fear, back to a comfortable seat by the fire in the library where he could feel safe even though he wasn't. Despite having nothing to do for the past several days and nights but rest in bed, he was completely spent.

He thought of how gentle Alexander's voice and hands were as he lulled Oliver into a trance, how it felt for the vampire to wrap around him when it was time to sleep. If he were truly trapped, if he couldn't escape, at least he would have a warm and comfortable home to go back to. At least Alexander would treat him kindly. He was in need of a kind word and a gentle touch.

And then, there was the truth that ran just below the surface of his thoughts, the one that he'd been struggling with ever since Vivian had undone his enthrallment, the one that filled him with embarrassment.

Because the real truth, deep down in his heart, was that he had enjoyed being Alexander's thrall.

Of course he knew it was probably still the remnants of the spell at work. The effects of hypnosis that strong couldn't be easily undone. Knowing that his feelings may be artificial didn't stop them from consuming him, though.

Even back in the bookshop, one of his greatest joys was to help patrons with their requests, to feel useful. He had always loved being helpful. Alexander had made him feel like that all of the time, looking at Oliver as though he were something precious. He may have been treated like a plaything, but at least he'd been a wanted, cherished plaything. And most humiliating of all was how he'd been so quietly pleased when he was praised for being a good thrall, as if it were his life's calling, just like Lily had told him.

Oliver burned with shame to think of it. He'd insisted to Vivian that he wouldn't be one of those rescued thralls who went running back to the arms of a vampire, and even then he suspected he was lying to himself. Honestly, he'd looked forward to helping out Alexander a bit too much even when he was merely one of the bookshop's patrons, eager to assist a fellow book-lover. And now that he knew how lonely Alexander was, and how much he appreciated Oliver's company…

But no, he still couldn't trust Alexander, no matter how much he secretly wished he could. Alexander may not glory in torments the way his sire did, but he was still keeping Oliver a captive. And even though Alexander seemed to be a captive and victim of his sire, he had still enlisted his sire's help in finding Oliver. Otherwise, how else would the Maestro know to infect his mind with those specific nightmares at that specific time?

It seemed unlike him to willingly involve his sire in a situation that might see them both harshly punished. Perhaps there was an explanation, although Oliver doubted he'd get to hear it before he was ensnared once more. He hoped, at least, that Alexander wouldn't harm any hunters that might be near the library, and that he hadn't killed Vivian.

If only things could be different between them. If only he would listen to reason, and let Oliver keep his wits, and somehow free them both of the scourge of his sire. If only Oliver could simply enjoy the fond closeness and the vast library in peace, and perhaps see his bookshop again one day. If he could have those assurances, then he could be content to return to Alexander, regardless of how shameful a hunter like Vivian might find his condition.

The pain was beginning to return to his leg, the strong medication wearing off, when he first heard the strains of song. The sun had been fully down for half an hour, and Oliver's mounting dread gave way to a surprising relief as he heard the voice.

It was Alexander's song, of course, rich and enticing. He was being ensnared once more, but at least there might not be any more pain that night.

The melody grew in strength, and drowsiness stole over Oliver, his eyelids beginning to grow heavy and droop. He heard a symphony of yawns from around the ward as the other patients began to fall to the spell. Alexander was putting them all to sleep so that he could enter freely, no doubt, which would be a mercy to them -- a deep sleep free of pain. Oliver had no real desire to fight it, allowing his eyes to shut and his mind to drift off peacefully.

"You may slowly come awake, Oliver, but continue to feel no pain."

Oliver's eyes fluttered open. He was sitting partially upright, and Alexander was clutching him tightly, holding him as though he were a precious treasure to protect. The familiar scent of his soap surrounded Oliver as the vampire buried his face into Oliver's shoulder, which was growing damp with tears. And his injured leg felt as though it were far away, only connected to Oliver by the thinnest of strings, his focus sliding over it.

"I'm sorry," said Alexander, who sounded as though he were choking back a sob. "I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you and keep you safe. I was terribly worried about you."

He sounded so genuinely upset. Despite Emily's insistence that Alexander couldn't possibly care for him as more than a meal, Oliver couldn't bring himself to believe that. He sank fully into the comforting embrace, allowing himself to be absorbed into Alexander's arms.

Alexander pulled back slightly, and Oliver found himself looking into those deep eyes, like diving into an ocean. He was unable to look away, his memories of the mesmerism stirring in his heart, whispering to his mind that it would be so easy to lose himself in those eyes. It was only with herculean willpower that Oliver managed to blink and tear himself away.

"How is your injury?" Alexander asked.

"It's a severe knee fracture, the doctor said. They performed surgery on me when I first arrived." Oliver looked forlornly at his plaster-encrusted leg. "He said that I'll be in a wheelchair for a while, and might not ever walk without assistance again."

The fierce look in Alexander's eyes caught him off guard. "Then I'll have to take care of you in any way I can," he said. "I know that my manor isn't well equipped for it, but we'll make do. We can move your bedroom and bathroom to the first floor, rearrange the library so that you can navigate it more easily… I suppose I'll have to carry you up the stairs to my room when needed… and of course I'll have to arrange for a fine cane for you, for when you're well enough to stand. I'll get in touch with Edith, she'll know where to purchase wheelchairs and canes."

Oliver couldn't help but be relieved that the vampire was willing to try and care for him in this situation. Even though it wouldn't make sense for Alexander to abandon him, not after how much he'd paid and risked and how much he seemed to value his thrall, a small but significant part of Oliver had been quietly insisting that he was a burden now, not worth the trouble.

Alexander's gaze strayed toward the rose in the cup, and from the look on his face Oliver could tell that he instantly grasped the meeting. "My sire was here."

"He was," said Oliver tersely, suddenly reminded of the main reason he couldn't put his trust in Alexander. Somehow, Alexander's sire had learned where Oliver was.

"What did he do? Did he harm you?"

"He didn't harm me any worse than I had already been harmed," said Oliver. "Did you tell him where I was?"

Alexander groaned, and if the forlorn look on his face was an act, it was a very good one. "I wouldn't have told him anything if I had been given a choice. Surely you know that. He thinks that your capture makes me even more of an abject disappointment, and I'm sure he intends to punish me at his leisure. On top of that, I certainly didn't wish for him to torment you. Please believe that."

"Then how did he know?"

"The worst possible timing," said Alexander. "The night after you were captured, just as I had woken from the sleeping potion and was preparing to go out and find you, I had an unexpected and unwelcome visitor."

"Your sire."

"At the stroke of midnight, as always. He came to deliver an invitation, and he noticed right away that you weren't present."

"Couldn't you have told him I was asleep in my bedroom, or sick, or…"

"He can always tell when I'm lying," said Alexander miserably. "On top of that, he could tell you were missing by your smell, or lack thereof. He was furious, of course -- but for once, I feel like I deserve it, considering I failed to protect you. I know my words might not mean much, but I truly am sorry, and not just about that." Alexander gripped both of Oliver's hands earnestly. "I've failed in my duties towards you as your master, and I do intend to rectify that. I don't want us both to be trapped under my sire's thumb forever. I managed to apprehend the hunter --"

"Vivian!" said Oliver. "What have you done with her?"

"We haven't harmed her at all. She's with Lily now."

His heart sank, thinking of the strong, determined hunter, now helplessly under Lily's spell, perhaps even memory-wiped like Miriam. His mind traveled back to the time when Alexander had brought him to Lily's home, of the terrified man that Oliver had falsely reassured, how Lily thought nothing of dragging a man on a leash to be hypnotized. "I think she would consider becoming a thrall a fate worse than death. Isn't there any way you could let her go?"

"Lily will be very gentle with her. She seems quite well suited to being a thrall, despite how she might feel about it now," said Alexander easily, as though he weren't discussing condemning a woman to servitude. "And then, there's you." He touched Oliver's cheek, gazing into his eyes. "She lifted much of my spell on you, didn't she?"

There was no real point in denying it. "She did. She made me very keenly aware of my… situation. How I've effectively been captured and enslaved."

Alexander recoiled slightly at this, as though the thought had never occurred to him, and the look on his face almost made Oliver want to take back his words. "…Were you really so unhappy with me?" he said quietly.

Oliver looked away. "No. I wasn't unhappy."

He gripped Oliver's chin, drawing him in. "Then just let me --"

"Wait!" Oliver knew that any protest would be futile if Alexander desired to put him under again. As soon as he began to sing of obedience and loyalty, as soon as Oliver looked a little too long into those eyes, the struggle would be lost. But still, he had believed that Alexander could be reasoned with. He had to try. "Can't we talk about this first?"

"Oliver…" he said with a truly pathetic expression. "I know that this life isn't what you would have chosen, but…"

"You never gave me the chance to choose," he said. "You told me before, when you put me under your spell for the first time, that you wanted loyalty, and not obedience. But you never actually let me give you loyalty that wasn't coerced." Oliver wrung his hands in his blanket. "I know the position I'm in. I know that you have all the power over me, and that you could take my mind at any moment. I know that I have every reason to be angry with you… but I have nowhere to go, and no one to return to but you. And despite everything, the truth is that a part of me did miss you."

"You did?" said Alexander, latching onto that one statement as though it was the only part he cared about.

"What I'm trying to say is, I would go with you willingly. You don't need to ensorcel my mind. I won't try to escape -- as though I even could. You have my word." Olive was all too aware that he had no actual leverage, and that this was the only card he could play.

"You…" Alexander was clearly having trouble processing this. "You wish to stay and serve me without being enthralled?"

"I do," he said firmly. "I'm offering you my service of my own free will, or what remains of it."

"But why would you want that? You won't be happy," said Alexander.

"I think I could be happy in your manor, even without being ensorcelled into false bliss," said Oliver. "But I also think, perhaps, that keeping my mind at least somewhat intact is more important to me than being made happy. I suppose my mind is really all I have, now more than ever. I want to feel things. I want to have choices, even if I still choose to serve you. I want to think."

Alexander took a long time before responding. "I was much younger than you, when I was taken," he said finally. "I was still in my schooling, throwing all of my time and energy into music, which I loved more than anything. I had a family and friends. I had a future."

Oliver's breath stilled. He'd never considered that the vampire must have once been human. He was surprised that Alexander even remembered what it was like, so long ago.

"I hated my master -- who became my sire -- more than words can say. He stole me away from everything and everyone I loved. But unlike me, he rarely touched his thrall's minds."

"He didn't hypnotize you?"

"No. He conditioned me to obedience in much harsher ways. He did nothing to dull my mind of the pain and the grief. I spent years in misery, losing all hope, and then he killed me and made me into his kind, so that I could inflict the same suffering on others." Alexander's eyes were rimmed with tears when he looked back up at Oliver. "My master never showed me mercy. I want to give you mercy."

"Mercy?"

"I know it's selfish. I know I tore you out of the life you had. I know I'm keeping you a captive. But even still… even with everything I've done… I can't bear for you to hate me," he said. "That's one reason why I can't free your mind, Oliver. Because I don't want you to despise me the way I despise my sire, and the only way to do that is to bend your thoughts towards contentment. It's the best I can do for you."

Oliver leaned back in his hospital bed. "I don't hate you, Alexander."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I thought that I should, given what you've done to me, how you've put me in terrible danger. But I still don't." Oliver sighed. "At the end of the day, perhaps it's because I've been dreadfully lonely, too, with only books as my freedom. Maybe Lily was right all along, and I really am just well suited for serving a vampire. Maybe I just enjoyed having someone care for me, even if it was an illusion."

"It's not an illusion," said Alexander firmly. "I do care for you. You're the only thing that's brought me any real joy since Fitz left."

"I want to believe that, but it hurt me, when your sire was tormenting me and you did nothing in my defense. Even if there's nothing you could have done, I --"

Alexander was looking truly miserable now. "No, you're right. I know full well that I need to find a way to keep you out of his clutches, and not fail you the way I failed my dear Fitz." He sighed. "Because he is my sire, he can compel me to his wishes as easily as he can compel you. So any resistance I offer must be carefully considered, lest it bear no fruit but punishment."

"I understand," he said reluctantly.

"The last time I truly stood up to him -- he took Fitz, and he tortured us both. I don't want that to happen to you. That's why I must obey him until I have a solid plan. Rushing and failing would be a surefire way to expose you to immense harm." He stroked Oliver's cheek fondly. "And if I do fail, I want you to have the chance to escape."

Oliver nodded. As terrified as he was of the Maestro, Alexander was right that confronting him must be done carefully.

"You're an ideal thrall, Oliver," said Alexander, gently stroking the side of his face, and Oliver couldn't help but lean into the touch. "I had gone so long without a good thrall that it was taking all of my restraint to not capture and ensorcel any decent smelling person on the street, much less a prize like you."

"But you don't have to do that. You don't have to ensorcel me."

"I could never be around you and restrain myself. It was difficult enough when I visited your shop. Now, that I know the sort of thrall you are, it would be unbearable torture."

"You could still have my blood, if you needed," said Oliver desperately, not wanting to think about how enjoyable the feedings had seemed before Vivian pulled him back to his senses.

"Your blood is only a fraction of what makes you desirable." A predatory look was in his eye, and Oliver was pinned by his gaze. "It's the way your eyes fog over when you're falling under my spell, the way you sway in a daze, the smile on your face when you're deep in entranced sleep, how you call me 'sir.' I've only seen one other human fall to me so beautifully. That sensation, the power I can hold over you, how effortlessly you drop into docile bliss… that's worth an ocean of blood."

Oliver's mouth went dry. He had been right that Alexander truly did care about him -- but when he suggested Alexander could be reasoned with, he'd been wrong, so wrong. He wasn't merely interested in Oliver's blood or his companionship. He wanted Oliver's mind and soul under his sway, and the hunger on his face made it clear that no compromise would be possible.

"I don't want to be enthralled to the point where I lose my memory and my wits become dull and sluggish," Oliver protested. He at least had to try.

"I won't do that to you. I enjoy your wits."

"I also don't want you to compel me into obedience if we disagree, or drag you to Lily if my thoughts become inconvenient."

"I'm not doing this to harm you," said Alexander with a kind tone that contrasted with his argument. "It's what's best for you as a thrall. You won't suffer. I can give you anything you need. I can make you happy."

Oliver swallowed. "You try to compel me to happiness, even when we're both being stalked by a monster who delights in torture. I don't want to be happy. I want to have my wits about me."

"And I owe it to you, and to myself, and especially to my dear Fitz, to be rid of him once and for all," said Alexander. "Until then, I will continue to relieve your pain, and ease a bit of my own in the bargain." He directed Oliver to look into his eyes, those sharp blue eyes as deep as the ocean and as treacherous.

"Please, Alexander," said Oliver, barely managing to look away.

"Shhh. It's all right, Oliver. It will be all right. I'll help you forget your pain and your fear." And he took Oliver's face into his hands and sang, his deep and melancholy voice echoing across the hospital ward. It was a deeply soothing sound, full of relaxation and peace and the quiet calm of servitude, and despite his feeble effort at resistance, Oliver's mind was being lulled away effortlessly.

"Please…"

"Quiet now, Oliver. You have nothing to fear, nothing to struggle against, only sleep. Deep, sweet sleep, where you can be so quiet and listen."

He wanted so badly to rest in those eyes, to forget why he was fighting. Oliver was leaning forward, eyelids fluttering, sleepwalking back to his doom. It was all too familiar.

"You're an excellent thrall, so quiet and docile and perfect for me, just for me."

"…Thank you, sir."

"You can sleep, now, a sleep free of pain, and know that I will return each night to sing your pain away. I promise you that. I won't leave you alone and in pain in this dreadful place. But for now, I want you to return to me. Remember your enthrallment, your deep and docile obedience, and return to me, your master."

Oliver nodded, drifting away, his mind falling back into the depths so easily, so naturally, right back where he belonged, a book slotted into his proper place on the shelf.

Previous > Masterlist

This chapter took me SO LONG to write, with three rewrites along the way! It's an extra long one, so I hope you enjoy! I'm going to get back to answering asks as well... Next week (hopefully): Fitz and the Maestro are getting along very well.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@vampiresprite @irregular-book @whumpsoda @und3ad-mutt

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump @tippytappytyping @natthebatt @fire-bugg14

[pubird]

[galaxydrawsblog]

Time to unmask myself! ^^

Hello!! @glasswoodonthebrain!! ^^

I am your Secret Valentine 💕💕

I decided to draw your top pairing Oliver Wood x Radiant Glasspetal ^^

As stated I was trying to experiment with my art, the way I shade and everything else 😅😅😅💕💕 So basically your gift was an experiment lol xD

If anyone wants to give me art tips, I would LOVE that! ^^ (I use Ibispaint x btw)

But I hope you like this! 💕💕💕

Dividers belong to @saradika-graphics ^^

[loverducky]

tryouts | oliver aiku x gn!reader | 1.5k

suggestive (kink discussion, bondage and petplay mentioned) with some grinding + praise at the end, i’m tagging dubcon because oliver just kinda jumps into it, reader’s a little insecure, a lot oblivious, and is implied to be more on the inexperienced side, oliver’s like. a soft tease in this ngl, this is Very selfship coded and based on this post, sorrgy not sorrgy :3

“so, whaddya think about being tied up?”

you and oliver are lounging about on the old couch you’ve got in your apartment. you lean forwards and grab your soda, half shrugging, “sounds fun to me! not a huge fan of those, like, metal handcuffs, they don’t look very comfortable, but rope and all that’s cool! shibari’s pretty too, although i don’t think i’d have the patience for it.”

you rest your face on your hand as you lean on the couch arm, cheek squishing a bit as you ask, “what about you? you got any fantasies about being tied up?”

he laughs, shaking his head, and you crack a smile when you notice how grown out the green is. “i’m more of the type to be doing the tying,” he says, shooting you a lopsided smirk, and you consider this with another sip, setting the can down on the table.

“huh. neat!” is your conclusion, and there’s a slight lull in the conversation as oliver stares at you. you tilt your head at him, curious, and he laughs again, quieter this time. weird.

“oh,” another thought occurs to you, “what‘s your opinion on petplay? ‘cause of the leash and all.” you gesture to your neck.

his smile turns cocky at that, and he leans in closer. “why, you trying to collar me?” he asks, voice low, and you turn to glare at him, fist raising in the air.

to his credit, he backs up in an instant, his hands held high like you’re holding him hostage. “woah, woah, woah, i’m kidding, i’m kidding,” he flashes a quick grin, “or am i?”

you roll your eyes and let your fist drop, going to grab your drink again, using it to gesture at oliver. “yeah, yeah. that’s not an answer, bitch.”

his arms drop to rest on the back of the couch, fingers tapping to an internal beat as he thinks. “sure, yeah, i think it’s pretty cute. sometimes they get all whiny, and that’s fun—”

you choke in the middle of chugging the rest of your soda, and you see his eyes flash towards you as you curl in on yourself. he scoots closer and pats you on the back while you hack away, his hand warm as he rubs circles into your shoulder blade. he grabs you some napkins from the table too, passing them over so you can wipe your mouth. when you finally straighten up, he leans back, smirking at you a little. you can only meet his gaze for a second before it drops to the floor, and suddenly sheepish, you mumble, “sorry bout that. wasn’t expecting you to bring up— well. you know.”

he nudges your thigh with his own, his voice teasing as he asks, “weren’t expecting me to bring up personal experience?”

“well, i mean,” you feel your body flush, and your shoulders hunch as you curse yourself internally. “i’ve told you this before, i know i have. haven’t i?”

your leg bounces in place as you continue to ramble. “it’s just that. well. i haven’t… god. okay.” you take a deep breath. inhale, exhale. “so, full disclosure. i haven’t really tried a lot of the things that i say i’m into? i guess it’s more like… i like the idea of that stuff?” your voice gets even quieter than before, “like, i, um. get off? to it?”

you’re not even sure if oliver hears those last bits. when you get the courage to look back up at him, though, he’s staring at you with a quiet intensity, a small smile playing at his lips that makes your gut twist in knots.

“something funny about that, asshole?” you clear your throat, trying to ease some of the tension that’s built up all of a sudden. “because i swear—”

“you interested in trying it?” oliver interrupts, and your mind blanks, your brow furrowing.

“trying… what?”

“petplay. or bondage.” your jaw drops a little and he laughs, not unkindly. “or anything else you think you might be into.”

you shut your mouth in a frown, kicking him lightly in the ankle. “very funny, you dick. there’s a reason i haven’t, you know.” you sigh dramatically, slumping over his lap with your full weight. you close your eyes, placing the back of your hand against your forehead as if you’ve fainted, and say, “not all of us are six foot tall football players with beautiful thighs.” your free hand pats them for emphasis, but with your eyes closed, you miss the flush of color that rises to his ears.

after a few long moments of silence, you peer through splayed fingers to see oliver looking down at you, that same soft smile on his face. he’s handsome, you think, reaching up to caress him, feeling the stubble scattered across his jawline. he lets you for a bit, before his hand grabs yours and guides it close, and you blink up at him in confusion as a gentle kiss is pressed to your wrist. you feel a wicked edge to his smile curl against your skin, then, and before you can tug it back into yourself, your arm is pinned high above your head.

oliver pulls his legs out from under you, and your second arm quickly joins the first, his body settling above your own with a practiced ease. you squirm in his grip, but he’s got you pinned against the couch, a knee between your legs and a smug look in his eyes. he leans down and you let out a little whine as he grinds his knee right where you want it, lust pooling between your thighs as your whole body shakes underneath him.

“well, would you look at that.” his voice drips with satisfaction, his eyes roving up and down your body appreciatively, and you bite back another embarrassing noise. “seems you do like being restrained, hm?”

you open your mouth to answer, only for your words to die with another half choked gasp as he grinds his knee into you again. his breath fans against your neck as he settles into the crook of it, alternating between soft kisses and tiny, nipping bites, and you feel like you’re losing your mind from how good everything feels. he’s got you by the wrists, his hold steady and warm and immovable, and at this point your hips are practically moving on their own, desperate for relief.

it doesn’t help that oliver won’t shut the fuck up. “-so cute like this, you know? always so loud, so brash, but all you wanted was a little attention, hm?” you feel the rumble of his laughter more than you hear it, feel it alongside the gentle scratching of his stubble, and you want to sob — from pleasure or relief, you’re not sure. “it’s alright, baby, you’ve got it, now. whatever you want, whatever you want to try, i’m right here, promise.”

your hands flex under oliver’s grip, and you whine again, trying to collect your scattered thoughts. your hips continue to buck against the sturdiness of his thigh, and you can pull yourself together just enough to whimper out a little “please.”

even you aren’t sure what you’re begging for, but when he lifts his head from where’s he’s been terrorizing your neck, the sheer lust in his eyes makes you shrink away from his attention. it’s too late, though. he rubs a little circle on your wrist with his thumb, before he switches his grip, holding both your wrists with one hand, the other guiding you by the chin to tilt your head into his. when he leans in and presses his lips to yours, it’s chaste at first, to your surprise, although your eyes still flutter closed at the feeling of his lips on yours.

his free hand wanders down, down from your chin, down your chest and below your waistline, and oliver’s kiss gets greedier as it travels closer to where you need it, eventually swallowing your cries whole when finally, finally, he’s reached between your thighs.

the direct stimulation is too much, too fast, too quickly. oliver’s good, even when working with just one hand, and within the next minute the coil within you snaps. you stay there shuddering beneath oliver’s body for a while, him releasing his grip on your wrists and you clinging to him in turn. when you think you’ve settled enough, oliver sits up, grinning at you like a madman.

you, on the other hand, scowl at him and punch him in the arm on your way up, crossing your arms and huffing. “you dick! have you just been trying to get in my pants this whole time?”

he shrugs at you, cocky half grin still clear as day.

“unbelievable. this isn’t happening again,” you poke him hard in the chest, “you hear me?”

“sure, baby,” he says, easy as anything, and you already feel your heart start to race again. fuck. “wasn’t lying when i told you i’d be your partner if you wanted to try some of those other kinks out, though. what was it you said again? petplay?” he leans down, drops his voice, and grins, “you’d look cute in a collar.”

you shiver, glare up at him, and point at the door. “out!”

[boag]

[shithowdy]

rotating my blorbos in my head isn't good enough i need to manifest them physically !!!

i spent upwards of two weeks working on these, and i'm really happy with them! it was a bit like putting myself in character design boot camp because it forced me to rethink how i do everything from a more "intentional" angle rather than just arbitrary choices.

i may do some future single-layer ones of other characters, but... i need a break.

emil's ass better watch out because it's only a matter of time before he gets some horrible left side disfigurement, apparently

linking an imgur folder with the static jpegs in the comments vvv

[fatherofpuppets]

So, I read THIS, and my life will never be the same

Go and read it

Right now.

[lavandulawrites]

Yandere Botanist/ Flower Shop Owner aka Oliver’s Character Profile

Name: Oliver Webely

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Height: 180 cm

Weight: 82 kg

Hair colour: Dark blonde with light brown streaks, wavy that reaches 1/3 of his neck

Eye colour: Brown with golden speckles

Appearance: Light skin, but not sickly, freckles, big hands, has a stocky/ sturdy frame, but is not overweight, has big arms that are shockingly strong

Personality: Kind, a gentle giant, caring, overprotective, sweet, loves hugs, introverted, not shy, but not super outgoing either, socially awkward, something about him doesn’t feel right, but you can’t seem to figure out what…

Skills/ talents: Is very skilled with taking care of planted, loves to bake, is an extraordinary chef, all cats adore him, makes the best tea

Hobbies: Baking, cooking, knitting, collecting vintage furniture, reading (preferably fantasy books)

How he is as a yandere: He seems like the sweetest guy ever (but looks can be deceiving, can they not?), overprotective, stalks his darling, may drug darling, but only if he has to, manipulative

Yandere danger level: To strangers either 4/10 or 8/10. It all depends. For family or friends of darling 6/10. For darling 4/10

Oliver’s Aesthetic

[orphic-exe-archived]

if this post reaches 1k notes before the end of my school year i’ll pick my old novella up again

if this post reaches 5k notes before the end of my school year i’ll convince my mother to get me tested for exercise-induced asthma

if this post reaches 10k notes ever i’ll deep clean my room

[blackberry-s0da]

a handful of Olivers

[drama-glob]

Yeah, some do, but Fizz didn't. <3<3<3

[911onabcbts]

🎥: kenny posted a new reel but with old bts, captioned with:

@ryanaguzman attempts the longest hedge-jump ever...

Don't try this at home.